Rebirth of Chinese Entertainment, the Diary of a 95 Flower

I took the college entrance exam in my past life. What score did I get?

Jiang Yang couldn't remember.

Anyway, during my senior year of high school, my classmates often said that if we didn't do well on the exam, we would only be able to go to a relatively bad local university.

When the scores came out, it turned out that he couldn't even get into the local university.

Go to Lanxiang Technical School and drive an excavator.

I can't remember many things, including the atmosphere of the exam at the time.

At that time, I was so nervous that I was thinking about whether I could copy other people's answers.

Right now, I'm leisurely doing my homework.

I realized that the atmosphere in the college entrance examination room is different from that in the mock exams organized by the school.

There were more than forty candidates in the entire examination room, and occasionally the sound of flipping through exam papers could be heard.

The rest of the time, it was eerily quiet.

For a moment, you could even hear the ticking of the second hand on the clock on the blackboard.

It's already early summer.

Cicadas were chirping in the trees outside the window, but the sound was muffled by the glass.

The air was silent.

The classroom was filled with anxiety.

The sound of patrolling teachers could be heard from time to time in the corridor outside.

After writing the last word of his essay, Jiang Yang gently lifted his wrist, put down his pen, and looked at the clock on the blackboard.

It's ten o'clock sharp.

Sitting in a seat near the front row, I looked up and was noticed by the proctor sitting on the podium.

He exchanged a glance with the proctor.

You can detect the scrutiny in the other person's eyes.

Upon entering the examination room, I was checked by a metal detector. Cell phones were not allowed. The invigilation was very strict, and there were supervisors patrolling outside.

There was still plenty of time left. If this were a regular school mock exam, I would have handed in the paper immediately.

The college entrance exam is not good.

Because it would affect the mood of other test takers.

Jiang Yang leisurely twirled his pen, showing no concern whatsoever for his grades.

The learning attributes he'd gleaned from Yang Chaoyue were overflowing; he had nothing to worry about.

The questions seemed to be etched into my mind, and the answers flowed out naturally.

I'm even more worried about those girls scattered across different exam venues and cities.

Where is Chaoyue writing now?

Are the Chinese language exam papers in Jiangsu difficult?
Also, what were the essay topics in Beiping? Did Haochun write them clearly?

Writing essays follows a set formula, unlike acting. It's written specifically for the examiner, and often requires writing some insincere things to get a high score.

Hao Chun is single-minded and always speaks the truth. Is it easy to write clearly?

There's also Zhou Ye, who took the exam in Yuecheng.

Is this delivery rider still delivering food?

Naza treats Zhou Ye very well.

They were hoping to make more money off Nazha after signing Zhou Ye.

As for Xiwei.

Jiang Yang's heart softened at the thought of Tian Xiwei.

I looked back subconsciously.

Because Tian Xiwei and he were assigned to the same examination room.

I saw Xiwei sitting near the back window, head down, her hair in a ponytail, writing furiously.

"What are you looking at! What are you looking at?"

The proctor, who was on patrol, immediately strode towards Jiang Yang with a scrutinizing gaze.

Is it cheating?

uncertain.

The National College Entrance Examination (Gaokao) is like a thousand soldiers crossing a single-plank bridge; any carelessness could ruin a student's future and disappoint countless families.

The words fell.

The other candidates all turned to look.

Jiang Yang instinctively tried to force a polite smile: "No, teacher, I didn't cheat..."

I held back from saying it.

Then I remembered that he is currently a student.

Unlike on a film set, no one here calls him Teacher Jiang.

This is the college entrance examination venue; any unusual movement could be considered cheating.

I've been so used to running around on set these past few months that I'm having trouble adjusting to this new role.

It was indeed he who did the wrong thing.

It's normal for the proctor to notice him.

Jiang Yang swallowed his words and remained silent.

He obediently lowered his head.

Seeing this, Tian Xi suppressed a laugh.

When Jiang Yang turned around to look at her, she had already noticed it.

I caught a glimpse of him peeking around out of the corner of my eye, and I couldn't help but want to laugh, but I didn't dare to make a sound. So I pursed my lips tightly and wrote faster.

She didn't dare to secretly raise her eyes until the proctor walked over quickly and started talking to Jiang Yang.

The man who used to command respect on set and was fawned over as "Teacher Jiang" by the executive director and assistant directors was now bowing his head, his shoulders slightly hunched, looking like a timid little chick that had been caught, adorably cowardly.

If it weren't for the fact that I can't use my phone.

I really want to record this and post it in the group chat.

Let Chaoyue and the others see what the dog boss looks like.

It'll make everyone laugh to death.

The proctor stared at Jiang Yang for a few seconds, then picked up Jiang Yang's exam paper and examined it.

Jiang Yang felt perfectly at ease.

The proctor glanced at Jiang Yang's name and exam number, then looked at the contents of Jiang Yang's exam paper again, and reminded him in a serious but gentle tone: "Take the exam seriously, don't look around, think more about what you don't know, and don't let your mind wander. There's still an hour and a half left before the exam ends..."

That’s what I said.

Suddenly paused.

He slowly uttered a few words: "So fast, you've finished writing it all?"

Neat handwriting.

There were no signs of alteration.

It's like getting the exam paper and copying the answers right away; you finish copying them just as you've finished.

After saying that, he glanced at the time and confirmed that only an hour had passed.

The proctor frowned slightly and flipped through Jiang Yang's exam paper several times.

Suddenly I understood why the examinee named Jiang Yang had been looking around so much.

This kid wasn't trying to cheat, he was just bored.

Is he a top student in some honors class?
Invigilating exams is boring enough, but after get off work, I can talk about it with my family.

After the college entrance exam, when I start working in an office, I can tell my colleagues about it as something new: a student named Jiang Yang from Tongliang Middle School finished the Chinese exam in just one hour.

He handed the test paper back to Jiang Yang and bowed to remind him, "Check it carefully after you finish. This is the college entrance examination, not a regular mock exam. Make the most of it and check it several times."

Then they continued to inspect the examination rooms.

Tian Xi lowered her head, initially suppressing a laugh, but only came to her senses after realizing that Jiang Yang had finished writing everything.

I hadn't even finished the reading comprehension section yet, and he had already finished the whole thing in an hour?
"That boss is a real pervert," Tian Xiwei muttered to herself.

There were both complaints and undisguised astonishment.

I had previously heard Yang Chaoyue say that Jiang Yang's academic performance was so good that he could spot mistakes in the textbook.

At the time, I thought Chaoyue was just bragging.

Even if Jiang Yang ranked in the top ten of his grade in the last midterm exam, he wouldn't be this outstanding.

Now, some of them believe it.

Some even suspected that Jiang Yang had held back during that midterm exam.

This is the first time I've been in the same exam room as Jiang Yang.

I could clearly feel Jiang Yang's problem-solving efficiency.

He buried himself in writing for a while longer.

Tian Xi glanced at Jiang Yang and saw that he was propping his head up, seemingly lost in thought, looking quite relaxed.

Then I looked at my test paper; I had finished the reading comprehension section.

There were only fifty minutes left.

Anxiety surged up like a tidal wave, and even the tip of my pen trembled slightly.

She took a deep breath, forced herself to calm down, and focused her gaze on the essay title.

It says:

Read the following material and write an essay of no less than 800 words according to the requirements.

Language learning is related to a person's lifelong development, and the overall language literacy of society is related to a country's soft power and cultural confidence.

For us middle school students, there are three main ways to improve our Chinese language literacy: effective classroom teaching, extensive extracurricular reading, and social life practice.

Based on the material and your own experience in learning Chinese, compare the three approaches mentioned above and explain your views and reasons.

Choose a good angle, determine the theme, specify the genre, and create your own title.

Do not plagiarize, copy, or disclose personal information.
"What a ridiculous question."

This was Tian Xiwei's first thought.

You need to write about both classroom and extracurricular activities; these are experiences that high school students all have.

But where can we find social practice opportunities?
Everyone is busy studying and has little time to sleep.

I can only make things up... No, that's not right.

Tian Xiwei suddenly realized that she didn't need to make things up for this essay.

During the six months she spent with Jiang Yang, she gained a wealth of social practice experience.

Tian Xi pondered for a moment.

I understand how to write this essay now.

It's important to stay focused on the main point.

The three approaches to improving language skills should be integrated into the story.

For example, the strength she gained from the teacher's lectures in class is the essence of classroom teaching.

The experience of reading books in the library is the key point of extracurricular reading.

The experiences of living with my parents and sister, as well as filming, are also relevant to the theme of social practice.

It shouldn't be forced; it should blend naturally into the plot.

Furthermore, one should not discuss the topic in its entirety.

Writing argumentative essays was not her forte.

Therefore, it is necessary to connect these three elements in the question through specific scenarios and details.

Tian Xiwei picked up her pen and wrote:
[————

I used to think that language was the light hidden in the folds of life.

It's a yellowed order from Dad's repair kit. Sometimes after he finishes repairing appliances, he'll point to the words and ask me what it means.

It's a handwritten account book by my mother, recording the mundane details of daily life, like firewood, rice, oil, and salt.

It's my practice clothes, soaked with my sweat; every drop of sweat reflects my dream.

Seeing the four characters "Chinese language literacy" in the essay topic brought back these images, illuminating the past.

When I first started learning Chinese, I didn't understand what literacy was. I only knew that Chinese required memorizing texts and being able to answer reading comprehension questions.

I'm a dance student. When I was taking the art exams, everyone around me applied to local schools, but I decided to apply to the Beijing Dance Academy. Everyone advised me not to be too ambitious.

My best friend said that we are just kids from ordinary families, so it's enough for us to go to local universities.

Even the dance teacher frowned and said the risk was too great and that we shouldn't overestimate ourselves.

But when I thought of my little sister clinging to my old dance shoes and refusing to let go, she looked up at me and said, "Sister, you dance so well. I want to learn too..." my heart felt like it was being tugged by something.

One night, I heard my mother crying in the kitchen, telling my father that the family could only support one child, and that the younger one was being wronged.

I hid outside the door, pretending not to hear, and didn't dare to push the door open and say, "Let my sister learn dance, I don't want to learn anymore."

When the results came out, I still failed the exam.

I sat in the subway station in Beiping, watching the people rushing by, and tears streamed down my face.

Suddenly, I remembered a sentence I saw in a book I borrowed from the library: Life cannot wait for others to arrange it; you have to strive and fight for it yourself.

At that time, I only marked this sentence as a point for my future essays, but it wasn't until that day in the subway station that I truly understood the meaning between the lines.

It turns out that studying is not just about passing exams, but about having something to rely on in difficult times so that you won't be defeated.

What happened next was like an unexpected surprise.

I signed with a media company, became an actor, and acted in movies and TV series, playing a minor supporting role who perseveres for his dream.

The first time I filmed a movie, my voice trembled and my palms were sweaty as I read my lines from the script.

I suddenly remembered that every time I talked to my mother on the phone, even though I was staying up all night on set and my eyes were swollen, I would always put on a cheerful voice and say, "Mom, I ate a lot of delicious food, don't worry."

I learned that speaking and writing are ways to properly convey what we care about to others, and that's what language has taught me.

On the day I received my first paycheck, I didn't buy anything for myself first. Instead, I went to the mall and picked out a belt that my dad liked, bought skincare products that my mom usually couldn't afford, and bought a backpack that my sister liked.

My little sister hugged the backpack I bought for her, her eyes shining like stars.

I told her that I would support her dance lessons from now on, and she could dance for as long as she wanted.

My mother stood beside me, wiping away her tears and smiling, saying that I had grown up and could care for others.

That night, I wrote in my diary: "I didn't know that Chinese is just the words in the textbook, but the words that can make my family laugh and the power to make my sister's dream come true."

As I write this, I realize that there are only twenty minutes left before I have to hand in my paper.

The sunlight fell on the composition paper, like the reflection on Mom's supermarket name tag, like the glint on Dad's new tools, like the silver sequins on my sister's dance shoes.

I suddenly realized that language literacy is never an isolated thing; it is the persistence that teachers teach me in class that is the foundation that keeps me from giving up when things get tough.

The insights I gained from reading extracurricular books are like leaves, which helped me understand the hardships others face.

The lessons I've learned to cherish in life are the fruits of my labor, enabling me to protect the people I care about.

For me, Chinese language and literature have never been cold, hard facts; they are the light hidden in life, the ability to make ordinary days feel reassuring to my family.

It was because I signed with the company that I was able to follow my boss who appreciated me, move forward step by step, not fall behind, and also fulfill my sister's dream of dancing.

Happiness is never about making a lot of money; it's about using the language in your heart to write down love and warmth beautifully.

It was written on the composition paper, and it will be written in the days to come.

————]
Read it over after you finish writing it.

Tian Xiwei wanted to take out her phone to take a picture and send it to the group chat again.

This is the first time I've written an essay, and I'm so satisfied with it.

There are fictional parts; after all, it's an essay, and to stay on topic, we've practiced lying since childhood. But this time, most of the content is true.

“The essay topic in Wudu city is definitely the same as mine. I wonder how Zhou Ye did.” Tian Xiwei suddenly remembered: “Ye Zi probably didn’t take the exam in Wudu. She’s in Yuecheng. She often comes to Wudu during her holidays to stay with her grandparents. She studies in Yuecheng.”

……

Yuecheng.

The college entrance examination venue.

Zhou Ye sat near the podium, taking the new national standardized test (Paper 1). After finishing the reading comprehension section, he glanced at the essay topic.

It turned out to be a rare essay prompt based on a cartoon; this type of prompt is seldom seen in mock exams.

The scene consists of four parts.

Students who score 100 receive a lip print as a reward, while those who score 55 are slapped.

When the score dropped from 100 to 98, the former was slapped, while the latter, which rose from 55 to 61, received a lip print.

The prompt requires candidates to combine the content and meaning of the cartoon, choose a good angle, determine the theme, and write an essay of no less than 800 words. The essay can focus on topics such as "evaluation standards for family education", "the relationship between grades and growth" and "reflections on exam-oriented education".

Zhou Ye picked up his pen and wrote down the title of his essay:

[The lessons not explicitly stated in the comics]
Think for a few seconds.

Once you've determined which content can be fictional and which can be written truthfully to get a high score, you'll be fine.

Zhou Ye picked up his pen and wrote:

[——

When I first saw this cartoon, I always felt that it contained a precious truth that could not be spoken.

The bright red lip prints and handprints on it look like the little red flowers my grandfather used to stick on me when I was little, or like the eye-rolls others give me when they see me delivering takeout.

In the first panel of the comic, the child who got 100 points on the test received a lip print.

I stared at that splash of red and remembered that monthly exam in my second year of high school. I ranked in the top ten in the grade and sent a picture of my report card to my parents who were traveling in another city. They neither belittled me nor praised me. They just sent me a postcard with the words written crookedly on the back: "Yezi, you don't need to tell us how many points you got. When we get home, play us a piano piece. That will make us happier than seeing the score."

Back then, I didn't understand why other people's parents would focus on their grades and scold them, while my parents always said that being happy was the most important thing.

Later, while delivering food, he encountered a construction worker squatting by the roadside looking at his son's test paper. The paper, which scored 60 points, was covered with red checkmarks. The worker smiled, revealing his gap-toothed grin: "My kid scored 5 points more than last time!"

I suddenly realized that lip prints shouldn't only be given 100 points, but should be given to every bit of upward effort.

Just like when I play the piano, even if I make a few wrong notes, my grandfather will clap his hands and say, "My little sister plays so beautifully."

The second panel of the comic shows 55 points, with a handprint printed on it.

I touched the electric scooter key in my pocket. It had a charm on it, which my grandma had made for me with a red string when I decided to become a food delivery driver.

When my neighbor saw me wearing a delivery uniform, she scoffed and said, "What a good girl, giving up her studies to deliver food. She's so useless."

The slap in his words hurt more than the one in the comic.

But I remember on my first day of delivery, I slipped and fell into a puddle in the pouring rain, spilling most of the soup. The customer was a nurse, and instead of scolding me, she handed me a dry towel and said, "You came in the rain, which is already very responsible of you."

It turns out that some people's slaps are never because you didn't do well, but because they didn't see the difficulties you faced.

True kindness never disappears just because you haven't reached it. Just like Grandma always said, "A Chongqing boy should be wild and not care what others say."

The third panel of the comic really touched me; it dropped from 100 points to 98 points, and I got a slap in the face in return.

I remember when I took the entrance exam for the Beijing Film Academy, I didn't get first place in the preliminary exam. When I walked out of the exam room, a girl who took the exam with me said, "Your score is so low, and you still want to be an actor."

That day, I squatted outside the exam hall and cried, but a good friend of mine said to me, "98 points is not bad at all. It means you still have a chance to see more."

He was the owner of a media company, and later he took me to Beiping (Beijing).

In a bar where the average spending per person is 3000 yuan, I saw a rich second-generation kid spraying his Patek Philippe watch with Ace of Spades champagne for fun. After going downstairs, I found a homeless man using an empty bottle of the same brand of liquor as a pillow under a bridge.

Outside the paid public toilet at the bus station, I witnessed migrant workers, their faces flushed red from holding it in because they couldn't bear to spend the one yuan to use the toilet.

I saw an elderly scavenger carefully wrapping the cake scraps he had collected in a clean handkerchief.

In the early hours of the morning, a young woman with chilblains on her hands was found squatting down to tie her younger sister's shoelaces at a convenience store. The two shared a rice ball and were laughing happily.

At the wholesale market, I saw a vegetable vendor's daughter huddled in a styrofoam box doing her homework, while her mother's frostbitten hands were peeling rotten vegetable leaves.

He said, "You can't portray suffering not because you're bad, but because you've never experienced suffering."

Witnessing these things, I finally understood the meaning of that sentence.

Later, during my holiday, I delivered food and saw that many people were not doing well. Even though it had nothing to do with me, I felt like crying.

Once, I delivered medicine to an elderly woman in her ward. As I helped her organize the medicine box, she grasped my hand and said, "Thank you, young lady."

Those hands were as dry as tree bark, yet they gave me more peace of mind than any perfect score.

It turns out that dropping your score isn't a mistake; it's a way for you to see the world beyond scores.

What's more important than a perfect score is understanding, treating others' difficulties as your own lessons.

In the last panel of the comic, the score increased from 55 to 61, and a lip print was obtained.

I believe that progress is not measured by size. For example, when I transferred from a regular class to a media studies class, my homeroom teacher said, "Your usual scores are more than 100 points higher than the admission line for media studies students, but you want to take the art exam. Aren't you afraid?"

I remembered what my grandfather said: "A Chongqing native should dare to venture out."

I finally passed the entrance exam for the Beijing Film Academy. My ranking wasn't the highest, but it was something I earned through hard work.

Just like the 61 points in the comic, even if it's only 6 points more, it's earned through hard work and deserves a sweet lip print.

As I write this, I'll take another look at the four-panel comic.

The lip print and the slap in front of my eyes suddenly reminded me of my grandfather's words from Chongqing: "Sister, don't just look at grades, look at whether someone is sincere."

Yes, this cartoon didn't teach me how to get high scores, but how to see the warmth in life.

It's the concern on my parents' postcards, the keychain my grandma made, the words of the construction site uncle, the smiles in my family's video call, and the towel from the nurse.

These are more precious than a perfect score, and more powerful than a slap in the face.

The best praise is never a red mark or a slap, but rather that someone sees your efforts, understands your perseverance, and is there for you to take it slow.

Just like now, sitting in the exam room, writing these words, it's not to get a high score, but to tell everyone.

Growth is not about who gets the highest score, but about who lives authentically, smiles warmly, and walks steadily.

This is the most precious truth that wasn't explicitly stated in the comic.

————]
I finished writing and put down my pen.

I looked up and glanced at the time.

There are ten minutes left, enough time to do a final check.

I can't help but laugh when I think about what Liu Haochun posted in the [Pretty Girl Battle 4] group this morning.

Jilin support Liu Haochun received the message, assemble and ambush... Haochun clearly has never played King of Glory, just randomly sending messages in the chat, who is he ambushing in the exam room?

She and Liu Haochun were not familiar with each other.

However, just by looking at Liu Haochun's chats in the group and her private conversations with Yang Chaoyue about Liu Haochun's experiences on set, one can tell that Haochun is probably an honest and simple girl.

Hao Chun should be taking an exam in Beiping right now.

The exam papers and essay topics in Beiping must be quite different from those in Yuecheng.

I heard that the essay prompt is one of two choices.

She'll have to sign with Jiang Yang's company sooner or later.

In the future, I'll probably be spending a lot of time with Yang Chaoyue, Zhang Ruonan, Tian Xiwei, and that blockhead Liu Haochun from Jiangyang Company.

Hopefully, Haochun will focus on the exam and not make any mistakes.

Beiping.

The college entrance examination venue.

Liu Haochun was sitting near the door, looking at the essay topic.

It's an essay with two choices.

The first is an argumentative essay title: Why is "Laoqiang" so shocking?

The material mentions that in "A Laoqiang Tune Resounds on the White Deer Plain," the performance of Laoqiang is "heart-stirring" and "exhilarating," transcending the art form itself to become a symbol. Candidates are required to discuss the charm of Laoqiang, not limited to the original text, and to present clear viewpoints, sufficient evidence, and reasonable arguments.

The second topic is a narrative essay titled: The Magical Bookmark.

The task requires you to use your imagination to tell the story of a "magical bookmark" (which can communicate and help you realize your reading desire) and yourself. The story should express the theme of "loving to read and reading good books" and include details and descriptions.

Liu Haochun focused his attention on the second essay topic.

In other words, you need to create a bookmark that can communicate and fulfill your wishes, and that is relevant to the theme of reading, and then write a narrative essay about it.

Liu Haochun pondered for a moment, recalling the song Jiang Yang had written for her, which he had released at the entrance of the Beijing Dance Academy.

The Sea of ​​Stars

She picked up her pen and wrote down the title:
[Starry Night Bookmark]
He raised his hand to smooth out the writing paper.

She passed the entrance exam for the Beijing Dance Academy, and the cultural score requirement was low enough for her to be admitted, but writing was not her forte.

Even if you rack your brains to write, you still won't get a high score.

and so.

This time, I'll use the essay topic as a starting point to create a bookmark and write my own story.

Liu Haochun wrote the following:
[——

When I saw the essay topic, I instinctively reached for my pencil case, where a shiny metal bookmark lay, its star-like pattern bearing the marks of my tears.

I first saw it when I was in elementary school.

My mother threw the copy of Jane Eyre that I was reading on the ground, and struck my arm with a ruler. Her shrill voice pierced my ears: "You made several mistakes in dance practice today! What's the use of reading these frivolous books!"

I curled up in the corner of the wardrobe, staring at the creases on the spine of the book and crying, when I suddenly touched a bookmark tucked between the pages.

The sign read: "She was beaten too, but she didn't give up."

I turned to the page with the bookmark, where Jane Eyre, after being whipped at boarding school, still clutched the book and refused to let go.

That night, I stuck the bookmark to my chest and opened the book again without my parents' permission. It wasn't until the morning light climbed onto the pages that I discovered the words on the bookmark had changed to: "You can be brave too."

From then on, this magical bookmark became my only secret.

When my parents argued, I would hide on the balcony and read "The Camellia Stationery Store," and the phrase "gentleness is not weakness" would come to mind.

When I was asked to practice a pitiful look, I flipped through "One Hundred Years of Solitude," and it reminded me of the saying: "Loneliness is not a sin."

Once, my mother forced me to go to a dinner party. I hid the bookmark in my sleeve. At the dinner table, I listened to the grating compliments and felt the warmth of the bookmark on my fingertips. Suddenly, I remembered what was written in the book: "True dignity is in the heart."

For the first time, I mustered up the courage to say, "No."

When I got home, the ruler struck me even harder. I bit my lip and didn't cry. I only saw the stars on the bookmark shining slightly, as if someone was supporting me.

The night before my senior year art college entrance exam, the loud bang of my father slamming the door and leaving woke me up. My mother was sitting in the living room, crying and cursing: "It's all because of you that we've ended up like this!"

I huddled in the corner of the sofa, hugging my knees, feeling like trash abandoned by the whole world.

When the bookmark lit up with blue light, I saw a line of text: "A courageous refusal."

That night I sat with the book in my arms until dawn; the warmth of the bookmark's edge became my only source of courage.

A few days before the entrance exam for the Beijing Dance Academy, I met my boss. He was the first person to praise my clear eyes. He didn't ask me to play the victim or force me to compete for resources. Instead, he said I didn't need to prove myself to anyone.

He wrote a song for me called "Stars and the Sea" and said to me, "You yourself are a star, you are very precious."

The bookmark in my pocket suddenly got hot, emitting a faint glow, exactly like the imagery in the lyrics.

When filming "Fighter of the Destiny", I put a bookmark in the script. There was a crying scene that I couldn't get the feeling right. After the director yelled "cut", I touched the bookmark and suddenly saw the words reflected on it: "Think about the 'Jane Eyre' in the closet that year".

In an instant, all the memories of myself at ten years old, hiding in a corner to read, the nights I was beaten with a ruler but refused to put down my books, and the precious moments my boss described me to be all flooded back.

My tears fell naturally, and even the director praised my performance for being soulful.

Now, I look down at the composition paper, the bookmark gleaming faintly in my pencil case.

Suddenly I realized it was never some magical secret; it was the books I had read that gave me armor, and it was my boss's affirmation that allowed me to be myself.

Like the stars on a bookmark, they are never decorations that are carved on.

That is the power hidden in every good book, the light accumulated from every night of perseverance, and the brilliance that someone finally saw—the brilliance I always possessed.

——]
It has already exceeded the 800-word limit for an essay.

Liu Haochun understood that by this point, he had already met the requirements of the essay topic, and getting a passing grade would not be a problem.

She did not stop writing.

There are several sheets of writing paper.

Liu Haochun picked up his pen and continued writing.

As I wrote these two new paragraphs, my eyes welled up with tears:

[——

As I write this, I reach for my pencil case, where a shiny metal bookmark should be lying. But as I search through the canvas lining, I only find a few broken pen refills.

There is no such thing as a glowing bookmark. What I found in the closet that year was just a piece of silver foil left over from when my mother bought candy. The words that appeared later were all just me deceiving myself.

——]
Liu Haochun paused.

Keep writing.

His gaze grew increasingly resolute.

[——

When my parents were arguing and smashing plates, I would hide on the balcony and read. The phrase "gentleness is not weakness" on the pages of the book was something I had copied from the book into my heart and then transferred onto silver foil paper.

When my mother forced me to learn to look pitiful, I flipped through "One Hundred Years of Solitude." The line "Loneliness is not a sin" was a courage I forced upon myself, a fear that I might actually become a puppet trying to please others.

Even the time I said no and got beaten, the silver foil didn't glow at all. I held it to my chest, pretending that the coldness meant someone was backing me up.

During the Spring Festival when I was a senior in high school, my father slammed the door and left. My mother scolded me, saying that it was all because of me that the family was in this state.

I curled up on the sofa, hugging my knees, feeling like a piece of unwanted scrap paper.

I had already lost that silver foil by then, but I still looked at the air and saw it light up, and saw it say, "Someone will see your light."

I know it's fake, but I desperately need this fakeness, I need a reason to dare to leave that home where we're always arguing and always denying me.

It wasn't until I met my boss outside the Beijing Dance Academy exam hall that I slowly dared to admit that there was no bookmark helping me at all.

What has sustained me over the years is the character in the book who refuses to admit defeat, the courage I hold onto tightly, and the obsession with telling myself to hold on a little longer, even if the whole world denies me.

It was this falsehood that I used to create a little light for myself in a time when no one was there to support me, and an excuse I made for myself in a world full of negativity.

I use the excuse that someone sees my difficulties, and the excuse that someone will tell me I can be very brave.

The star bookmark is fake.

But the principles I read in books, the nights I endured on my own, and the moments when my boss affirmed me—they were real.

Like now, I no longer need to imagine a bookmark, because I finally dare to believe that I myself can be my own star.

——]
All written.

Liu Haochun knew very well that if he wrote the following part, he wouldn't get a high score on the essay.

I just have to write.

Anyway, with a score of over 200 in her academic subjects, she can get into the Beijing Dance Academy. She has already passed the most difficult art exam.

However, a score like "exceeding expectations" is not acceptable.

Chao Yue is not an art student.

I took the adult college entrance examination.

"Chaoyue is the top female student in the company, and she studies very hard. She should be quite calm in the face of this kind of exam."

She wasn't good with words, but Chaoyue was eloquent and took good care of her on set.

When Liu Haochun thinks of Yang Chaoyue, she still pictured the first time they met: Yang Chaoyue wearing a trench coat, with short hair and high heels, standing half a head taller than her, looking clean, neat, and composed.

Yancheng, Jiangsu Province.

Adult college entrance examination venue.

Yang Chaoyue sat near the back door. After finishing his reading comprehension, he looked up at the time and panicked.

Only five minutes left!
I haven't even written the essay yet, what am I going to do!
I was so nervous I wanted to scratch my head.

Yang Chaoyue carefully examined his adult college entrance examination essay topic:

Some say, "Persistence is more important than luck, because luck only favors those who work hard."

Some people say, "Luck is the key to success. Without opportunity, no amount of persistence will be of any use."

Based on your life experiences or observations, write an essay of no less than 800 words on the topic of "persistence and luck," discussing your understanding of the relationship between the two.

Claim:

The viewpoint is clear and the arguments are thorough.

Use specific examples to avoid vague statements.

The language is fluent and the logic is clear.
How do I write it?
Write 800 words in five minutes!

It's already getting hot in Yancheng.

The sparrows outside the window kept chirping, which annoyed Yang Chaoyue even more.

Yang Chaoyue wrote down the essay title.

Seeing the little bird's perseverance is my good fortune.
There wasn't time to think much.

It's important to reach the word count of 800.

Yang Chaoyue picked up his pen and wrote: The birds outside the window kept chirping. Chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp...
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PS:

Chattering away, begging for monthly tickets! (End of Chapter)