After April began, the grade-level office adopted a new format for the exam score sheets: students were no longer ranked by score but listed alphabetically by the initials of their names. Presumably this was meant to protect the self-esteem of students with poorer grades. After all, the gaokao was imminent and everyone’s nerves were stretched tight; no one could afford another blow. Rumor had it that at the end of May, a girl at a private high school in Yongchuan swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills. Fortunately, she was taken to the hospital in time to have her stomach pumped, and it ended as nothing more than a scare.
Under the alphabetical ordering, Yang Shuyi’s “Y” landed second from the bottom. Last was “Zhao Lu.” Shao Wu’s “S,” meanwhile, happened to fall on the final line of the first page. Just a little closer and the two of their names would have appeared on the same sheet of paper.
The closer the gaokao came, the more frequently the school organized mock exams. Their homeroom teacher said it was meant to make everyone numb to examinations. Numb? Exactly. Sister Shan said the same thing: Just treat the gaokao like another ordinary mock exam, and you’ll be fine.
The students groaned. Zhou Lei propped up his chin and replied, “Sister Shan, how could it be that easy!”
Sister Shan smiled, rather pleased. “You all still have plenty of energy. Good, good. I heard the science classes on the fifth floor are completely wilted. Every one of them looks half asleep.”
“We want to sleep too,” another sports student said. “But if our homeroom teacher catches us once, we have to pay five yuan into the class fund.”
Sister Shan said, “That sounds like a good method. I’ll mention it to the science-class teachers later…”
As the only humanities class, Humanities Class 1 still had a fairly normal atmosphere. Apart from the handful of sports students who had already been admitted early, everyone had their heads down studying. Those sports students perhaps felt guilty, as if they had deserted the gaokao, so they did not dare flaunt their freedom much. They simply sat quietly reading leisure books while everyone else worked on problems.
Shao Wu’s grades remained steady within the top three in the class, usually second or third, occasionally overtaking Han Huiyuan for first. Han Huiyuan had passed Fudan’s autonomous admissions, but it only gave her a ten-point reduction, so she was still under enormous pressure. Sometimes, when studying wore her out, she would lie on her desk staring blankly. Zhou Lei would immediately sidle over to tease her. “Class Monitor, there’s a guy outside looking for you.”
The first two times, Han Huiyuan really went outside. Later, she simply ignored Zhou Lei, turned her head the other way, and continued staring into space. Zhou Lei never became discouraged and still clung to her side chattering endlessly. The students nearby exchanged knowing looks. Indeed, the fact that Zhou Lei had a crush on Han Huiyuan had long since become common knowledge throughout the class.
Yang Shuyi’s ranking stayed around twenty-fifth in the class, with several test scores hovering around 590. Shao Wu leafed through last year’s university application guide and secretly circled Beijing Institute of Technology, Beijing Jiaotong University, Beijing International Studies University, and several other schools. He thought that if Yang Shuyi scored around 590 on the gaokao too, applying to those schools should not be a problem. Science-oriented universities generally had lower admission cutoffs for humanities students. Of course, if Yang Shuyi wanted a humanities-oriented school, Beijing International Studies University or Capital Normal University would also be good choices.
When Shao Wu had become numb from solving problems, thinking about things like this was the only thing that loosened the knot in his mind.
After two torrential downpours, an osmanthus tree beside the badminton court fell over, but the gaokao countdown board remained standing. Its two-digit number went from beginning with a “2,” to beginning with a “1,” and finally to a single digit.
School let out two days before the gaokao. Their homeroom teacher repeated his instructions over and over: “Don’t overeat! Don’t eat cold or spicy food! Especially tell your parents to use less chili when they cook! Hold out for just these few days! Once the exam is over, you can drink chili oil for all I care! And also, even though you’re on break, don’t think it’s time to relax. It’s not time to relax yet! If you don’t want to do problems, then read. If you don’t want to read, read anyway! Especially your error notebooks. Go over them! And… what else? Let me think…”
“Teacher,” one boy supplied, “no going to internet cafés.”
The whole class burst out laughing. Their homeroom teacher nodded. “What are you laughing at? Niu Hao is right. No internet cafés! Especially those of you who usually like going online. I won’t name names, but these next two days, you are not allowed in an internet café! The school has specifically assigned teachers to catch students at internet cafés. I’m warning you, if someone from our class gets caught, even after the gaokao you’ll still have to write me a self-criticism!”
“And another thing. It’s written on the Notice we gave you, but I’m emphasizing it again. On the morning of June seventh, don’t show up at the last minute! Come to the classroom first. I’ll hand out your admission tickets and 2B pencils. You’ve all bought black ink pens, right? Don’t let your pen run dry in the middle of the exam…”
He had actually repeated these instructions at least five times already. Yet now, he still went through every tiny detail as though reminding them for the first time.
This was Humanities Class 1’s final class meeting. No one did homework or dozed off as usual. Every student looked at their homeroom teacher, including Yang Shuyi.
“Students, to tell you the truth, I’m actually going to miss you. But…” At the end, their homeroom teacher smiled with remarkable ease. “I certainly don’t want to run into any of you in the repeaters’ class in August. You’ll all be fine. As long as you perform normally, you can all get into good schools. I’ve taught for decades. I can tell at a glance. Really.”
Han Huiyuan lowered her head and rubbed her eyes.
“All right, if I keep talking, you’ll start crying. What a bother.” Their homeroom teacher waved his hand forcefully. Facing the 2009 Humanities Class 1 for the last time, he called out in a strong, ringing voice, “Class dismissed!”
Han Huiyuan called, “Stand!”
As if by agreement, the students sprang neatly to their feet and shouted together, “Tea-cher, good-bye!”
Their homeroom teacher was still smiling, but he rolled up the papers on the desk and hurried straight out of the classroom, so quickly it looked as though he were fleeing.
The students began packing their schoolbags. Their classroom would not be used as a gaokao examination room, so books and papers they did not need could stay there until they came back after the exam to collect them. The classroom was noisy and chaotic. Someone had written a string of decorative characters on the blackboard: Victory in the Gaokao! Immediately afterward, two art students rushed up to the front. One drew a round Doraemon with the line: Want some Memory Bread? The other, astonishingly, drew Old Chen, their math teacher, complete with tiny glasses and a general’s belly, along with one of Old Chen’s classic sayings: Students, you must cultivate your intuition for problems!
Elio’s Notes: Memory Bread is one of Doraemon’s gadgets: press it against written text, eat it, and supposedly you’ll memorize what was on the page. Every exam-taker’s dream.
More students crowded toward the blackboard. Blessings and words of encouragement appeared everywhere, along with all kinds of doodles: cats, dogs, Astro Boy, even a “Peking University Admission Notice.” Below the podium, the sports students who had already been admitted were discussing which internet café to go to. Han Huiyuan was chasing Zhou Lei around and hitting him, Shen Qi was explaining a problem to Wang Yiheng, and Zheng Xiaoning’s eyes were bright red…
Shao Wu looked toward Yang Shuyi, who was standing beside his desk packing his schoolbag.
The next time they saw each other would be on the day of the gaokao.
At that moment, Shao Wu badly wanted to say something to Yang Shuyi. But what could he say? Good luck on the gaokao? Their ears had practically grown calluses from hearing it. Yet apart from that, there seemed to be nothing else to say. Before the gaokao, everything had to give way.
Shao Wu suddenly remembered that Yang Shuyi had once said he wanted to attend university in the north.
Maybe Shao Wu should tell him, I want that too.
“Shao Wu!”
“Huh?”
Zhu Jingjing had already put on her schoolbag and was standing in front of him. The tip of her nose shone, as though she had worked up a little sweat. In a competition a few months earlier, Zhu Jingjing had strained her calf, so she had failed to secure early admission to Sichuan University. Fortunately, she could attend Southwest University.
Shao Wu knew that she had wanted Sichuan University.
“So… May twelfth was your birthday, right?” Zhu Jingjing lowered her voice. “Sorry. I forgot.”
Shao Wu smiled and shook his head. “It’s fine. I didn’t celebrate that birthday anyway.”
Zhu Jingjing pursed her lips. “Then can I make it up now with a ‘happy birthday’? As for your present… I’ll give it to you after the gaokao.”
“Sure. Thanks, Jingjing.”
“Come on, you and me don’t need to be polite… Oh, right. Did you like the present I gave you last year?”
Last year’s present? Shao Wu froze for two seconds before remembering that he had never even opened it. That afternoon, he had been so excited to go photograph the graffiti, the graffiti Yang Shuyi had painted for him, only for the wall to collapse. He had not opened a single present his classmates gave him. At the time he had not been in the mood, and afterward… afterward he had even less of one. By now, he had no idea where his mother had put the gifts.
“I liked it,” Shao Wu lied, not wanting to disappoint her. “Really.”
Shao Wu thought that after the gaokao he would find them and see what everyone had given him.
Zhu Jingjing’s eyes curved into crescents, still as boisterous as ever. “Of course! I spent ages picking it out! You’d better like it!”
“Mm, thanks…” Shao Wu answered Zhu Jingjing while searching for Yang Shuyi with his eyes. But in the time it took them to exchange those few sentences, Yang Shuyi had already left. His desk was completely cleared.
He had actually left already.
What was he in such a hurry for? Would another half minute have killed him? Shao Wu suddenly felt aggrieved. The gaokao was almost here. He only wanted to talk to Yang Shuyi for a little while.
After packing his schoolbag, Shao Wu trudged out of the classroom with his head hanging, staring at his shoes. What was Yang Shuyi in such a hurry for?
He had only taken a few steps when someone suddenly tugged his schoolbag from behind.
“What are you thinking about?” Yang Shuyi’s voice came from behind him, carrying a hint of laughter. “Were you really going to leave without waiting for me?”