The already thick workbook was now filled with many sheets of paper with answers, making it a thick stack. Shen Qinghe casually flipped to a page, and the paper was filled with neat handwriting. The solutions to each question were well-organized and detailed, and the ingenuity of some of the solutions made his gaze linger for a moment longer.
"This problem was debated by several mathematics PhDs at the Imperial College last year, and they couldn't reach a conclusion even after a full day of discussion. Not only did my sister solve it, but she also provided such an ingenious solution. If Dean Gu saw it, he would probably be speechless with amazement," Shen Qinghe exclaimed sincerely.
Meng Zhao's heart skipped a beat. She could barely manage to get by with other things, but arithmetic was something that an ordinary woman should not know. She subconsciously reached out and covered the page that Shen Qinghe was flipping through, her fingertips tightening slightly.
Shen Qinghe raised her eyes and met Meng Zhao's slightly uneasy gaze: "Sister, what's wrong?"
Just as she was hesitating whether to take the things back, Shen Qinghe suddenly smiled knowingly: "Sister, let me tell you an interesting story. Dean Gu has been a child prodigy since he was a child. People have always said that he is the reincarnation of the God of Literature, or that he drank one less bowl of Meng Po soup than others and did not forget everything."
Meng Zhao gave an awkward laugh. "Hehe, is that so?"
At this moment, Shen Qinghe suddenly took out some broken wooden boards from the side and handed them to Meng Zhao. The boards were engraved with some strange symbols that did not look like Chinese characters. Meng Zhao looked closely and found that they seemed to resemble modern Arabic numerals.
Meng Zhao's heart pounded wildly, "What is this?"
“I saw these in the shop of a traveling merchant. He said he brought them from the Western Regions by chance. I heard that people in the Western Regions use such symbols to calculate astronomical calendars. The numbers on them looked somewhat familiar to me, so I bought them from him.”
"Why... are you showing me this?"
Shen Qinghe looked up at her, the candlelight flickering in his eyes, reflecting a gentle smile: "Didn't my sister say before that she learned these numbers from books? Perhaps some of the books she read before came from the Western Regions. I told Dean Gu that my sister is good at business, so she is extremely sensitive to numbers. That's why she was able to summarize so many arithmetic secrets after only reading a few books."
Suddenly, the candlelight flickered, casting a dim light on Shen Qinghe's face. Meng Zhao broke out in a cold sweat. He had not only found a reason for himself, but he had also prepared evidence. Had he... guessed something?
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