In the mainland Chinese series (1977–92) I've been watching, a neighbour's son told the teacher's son that his father (the teacher) had helped him pass his exams for getting into secondary school by having spotted a major question. The phrase he used was:
押中一道大題 / 押中一道大题
yā-zhòng yī dào dà tí
to correctly predict a major question
To spot an exam question means to predict an exam question, therefore the use of 押 yā for placing a bet. It's a strategy often employed when there're too many revision topics and the student is not capable of cramming the whole lot (e.g., no time, brain capacity not up to it). The Chinese language expression for it (押題 / 押题 / yā tí / "pledge topic") aptly reflects the element of taking a gamble.
(from googling)
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指考试前猜测可能出现的试题并进行重点准备。 ……常见于备考情境中。 有观点认为，过度依赖押题可能导致学生机械背诵范文而非真正掌握知识。
Unquote
(google translate)
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This refers to predicting possible exam questions and preparing accordingly beforehand. The term is ... commonly used in exam preparation contexts. Some argue that over-reliance on predicting questions may lead students to mechanically memorize model essays rather than truly master the knowledge.
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This reminds me of my third year teaching on the evening programme (adult education).
Most of the 'A' level class were OAPs (old aged pensioners) who were there because they were interested in the Chinese culture, history and literature, but couldn't read the Chinese script, yet they decided to sign up for the exam.
The syllabus was a fairly demanding one, comprising different tasks: essay in Chinese, translation from Chinese into English and vice versa, plus a background-knowledge essay (to be written in English) covering major Chinese historical events and personalities .
The Chinese into English translation question in itself was based on a compilation of writings by a dozen or so Chinese writers, mostly excerpts as there was no way they could be covered in entirety.
With the students being unable to read the characters, we were going through the writings at the rate of something like a paragraph or two in each weekly two-hourly sessions. It wasn't possible for us to get through even a small handful of the excerpts, never mind the whole compilation.
I decided to take a gamble and do some spotting (押題 / 押题 / yā tí / "pledge topic").
I picked a piece by a writer of the 1980s about a train reaching its destination, mainly because the language was simpler than the other renowned tomes. What else could I do? I couldn't let the students struggle through a melange of writers' pieces from different periods (and different in writing styles), which would be disorientating as we'd only be able to do a paragraph from a writer here and there -- if that / if we were lucky. Better to plunge into one single piece for the continuity at least, which would give them a sense of achievement. The exams can take a back seat, as they were OAPs there for their love of Chinese literature, not for passing an exam.
The polytechnic happened to have been chosen to be a testing centre, and I also happened to have been asked to invigilate that exam.
We sat down, the students opened their exam scripts, and I my letter-writing pad to pen something to my then boyfriend (who was in Sinology as well).
I nearly cried out loud when I saw the piece for translating into English: Of all the pieces, out of the whole lot of at least a dozen excerpts, it was that very piece about the train journey coming to an end that I'd decided to do in class!
I had indeed 押中了一道大題 / 押中了一道大题 / yā-zhòng le yī dào dà tí / to have correctly predicted a major question!! What are the odds of that, I ask you.
(London, 1988)
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