Chapter 161: preliminary exam result II

Chapter 161: Chapter 161: preliminary exam result II

Reading & Composition

The transition between lectures was noticeably livelier than usual.

Economics results had become the only topic anyone seemed interested in discussing.

Some students compared answers.

Others quietly celebrated.

A handful looked determined to pretend the examination had never happened.

Vivienne and the others took their seats just as Professor Ashcombe entered the lecture hall.

Professor Ashcombe entered the lecture hall.

Unlike Professor Hawthorne that morning...

She didn’t immediately begin distributing the examination papers.

Instead, she placed the thick stack neatly upon the lectern before looking around the room.

"I see everyone is considerably more awake than they were last week."

Soft laughter answered her.

"I suspect that has less to do with today’s lesson..."

"...and considerably more to do with these."

She rested one hand lightly atop the examination papers.

Another ripple of laughter followed.

Professor Ashcombe smiled.

"I thought as much."

Before anyone could settle back into their seats, she continued.

"Before I return your papers..."

"There is something I’d like all of you to understand."

The lecture hall gradually quieted.

She folded her hands together.

"The way we assess Reading & Composition differs from the way Professor Hawthorne assesses Economics."

Several students looked up.

"In Economics..."

"There are many questions with objective answers."

"Correct calculations."

"Correct applications."

"Correct conclusions."

"If your reasoning is sound..."

"You generally receive the mark you have earned."

She paused.

"But essays..."

"Reading & Composition."

"Philosophy."

"Political Governance."

"These are different."

She picked up one of the examination papers.

"When there is no single correct answer..."

"We cannot simply count mistakes."

"We evaluate your reasoning."

"The clarity of your writing."

"The strength of your argument."

"The evidence you present."

"And..."

"The originality of your thought."

She smiled faintly.

"Unfortunately for all of you..."

"You’re writing at Saint Albion."

A few students chuckled nervously.

"Some of you graduated as valedictorians."

"Others were salutatorians."

"Many received the highest academic distinctions their schools could offer."

She slowly looked around the lecture hall.

"So did the person sitting beside you."

"And behind you."

"And in front of you."

A thoughtful silence settled over the room.

"You are no longer competing against the standards of your former schools."

"You are competing alongside the strongest first-year students admitted from across the country, or rather, the continent."

She let the words linger.

"So yes..."

"Your papers are evaluated within the context of this cohort."

"If every paper demonstrates exceptional reasoning..."

"Our expectations rise accordingly."

Another quiet murmur spread through the room.

"The strongest paper establishes the benchmark."

"The remaining papers are evaluated relative to that standard."

She looked toward the class.

"That means a paper which might have received ninety-five almost anywhere else..."

"May receive eighty here."

She paused.

"And if your paper happens to be the weakest among an exceptionally strong cohort..."

"You may find yourself below the University’s passing standard."

The lecture hall fell completely silent.

Professor Ashcombe nodded once.

"It is an unforgiving system."

"It has also been Saint Albion’s standard for generations."

Her expression softened ever so slightly.

"So my advice is simple."

"Never concern yourself with being better than the average student."

"There is no average student sitting in this room."

"Concern yourself with ensuring..."

"...that your paper is never the weakest among the strongest minds in the country."

No one laughed this time.

The weight of her words settled naturally over the classroom.

After a long moment, Professor Ashcombe picked up the first examination paper.

"Now..."

"Let’s see how you all performed."

She began calling names one by one.

Students quietly walked to the front before returning to their seats.

Unlike Economics...

Very few smiles appeared.

Most immediately began rereading the comments written in the margins.

Others compared the final page against memories of what they had submitted.

"...Miss Hartwell."

Amelia accepted her paper before returning to her seat.

She looked down.

94.

A tiny smile appeared.

Claire immediately leaned over.

"...Ninety-four?"

Amelia nodded.

"You?"

"...Miss Whitmore."

Claire stood, accepted her paper, and returned moments later.

She looked once.

Then smiled.

95.

Amelia clicked her tongue.

"...One point."

Claire’s smile widened.

"The natural order has indeed been restored."

"I’ll reclaim it in Philosophy."

"I’ll look forward to watching you try."

Vivienne looked between them.

"...Do the two of you ever stop competing?"

"No."

They answered together.

Eleanor quietly closed her eyes for a brief moment.

"I expected that."

A few more names were called.

Then—

"...Miss Hayes."

Eleanor accepted her paper.

She returned.

Looked once.

Then calmly slid it beneath her notebook.

Claire noticed immediately.

"...Again?"

Eleanor looked perfectly composed.

"...Perhaps."

Amelia folded her arms.

"Show us."

"...No."

Vivienne couldn’t help laughing.

"I thought we settled this in Economics."

"We didn’t."

Eleanor replied.

"You ignored my wishes."

"Correct."

Claire said pleasantly.

"And we’ll be doing so again."

After a moment of entirely symbolic resistance...

Eleanor sighed and surrendered the paper.

89.

Vivienne blinked.

"...You hid an eighty-nine?"

Eleanor nodded.

"I misplaced one citation."

Claire looked genuinely sympathetic.

"...That hurts."

"It did."

Amelia nodded solemnly.

"A tragic loss."

Vivienne looked from one friend to another.

...

These people needed help.

Professor Ashcombe continued through the remaining stack.

Eventually—

"...Miss Beaumont."

Vivienne rose.

She accepted the paper.

"Thank you, Professor."

Returning to her seat, she glanced at the score.

79.

...

Fair.

Academic writing had never been her greatest strength.

Especially not after seven years away from university.

She opened the paper.

Red ink filled the margins.

"Good observations."

"Expand this point."

"Support your conclusion more thoroughly."

"Excellent insight, but insufficient evidence."

Vivienne smiled faintly.

That...

Actually seemed fair.

Professor Ashcombe hadn’t criticized her ideas.

She’d criticized how she’d defended them.

There was a difference.

She could improve that.

She sat back down.

Claire glanced sideways.

"...Seventy-nine?"

Vivienne nodded.

"I’ll survive."

Amelia smiled.

"For your first university essay..."

"At Saint Albion..."

"That’s perfectly respectable."

Claire nodded.

"And now you know exactly what she wants."

Vivienne laughed.

"So..."

"More evidence."

"More structure."

"And fewer moments where I assume the professor can read my mind."

Eleanor nodded approvingly.

"Precisely."

Professor Ashcombe set down the final paper.

"Whether you received a score that pleased you..."

"Or one that disappointed you..."

"Remember this."

She looked slowly around the lecture hall.

"Writing is a skill."

"Skills improve."

"So does reasoning."

"My expectation is not that you remain the same writer who entered this room six weeks ago."

"My expectation..."

"...is that the person who sits here at the end of the semester..."

"Will no longer recognize the paper you wrote today."

A quiet silence followed.

Then she smiled.

"Now..."

"Open your textbooks to Chapter Five."

"The author makes an argument I expect every one of you to disagree with."

Almost immediately, notebooks opened throughout the lecture hall.

Pens were uncapped.

The lesson began.

--

Tbc