At First High School, as soon as the bell rang for the first Chinese exam, the proctor entered the classroom and opened the sealed test papers to distribute them.
Tao Zhi scanned through the questions after receiving hers.
Chinese was a subject that relied heavily on accumulated knowledge and couldn’t be rushed, so she hadn’t spent too much time on it lately. The midterm Chinese exam didn’t have many questions from previous material – the classical poetry recitation and classical Chinese translation were all from this semester. The reading comprehension techniques taught in class could be applied universally, and the essay mainly depended on precise themes and accumulated material.
At her current stage, there wasn’t much room to drastically improve her Chinese scores. She could only take it slowly.
Tao Zhi knew clearly that reaching 700 points at her current level was just a pipe dream, but if she aimed for 90%.
If she got 120 each for Math, Chinese and English, plus 240 for Science, that would add up to 600.
She probably couldn’t get that score in Science, but if she was careful with English and Chinese, she could probably pull up another thirty points or so to make up the gap.
If the questions were simple, she might have a tiny glimmer of hope of reaching 90% on that basis.
But for that to happen, she’d definitely need to score above 120 in Math, and Science couldn’t lag too far behind.
Probably.
She started feeling uncertain again.
Tao Zhi regretted it a bit – why did she impulsively tell Jiang Qi Huai about the 90%?
Wouldn’t 80% have been fine too, or even 85% at worst?
She sighed and raised her hand to roughly ruffle her hair, trying to shake all those messy thoughts out of her head.
Whatever.
She’d cross that bridge when she came to it. There would be time to worry about those things later – right now she didn’t have the mental space for it.
She picked up her pen again and focused on the exam at hand.
The midterm exams had much more generous time limits. The afternoon Math exam started at 3 PM and ended at 5 PM.
Early submission wasn’t allowed, and they didn’t need to rearrange the desks after the exam since they still had Science and English tomorrow.
Tao Zhi went straight out the school gate and opened the car door to get in, greeting Driver Gu.
After waiting a while, Ji Fan finally came out.
The boy looked sleepy as he climbed in while yawning: “Can’t believe they won’t let us submit early. Does this school have no humanity? I’ve been sleeping all day, I’m dying of boredom.”
Tao Zhi was a bit lost for words: “Writing a few more questions would kill you?”
“I did write, okay?” Ji Fan scratched his head, “I didn’t slack off this time. I finished the essay and wrote down everything I knew.”
“It’s just that you didn’t know very much.” Tao Zhi said leisurely.
Ji Fan glanced at her: “Jiang Zheng Xun and the others are comparing answers in the group chat, don’t you want to check?”
Tao Zhi touched the phone in her pocket through her jacket, paused, but still said: “No.”
She hadn’t memorized the answers anyway.
Once an exam was over, it was over. Even if she knew which questions she got right or wrong, she couldn’t get back the points that were already lost.
The next day, Friday, after the English exam ended, Tao Zhi went back to the classroom to arrange the desks.
She was still thinking about the essay she had just written while packing up in the exam room, so she moved slowly. By the time her classmates had returned to the exam room, she had just finished packing. When she got back to the classroom, her desk had already been pulled back and arranged.
Tao Zhi threw her backpack on the desk, pulled it back further with one hand, and straddled it while looking at Jiang Qi Huai behind her: “Your Highness, how about giving me an 85% discount?”
Jiang Qi Huai was still looking for his desk when he heard this and turned his head: “Bargaining?”
Tao Zhi thought for a moment, then more conservatively said: “If you’re willing, 80% would work too.”
Jiang Qi Huai raised his eyebrows: “There’s no end to this.”
“This is called having an accurate understanding of my abilities,” Tao Zhi said seriously.
Jiang Qi Huai found his desk and pulled it back with one hand: “What, didn’t do well?”
Tao Zhi sighed, lying on the desk he had just pulled back, and said honestly: “I don’t know, I think it should be okay.”
She pouted and said quietly: “But you know my abilities are limited in the first place.”
As Ji Fan would say, she answered everything she knew, at least she filled up the answer sheet.
Although she hadn’t gone out to play for these two and a half months, spending almost every day from morning to night studying, these two days of exams did feel much easier compared to before.
That feeling of seeing a test question and feeling at ease, clearly knowing in her heart that she could get it right, made Tao Zhi feel really good.
It was as if this world made up of these test papers was her domain.
The midterm exams ended on a weekend, and Tao Zhi decided to give herself a break.
She sent Jiang He Sheng a message canceling their tutoring sessions for these two days, and had a long-overdue lazy weekend, staying in her room reading books and spending an afternoon gaming with Ji Fan.
During dinner, Tao Xiu Ping came back and after some casual chat, he looked at Tao Zhi seemingly casually and asked: “By the way, how are things going with that little… boy you like?”
Tao Zhi scooped up a spoonful of tomato meatball soup and said cheerfully: “We’re in an impure ordinary classmate relationship.”
“…”
Tao Xiu Ping’s expression changed as he looked at her: “What do you mean by impure?”
Tao Zhi said slowly: “Well, I like him, and he knows I like him, but we’re not together yet.”
Tao Xiu Ping let out a long sigh of relief.
Old Tao felt he could no longer understand all these messy things going on in young people’s minds these days.
Just as he was feeling relieved and ladling himself some soup, Tao Zhi continued: “But we agreed that if I can score 630 on this midterm exam, we can date!”
Ji Fan rolled his eyes beside her.
Tao Xiu Ping almost spat out his soup.
He raised his spoon and looked up again: “How much?”
“630.” Tao Zhi pointed forward seriously.
Tao Xiu Ping thought he had misheard: “Is it 630 or 360?”
“…”
Tao Zhi was very unhappy now and looked at him expressionlessly: “Dad.”
“Dad was wrong, Dad was just joking.” Tao Xiu Ping coughed twice, put down his soup bowl, pulled out a napkin from the side to wipe his mouth, then picked up his bowl again, ready to continue drinking soup.
He glanced at Tao Zhi sitting across from him with a matter-of-fact expression and no worry at all, paused, and still couldn’t help but ask: “Did you cheat?”
“…”
Old Tao had accurately hit a nerve, and Tao Zhi exploded.
Tao Xiu Ping had to use both coaxing and jokes while holding back his laughter to smooth her ruffled feathers, and finally managed to calm down the princess’s temper.
After dinner, Tao Xiu Ping went upstairs to his study to work, while Tao Zhi and Ji Fan curled up on the couch to continue gaming.
Tao Zhi’s skills were terrible, relying entirely on Ji Fan’s godlike operations to carry her forward. She was only responsible for feeding, and as they played, their teammates couldn’t take it anymore and started typing to flame them.
Tao Zhi got excited and started exchanging clean insults with the opponents. Ji Fan kept his eyes on his phone screen, waited for a big move, then dashed into a crowd of enemies with some fancy operations, pulled off a perfect 1v3 and escaped unscathed, while asking: “Has Mom contacted you recently?”
Tao Zhi was typing away furiously and didn’t look up: “No, why would she contact me? If she’s going to contact anyone it would definitely be you.”
She said this so naturally that even she didn’t realize it at first.
After the words left her mouth, both of them paused their movements simultaneously. Ji Fan looked up at her blankly.
Tao Zhi didn’t look at him.
Ji Fan pressed his lips together, moved his gaze away, and said softly: “She hasn’t contacted me recently either. I called her twice but she didn’t answer.”
The boy’s thoughts weren’t particularly delicate, but he wasn’t stupid either.
He felt somewhat uncomfortable inside.
When they were young, Ji Fan always felt that Ji Jin was closer to Tao Zhi.
She would braid her hair prettily, buy her favorite dresses, and when Tao Zhi had trouble sleeping as a child, Ji Jin would lean against the bed and tell her stories.
Although sometimes he felt envious, he was a little man, mischievous every day, so being a bit tougher was fine. Girls were more delicate and relied more on their mothers, which was very normal.
Moreover, from that time on, Tao Xiu Ping was very busy with work and often not at home, so compared to their father whom they spent less time with, they were both closer to Ji Jin.
But later, Ji Jin chose to take him with her.
She abandoned Tao Zhi.
She didn’t want her anymore.
Ji Fan didn’t want this and made a fuss for a long time, but nothing came of it, and later he never mentioned it again.
The day they left, Tao Zhi didn’t show up, and Ji Fan cried.
He originally didn’t want to cry, as he wasn’t the type to cry easily – he hadn’t shed tears even when he got hurt in fights and went to the hospital, but that day, for some reason, the tears just wouldn’t stop.
There must truly be some inexplicable connection between twins, just like how he could sometimes be very sensitive to Tao Zhi’s emotions.
That day, Ji Fan felt that besides his own sadness, he deeply felt another person’s grief.
After the two-day break ended, Tao Zhi officially ended her rest period. Early Monday morning, Ji Fan came downstairs for breakfast and once again heard the familiar sound of English listening practice.
The teachers had taken the corrected midterm papers home to grade, and two days was enough time to calculate the scores. As soon as Tao Zhi arrived at the classroom, she felt the change in atmosphere.
Monthly tests were minor affairs – midterm and final exam scores were the focus, as they could be used as bonus points for various school and city evaluations.
When she arrived, it was almost time for morning self-study. Jiang Qi Huai’s seat was empty; he hadn’t arrived yet.
He rarely came too early, usually arriving just in time. Tao Zhi didn’t think much of it, sat in her seat, picked out the papers she planned to do during morning self-study, and lowered her head to work.
Even after several morning classes had finished, Jiang Qi Huai’s seat remained empty.
Even Ji Fan asked her: “Why isn’t my deskmate here?”
Tao Zhi looked at him somewhat puzzled: “He’s your deskmate, not mine, how would I know?”
Ji Fan crossed his arms and mocked her: “Aren’t you two in an impure ordinary classmate relationship? Shouldn’t you have more intelligence than me, his deskmate?”
He particularly emphasized the words “impure.”
Tao Zhi didn’t want to acknowledge him.
A whole day passed and Jiang Qi Huai didn’t come. Tao Zhi held back from asking. During afternoon self-study, Wang Zhe Zi brought the score sheets into the classroom, casually tore off a piece of transparent tape, and stuck the score sheets next to the blackboard: “I’m going to a meeting first, I’ll come back to do your midterm summary. Not saying much, look for yourselves.”
Silence.
After Wang Zhe Zi finished speaking and left the classroom, the moment the door closed, the classroom instantly erupted. The kids no longer cared whether they were in self-study or not, put down their books and swarmed to the score sheets, beginning their monthly routine.
Tao Zhi had something on her mind and hesitated in her seat before moving.
She suddenly felt that Jiang Qi Huai’s absence today might be a good thing.
What if she hadn’t scored high enough?
Anyway, letting him find out a day later that her score wasn’t enough was fine too.
She slowly walked to the front. A crowd had already gathered around the score sheets. Tao Zhi stood on the platform, squinting to look over their heads.
She habitually looked for her name from the bottom up, scanning through more than a dozen rows but couldn’t find it.
Tao Zhi’s heart was pounding, feeling like there was a little rabbit jumping up and down inside her body.
She continued looking up.
Past Gu Na Na, Zhao Ming Qi, all the way to class rank 39, she saw herself.
Tao Zhi held her breath, her gaze sliding across that long row of scores, landing on the final total score.
—583.
Not enough.
She hadn’t scored enough again.
Her English and Chinese did help pull her up about twenty points compared to the standard 120, but it still couldn’t make up for her deficits in Math and Science.
But, there was hope to be seen.
Tao Zhi didn’t feel sad, and somehow even felt a bit happy. She had already taken a big step forward towards Jiang Qi Huai.
The students around were discussing, and Jiang Zheng Xun sighed, looking at the familiar name in the first row of the score sheet: “I give up, is this person some kind of monster? Even in this situation, their total score can still jump up from the monthly test, we just can’t compete.”
“They’re not even in the same league as us,” Wu Nan shook his head, “This kind of test probably isn’t difficult at all for him.”
“After all, he’s gone for training,” Li Shuang Jiang had done quite well this time, and he bounced around saying, “For a mere midterm exam, Huai Brother wouldn’t even care. While we’re here sighing over the score sheet, he’s preparing for the National Olympics.”
Tao Zhi paused and turned her head: “What National Olympics?”
Li Shuang Jiang also paused, somewhat surprised: “The Math Olympics, of course. Didn’t Huai Brother participate before? He passed the first test and retest, and now he’s going to winter camp training to prepare for the national finals. Should be about a week, I thought Huai Brother had told you.”
Li Shuang Jiang continued excitedly: “If he gets a place in the finals, Huai Brother can get recommended for admission, right? Top schools will definitely be fighting over him.”
Tao Zhi pressed her lips together, and after a long while, said softly: “He never told me.”
He hadn’t.
He hadn’t told her anything, and perhaps it was reasonable – she knew nothing about the finals and had never asked. Jiang Qi Huai wouldn’t randomly come to tell her, hey, I’m going to training for the competition finals.
Tao Zhi knew very clearly that even in the national finals, Jiang Qi Huai would definitely achieve excellent results.
He had taken another step forward.
Tao Zhi bit her lip, lowered her eyes, and her eyelashes trembled slightly.
That little bit of happiness she had just felt was like a wisp of smoke that couldn’t be grasped, slowly rising and then dissipating bit by bit.
She thought the distance between them was rapidly shortening. Tao Zhi had tried her hardest, desperately wanting to catch up to his footsteps, and she had finally achieved some small results.
She raised her head, finally reaching out towards the mountain peak.
Then against the light, she watched as her boy stepped onto the clouds.
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