Watching Wu Tian, the other examinees concluded he was just showing off and scribbling nonsense. Many of them secretly wished they could do the same. How exhilarating that would be! But they couldn't.
Take the old men here, for example. Some felt they were about to die of old age, while others felt they were succumbing to illness. They didn't want to die, but they had achieved nothing on the Martial Path. Their only hope was to become Blood Refiners, which offered them a sliver of a chance at survival. Perhaps by succeeding fully, or even just halfway, in Blood Refinement, they could prolong their lives. They had to answer the questions seriously. Even if they couldn't solve an entire question, each one was worth three points. If they got even a small part right, they might still earn one of those three points, and that was enough. So, they dared not write nonsense.
