Chapter Sixty-Two: The High School Entrance Exam Has Arrived

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It was the day of the high school entrance exams. Early in the morning, Zhuo Wengang and Wang Liru insisted on accompanying Zhuo Nan to the exam. Zhuo Nan was exasperated—was it really necessary? Standing outside under the blazing sun was simply too much.

“Dad, Mom, you two really don’t have to come. It’s just an exam, after all. Besides, the factory’s already arranged a bus to take us. There’s no need for you to go out of your way,” Zhuo Nan said, backpack slung over his shoulder, shoes laced up, addressing his parents as they busied themselves with preparations.

Wang Liru was clearly unhappy with this. “What do you know? This exam is a big deal. How could we not see you off? Look at all the other kids from the factory—whose parents aren’t there sending them off?”

Zhuo Nan rolled his eyes. Competing over what you eat, what you wear, how much you make—and now, who gets escorted to their exam? “Mom, it’s really fine. If you two come, I’ll get nervous and forget everything I studied. What then?”

Wang Liru recognized the excuse and grumbled, “Don’t try to trick me. Even your teachers say you’re in the top three. If you perform as usual, you’ll make it into the top high school for sure.”

“See, Mom? Even the teachers think I’ll be fine. Why not just stay home and cook a couple of nice dishes? I’ll come back at noon and treat myself,” Zhuo Nan replied, affecting the airs of a little adult.

“All you think about is eating…” Wang Liru, amused by his act, tapped him on the forehead with a smile.

Zhuo Wengang was indifferent about going or not, not out of lack of care for his son, but because he trusted Zhuo Nan would do well regardless. He finally spoke up, “Liru, let’s not go. We might actually make him more anxious if we do. If he gets too nervous and doesn’t perform well, that would be a shame.”

With both father and son in agreement, Wang Liru sighed. “You two are really on the same page today. Fine, I won’t go. I’ll buy some groceries and make a few special dishes, waiting for our scholar to return victorious…”

Zhuo Nan shuddered inwardly. “Mom’s really overestimating me—calling me a scholar! I’d be lucky just to pass for a county-level talent…”

Having dealt with his parents, Zhuo Nan headed off to school. The factory had arranged a large bus for the students. By the time he arrived, most of his classmates were already there and the seats were nearly all taken. Since the first exam was Chinese, almost everyone was clutching a Chinese textbook—even Shi Yang was holding one, though who knew what was actually hidden inside.

“Nan, I saved you a seat over here!” Shi Yang shouted as soon as he saw Zhuo Nan board.

The other students were all cramming in last-minute review. Shi Yang’s loudness annoyed everyone, but no one dared complain—except for the homeroom teacher, Mr. Zhou, of course. “Shi Yang, keep it down…” he scolded.

After these exams, no one would need to care about this old man anymore, but for now, Shi Yang could only sit quietly.

“Nan, why are you only just getting here?” Shi Yang asked as Zhuo Nan sat down.

“Geez, breakfast takes time, doesn’t it?” Zhuo Nan shot him a look.

Shi Yang realized his question was silly and quickly changed the subject. “Nan, I think Fu Xinxin looks really anxious. Shouldn’t you go comfort her?”

At this, Zhuo Nan looked back at Fu Xinxin, seated behind him. Sure enough, she was frowning into her book, clearly under a lot of pressure.

“I’ll go check on her,” he said, making his way to her seat. Addressing the big, chubby classmate next to her, he asked, “Mind switching seats with me for a bit? I’d like to talk to Fu Xinxin.”

The class “big guy” was more than happy to oblige when the ever-polite Zhuo Nan asked. “Of course, of course,” he said, moving over to sit by Shi Yang, who rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Xinxin, what’s wrong?” Zhuo Nan asked gently once he sat down.

“Zhuo Nan, I’m so nervous—I barely slept last night. What if I don’t do well?” Fu Xinxin’s voice trembled; she looked on the verge of tears.

Zhuo Nan spoke softly, “Silly girl, don’t worry so much. Why are you still reading? Try to get a bit of sleep.” He closed her book for her.

“I can’t sleep. Chinese isn’t my strong suit, and there’s not much time left—I have to go over it again,” she protested, stubbornly reopening her book.

Zhuo Nan was helpless. She seemed so gentle, but deep down, she was fiercely determined. He asked his “brain” silently, Can you make her sleep for a bit? This isn’t helping.

The brain replied, She could sleep, but I can’t help with her grades. She’s seriously lacking confidence in Chinese…

Zhuo Nan insisted, Just make her rest. Forcing herself now won’t help.

All right, I’ll handle it, the brain said. As soon as the voice faded, Fu Xinxin’s eyelids began to droop.

“I’m so tired, Zhuo Nan…” she mumbled faintly.

“Then sleep,” Zhuo Nan smiled. No sooner had he spoken than Fu Xinxin’s head slumped onto his shoulder. He wished she could sleep until the exam began, but with so many students and teachers around, he had to gently straighten her up and return to his seat. He told the big guy, “Fu Xinxin’s asleep. Go back to your seat, but don’t wake her.”

The big guy nodded and returned to his place. Zhuo Nan, seeing Shi Yang reading intently, asked, “What book are you reading?”

Shi Yang shrugged. “Last night, I went to collect protection money with a buddy. The boss gave us each a book. This one.” He handed it over.

Zhuo Nan glanced at the cover and broke into a cold sweat. “Damn, ‘Lustful Aunt’…”

Well, it was a decent way to relax the nerves. “Shi Yang, I’m confiscating this.”

Shi Yang wasn’t surprised. “You can have it.” He promptly pulled out another book from his bag, “The Flirtatious Young Master and the Pretty Maid,” and settled in with relish.

Fitting, Zhuo Nan thought. The morning’s exam was Chinese, after all. Maybe they’d pick up some writing inspiration for the essay.

When they arrived at the exam site, Fu Xinxin was woken by the big guy. “Oh no, how did I fall asleep?”

The big guy looked innocent. “I have no idea either…”

Whatever the cause, Fu Xinxin felt much more refreshed and smiled gratefully. “It’s all right, thank you for waking me.”

Zhuo Nan and Fu Xinxin were in different classrooms. At half past eight, the exam began. Parents waited anxiously outside, teachers patrolled the halls with stern faces, and the invigilators kept their sharp eyes roaming the room.

As soon as the papers were distributed, Zhuo Nan filled in his name and exam number. When the signal was given to start, he began writing furiously, barely looking up.

When he reached the essay section, he saw the topic: “The eyes are the windows to the soul.” The title was open, but the theme was prescribed—an 800-word essay, any genre. He cursed inwardly, Typical of this exam system—claiming to encourage creativity but still imposing guidelines. Why not just let us write whatever we want?

With that thought, he began: “Seeing this topic, I could almost cry…”

Zhuo Nan wasn’t particularly concerned about Chinese. Even if the essay was worth sixty points, he was confident that no matter how much the graders disliked his work, they’d have to give him at least thirty. With ninety points from the rest, he’d score 110, maybe even 120—not bad. So, he let himself write freely.

He finished the whole paper in an hour. The exam was scheduled for two, but with nothing else to do, he decided to turn it in and leave. Gathering his things, he handed his paper to the teacher under the watchful gaze of his peers.

The invigilators were from other schools and didn’t know any of the students. They were only too happy to let anyone hand in their paper early so they could finish sooner. “Thank you. Once you’ve turned in your paper, please leave the school grounds. The afternoon session will continue as scheduled.”

Zhuo Nan nodded and left. He wasn’t the earliest, though—Shi Yang was already out, sitting on the flowerbed at the school gate, deeply engrossed in his “classic.” Mr. Zhou, the homeroom teacher, sat nearby, face dark, since he wasn’t allowed inside the school. Shi Yang had been the first from his class to finish—just half an hour in. Mr. Zhou hadn’t expected much from him. But when Zhuo Nan appeared, Mr. Zhou immediately got up, concern evident.

“Zhuo Nan, how’d it go? Why are you out so soon?”

Zhuo Nan shrugged, “Finished everything. No point sitting around. Might as well get some fresh air.”

“How many points do you think you’ll get?” Mr. Zhou pressed.

Zhuo Nan considered. “Probably around a hundred. It all depends on the essay…”

Mr. Zhou, though a math teacher, knew enough about junior high Chinese to realize that a hundred points was just about passing. It would depend on the other subjects to make up the score. He sighed. “Zhuo Nan, be sure to do your best in math this afternoon.”

Zhuo Nan nodded. “Don’t worry, Mr. Zhou. I’ll get full marks in math.” This answer delighted the old man, who couldn’t stop smiling.

Shi Yang sidled up. “Nan, I’m heading off. I’ve been waiting for you forever. Got collections to make. See you this afternoon.” Mr. Zhou, overhearing, was so angry his eyebrows twitched. This Shi Yang kid, so young and already running with gangs—utter disgrace.

Zhuo Nan waved him off. “All right, all right, go on.”

With Zhuo Nan’s permission, Shi Yang turned to leave—only to spot a large group storming over.

“Nan, we’ve got trouble…” he warned.

Zhuo Nan followed his gaze and smiled. It wasn’t just anyone coming; it was that rascal Wang Yu himself…