Chén Zhāoyáng and Lín Xiǎotáng entered the university gates filled with bright anticipation for college life. They had assumed they could finally leave behind the intense studying of high school and welcome a relaxed, enjoyable period. Yet, reality dealt them a heavy blow—the difficulty of their specialized courses far exceeded their imagination.
These subjects stood before them like towering mountains reaching into the clouds, intimidating and daunting. Higher mathematics and microeconomics, in particular, were like absolute nightmares. Complex formulas and abstract theories caused many students to groan in despair, and Chén Zhāoyáng and Lín Xiǎotáng were naturally no exception.
On this day, during the higher mathematics lecture, the professor stood at the podium, chalk flying across the blackboard as he wrote down one complex formula after another. The students' gazes closely followed the professor's movements; however, as the formulas multiplied and grew increasingly intricate, their expressions gradually grew confused, as if they were lost in a mathematical labyrinth.
Chapter 112