The sun hadn't yet risen, but the city was already stirring.
Cars rolled slowly down narrow lanes, their headlights casting soft cones of light on dew-covered pavement. Streets near exam centers were lined with banners that read "Wishing All Candidates Success" in bold red. Outside school gates, parents huddled in jackets, whispering prayers and checking watches.
Today was the day—the National College Entrance Examination.
Xu Jie stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his collar with shaking hands. His uniform looked the same, but everything else felt heavier. His room was silent except for the muffled footsteps of his mother pacing the hallway.
"Jie Jie," her voice finally came, gentle but tight with worry. "Eat something. You'll need the energy."
He stepped out into the kitchen where a warm breakfast waited: porridge, two boiled eggs, and a little cup of soy milk. His mother tried to smile but couldn't hide the anxiety in her eyes. She brushed a wrinkle off his sleeve, then quickly added, "Don't forget your ID card. And your black pens. I packed extras just in case."
"I know, Mom. I triple-checked."
"I know, I just—" Her voice caught. "This exam… it's everything."
Xu Jie nodded quietly. He understood. It wasn't just about college. It was about proving that every struggle, every sleepless night, every moment spent coding instead of playing, hadn't been a waste.
They left the house together. The sky was just beginning to pale, the air crisp with a breeze that smelled faintly of damp earth and hope.
The exam center was a former vocational college, temporarily transformed into a testing hub. Security guards stood at every gate, checking IDs. Volunteers directed nervous students and even more nervous parents. News vans hovered nearby, filming the mass of humanity converging for one defining test.
Xu Jie found his name on the notice board:Room 204, Building B.Seat 13.
Fitting, he thought. He'd always liked odd numbers.
As he made his way inside, he heard someone call out behind him.
"Took you long enough," said a familiar voice.
He turned to see Tang Rui, wearing a soft blue hoodie under her uniform blazer, her hair tied back neatly. She held a water bottle and a single pen in her hand.
"You came alone?" he asked.
She nodded. "My dad had a meeting. Didn't want to make it more emotional than it needed to be."
Xu Jie gave her a half-smile. "Ready?"
She looked up at the building, then back at him. "As I'll ever be."
There was a quiet moment between them, suspended in the early morning air. Neither needed to say much—they had already shared more than most.
"Let's do our best," Xu Jie said.
She bumped her shoulder against his lightly. "We always do."
The waiting area buzzed with tension. Classmates murmured formulas and mnemonics under their breath. Some clutched lucky charms or photos of loved ones. Xu Jie saw familiar faces—students he'd shared years of classrooms with, now scattered like chess pieces before the first move.
"Xu Jie!" a voice called.
It was Ms. Lin. She stood by the railing on the second floor, smiling warmly. "You've got this," she said, giving him a thumbs-up. "No matter what happens in there—you've already proven yourself."
He nodded, heart swelling. Somewhere in the crowd, he spotted Mr. Li too, quietly observing, hands in his coat pockets, offering a small, proud nod when their eyes met.
Then, the first bell rang.
Students began to file in, shoes echoing softly against the polished floor. No more distractions. No more rumors. No more second-guessing.
Just pens and paper. And everything they had prepared for.
The exam hall was cold and clinical, but Xu Jie hardly noticed. He sat at his assigned desk, placed his ID on the top corner, uncapped his pen, and stared at the sheet before him.
The first subject: Chinese language and literature.
He exhaled slowly.
Then began to write.
The hours passed in a blur of ink and thought. Between sections, he stretched his fingers, chewed silently on a granola bar, and recalled Tang Rui's voice from their study sessions: "Don't overthink. Trust your instincts."
He did.
By the end of the last subject—math—his hand ached, but he felt clear. Exhausted, but calm. When the final bell rang, a soft collective sigh rippled through the room.
Outside, students emerged blinking into the golden afternoon light. Some laughed, some cried. Parents rushed forward with water bottles and umbrellas, peppering their kids with questions.
Xu Jie's mother found him quickly, arms wide, tears already in her eyes.
"You did it!" she cried, hugging him tightly.
"I did," he murmured into her shoulder. "It's over."
Tang Rui found him near the bike racks as the sun dipped low behind the campus buildings. Her hoodie was wrinkled, her ponytail slightly askew, but her eyes were bright.
"How'd it go?" she asked.
"I think I... gave it everything."
"Same," she said. "Now all that's left is waiting."
He looked at her, really looked—and realized this wasn't the end.
Just a checkpoint.
"Thanks for being with me through all this," he said.
Tang Rui tilted her head. "You weren't alone, Xu Jie. Not for a second."
They stood there for a moment, not as competitors or even classmates, but as two people who had fought through storms, seen each other's lows, and still believed in what came next.
As they walked home side by side, the world around them no longer felt heavy. It felt open.
And somewhere deep in Xu Jie's heart, he knew—
The future was finally his to create.