chapter10
Dad actually stood firm for once: "Let her finish her exams before we talk marriage."
My aunt rolled her eyes: "A girl's youth only lasts so long! Past twenty, the offers dry up! You two won't listen? You'll regret it!"
After New Year's, February hit. Time was running out desperately short.
I hit a wall. No matter what, time wasn't enough. Anxiety gnawed at me.
The cafeteria lady stopped letting me wash dishes.
I panicked—Mom only gave me a hundred yuan for living expenses. Wouldn't last a month. The lady wiped her hands on her apron and smiled at me: "You eat all your meals here. No charge. Just focus on studying. I'm rooting for you."
"Thank you, Auntie!"
She blinked, surprised: "Thought you'd argue! Had a whole speech ready!"
I let out a short laugh that turned into tears. I bowed deeply: "Thank you!"
Her eyes reddened too. She waved me off, turning away: "Go study! If my own daughter had worked half as hard as you, I'd have sold the shirt off my back to put her through school!"
Jiang Xin saw how anxious I was.
Before evening study, she took out a sheet of scrap paper.
Drew a big tree.
"Think of a dynasty's history as this tree. The years are the trunk. All the events that happened? Those are the branches. Fill them in bit by bit... Memory's a skill. Find the method that works for you..."
She cracked my wall wide open.
I shut out everything else. Studied day and night.
June arrived.
The little gardenias by the dorm bloomed, their scent drifting on the air.
The great machine of the college entrance exams rumbled closer.
The evening of the 6th, after dinner, Jiang Xin dragged me to the school field.
Night fell, the light dimming. Half her face was lost in shadow.
"Xiaxia, if you don't make it this year... will you try again?"
"I probably won't get another chance." I clenched my hands. "Don't worry. You'll make it this time."
"But I want to go to Fudan!" She suddenly grabbed my hand. "Come on! Let's use this last minute. One more practice set!"
The exam was tomorrow. Most people were relaxing.
Few were in the classroom.
Jiang Xin pulled out a Huanggang math paper, tore it in half.
"Let's do this one! I bet this exact question shows up!"
Every second of the exam felt endless and agonizing.
Afterward, I felt completely hollow.
Walked like I was floating on air.
Packed my bags, said goodbye to Jiang Xin, and headed home.
"Thanks for making me do that paper that night."
She beamed: "Told you that question would appear!"
Dad was working construction now to support us both.
Mom still pushed her noodle cart.
I dropped my bags and went to find her. Just as she was being chased off by inspectors.
The cart was old and heavy. Pushing it uphill, her whole body strained, every strand of hair seemed to be straining.
My eyes burned. I ran forward and shoved hard from behind.
Mom turned, saw me, and her face crinkled into a smile: "All done?"
She didn’t ask how I did. That night, while sticking a medicinal patch on Dad’s back, she just said:
“Your dad and I’ll support you if you wanna go to college.”
“But don’t you dare blame us later for playin’ favorites. Once the harvest season’s over, you’re off to work.”
Turns out they never thought I’d make it.
Results day landed on Grandma’s birthday.
Chapter11
Mom was up at 5 AM, hit the market, bought a ton of groceries, and caught the earliest bus home. She was cookin’up a storm in the kitchen. Auntie was washing veggies at the gate, gossipin’
while rinsin’ a single bunch of celery for half an hour.
Dishes kept comin’ out, but Mom was still stuck in the kitchen.
Bein’ a big birthday, plenty of relatives showed.
We had three round tables goin’.
Everyone sat down, but there was no place for Mom.
Great-Aunt called from the kitchen: “Guihua, quit fussin’! Come sit!”
Grandma rapped her bowl: “Leave her be. She’s always been prickly, hates sittin’with folks.” Sister glanced at the wall clock, whisperin’: “Jie, it’s noon. Can we check scores now?”
Auntie overheard.
She scoffed: “What’s there to check? Kids bust their butts for three years and still might not make it. She ain’t exactly bright, only studied for one year. Be a miracle if she passed.”
“Think you can even scrape 300 points?”
Relatives piled on, nothin’but discouragement.
Uncle scolded Dad: “Girls oughta marry young! Why’re you lettin’her waste all that money foolin’ around?”
Auntie giggled, her fat jigglin’: “Well, he’s got no sons. What else can he do?”
Grandma’s face hardened: “You promised. If Xiaxia fails, that plot of land goes to Dabao. No backin’ out now.”
Dad’s shoulders went rigid. He handed me his old Nokia: “Go on. Check.”
Auntie cracked sunflower seeds, her voice drippin’ malice: “Xiaxia, everyone’s watchin’. Put it on speaker.”
I knew. My score wasn’t just about my future.
It was Dad’s pride. Mom’s backbone. That plot of land our family never got to use.
I took a deep breath, dialed the number, punched in the exam number burned into my brain. After an agonizing wait, a robotic voice droned:
Chinese: 121
Math: 92
English: 105
Liberal Arts: 240
Total: 548
That year, the cutoff for Tier 2 was 523. Tier 1 was 578.
My hands shook. My ears rang.
Thought I heard wrong. Hit redial.
The noisy hall fell dead silent.
Only the robotic voice echoed, cuttin’ through the air.
Sister reacted first. She threw her arms around me: “Jie! Jie! You made it! You got into Tier 2! You beat the line by 25 points! You’re amazing!”
Dad’s eyes turned red. He downed his drink in one gulp, mutterin’: “She made it … she actually made it …”
Mom was leanin’ against the doorway. I hadn’t even seen her come in.
She turned away, wipin’her eyes. Then she slid down the wall, crouchin’.
Dad walked over.
She clung to his legs, sobbin’.
Dad patted her shoulder: “Why cry? This is good news!”
“Xiaxia’s in college. We got hope now.”
Sister reached up, wipin’ my face, grinnin’: “Jie, don’t you cry too.” Was I cryin’?
I touched my cheek. It was soaked.
548 points. Might not seem like much to you smart folks.
But I’m just ordinary Zheng Xiaxia.
All my life, I gave it my all and never came first. Counted my awards on one hand.
Never solved that last math problem.
Never the kid Mom and Dad prized most. Never a single word of praise from the family.
A year ago, that foreign company slammed the door in my face.
But now? I made it.
Chapter12
Just Tier 2, maybe. But it was enough to pull me outta the mire I was stuck in.
Auntie gripped her chopsticks like she’d snap ‘em. Her smile was all teeth: “It’s only Tier 2, not some fancy university. What’s all the fuss about?”
I wiped my tears hard: “Course I’m happy! Beats 300 points, don’t it?”
“Brother One and Brother Two didn’t even make it to high school. And Didi’s got his entrance exams comin’up soon, right?”
Cousin had been glued to his game console. Now he looked annoyed: “Don’t drag me into this. School ain’t my thing.”
Auntie’s teeth practically ground to dust. She snatched the console: “Can’t you take this seriously?!”
Cousin shot back: “You never took me seriously! Uncle and Auntie moved to the city for Jie and Qiu! Why don’t you move for me?!”
Auntie fumed: “With your 300-point grades …”
“So what? Jie couldn’t even get 300 before!” Cousin kicked his chair back. “This is such a pain.” Grandma stood up shakily: “Sanbao, where you goin’? You haven’t eaten!”
“Not hungry. Too mad to eat.”
Cousin stormed out.
Grandma snapped at Auntie: “Look what you did! Boy left without eatin’! No wonder he’s so scrawny!”
Mom had pulled herself together.
I led her over, sat her in Cousin’s empty seat: “Ma, sit. Eat.”
She wiped her eyes: “But the water spinach ain’t cooked yet!”
I shot Auntie a look: “Let her do it. You’ve been workin’ all day.”
Auntie’s face changed. She opened her mouth to refuse.
Grandma glared at her: “Standin’ there like a statue? Go on! Guests are waitin’!”
Mom finally sat down, a relieved smile on her face.
I was the first Zheng kid to make it to a real university.
Among all these relatives, the best any of the young’uns had managed was a vocational college. In just ten minutes, the tune changed completely.
Congratulations and envy poured in.
Usually, at these gatherings, Uncle’s family—with their three sons—was the center of attention. Today, all eyes were on us.
“Jianjun, you got guts! Xiaxia’s in college, Qiuqiu’s a shoo-in too.”
“Two college daughters! Life’s gonna be sweet for you!”
Great-Aunt chuckled: “You’ll be drownin’in good wine every holiday now!”
Custom back home—sons-in-law bring wine for their fathers-in-law.
A cousin sighed: “No sons means no need to earn bride money! All that cash from the bride price?
You get to keep it! Makes me wish I’d had more daughters myself!”
“Yeah, a college daughter? That bride price oughta be 80,000, maybe 100,000!”
My smile faded.
Listen to that. Scary, ain’t it?
To these folks, a girl who made it to college was just worth a higher bride price.
An uncle sighed: “Times have changed. Marriage ain’t what it used to be. Girls turn their noses up at village houses now. Gotta buy one in the city!”
“Buyin’ in the city? Easy for you to say! Thirty years of loans! I’ll be dust before it’s paid off!” Everyone started moanin’ about it.
Chapter13
Times really had changed.
If you could find your own partner while workin’ away, fine.
But if you relied on matchmakers? The costs were insane. And lots of girls demanded a city apartment, no livin’ with the in-laws.
For folks with few ways to earn in the countryside? That was a mountain to climb.
Great-Aunt turned to Auntie: “Didn’t Dabao have a girlfriend? He’s twenty-five! You gotta hustle!”
Auntie’s face soured: “They broke up.”
“Just like that? Why?”
“She was ugly.”
Aunt frowned: “Sis-in-law, I met that girl. She looked perfectly fine.”
Grandma rapped her bowl: “Your sister-in-law started actin’ like the matriarch before the wedding was even set. Made the girl wash dishes and cook. Drove her right off.”
“Dabao hasn’t called home in two months now.”
Everyone started piling on Auntie.
Her denials only made it worse.
The topic only shifted back to Mom and Dad when another aunt started braggin’ about her son’s grades.
Dad had drunk a lot. His face was flushed.
The dampness in his eyes—was it the booze or the emotion?
After the feast, Mom headed back to the kitchen to wash dishes.
I grabbed her arm: “Ma, you bought the food, you cooked it. Let Auntie do the washin’.”
Sister and I practically dragged her home.
Auntie called after us: “Sis! Sis! The dishes …”
Mom took a deep breath, turned back with a tight smile: “Feelin’ a bit tipsy. Wash ‘em yourself tonight.”
Once we left Auntie’s yard, Mom picked up her pace. After a few steps, she suddenly burst out laughin’.
Then, laughin’, she started cryin’.
She turned and hugged me tight: “Xiaxia! Xiaxia! You really made your Ma proud!”
“Ma finally got to straighten her back for once.”
“Once Qiuqiu gets into a top-tier school, Ma can stand tall for good.”
I wanted to tell her.
Ma, you don’t need a son to hold your head high.
Life is yours to live. Don’t mind the gossip.
But I knew she couldn’t.
She couldn’t shake the beliefs carved into her bones.
Only by keepin’ climbin’, Sister and I—
Our success would be her glory, her strength.
News travels fast in the village.
By that night, everyone knew I’d gotten in.
They were shocked.
After all, I’d never shown much talent for schoolin’.
Chapter14
Dad strolled from one end of the village to the other, hands in his pockets.
Came back with a pocketful of cigarettes—gifts from folks.
Mom went down to the pond to wash clothes. Became the center of attention for all the wives. Her face stayed flushed for days.
Went to fill out my university choices. Finally saw Jiang Xin.
“How’d you do?”
“Eight points above last year’s Fudan cutoff, based on the ratio. Should be solid. Just not the major I wanted.”
“So you’ll …”
“I’m goin’ anyway!” Her eyes blazed. “I’ll figure it out once I’m there.”
The homeroom teacher pulled me aside.
“Zheng Xiaxia, if you repeated the year, I bet you could get into a top-tier school.”
Another year? Mom and Dad would never agree.
I shook my head: “Nah. I’m done.”
Jiang Xin slung an arm around my shoulder: “Don’t sweat it. You can go to grad school. With your grit, you could even make Fudan.”
“I’ll wait for you there.”
I picked a Tier 2 school in the provincial capital and applied for a student loan.
Mom and Dad were proud of me. I thought my life was turnin’ a new page.
But really, nothin’ much had changed.
Over summer break, I helped Mom fry rice noodles and took on any odd job I could find. Once, I wore a mascot costume for a new store’s opening.
38°C weather. Thick, stuffy suit. By the end of the day, I was completely wiped out.
Got home to find a watermelon soakin’ in the bucket.
Grabbed a knife, eager to dig in. Mom came back.
She slapped my hand away: “Wait for your sister. She’ll be hot walkin’home from school.” “I want it now.”
“Can’t wait one hour?” Mom frowned. “Why so impatient?”
She kept naggin’.
Finally, after I insisted, she cracked it open.
When Dad got home from work, she lectured me about it at dinner.
But Ma … if it was Sister who wanted it, would you make her wait for me?
School was startin’ soon.
Mom counted out 500 yuan for me.
Two hundreds, three fifties, and a stack of twenties.
She counted it three times: “City inspectors are crackin’ down harder. Business is tough. Dad’s boss never pays on time. You gotta pinch every penny.”
“Stay outta trouble out there.”
As she handed me the money, she pulled back a hundred: “You worked plenty over summer. You must have some saved up, right?”
That night, Sister slipped me 200 yuan.
“Where’d you get this?”
“Little Aunt gives me 100 yuan every New Year’s, secret-like. I saved it.”
See.
Smart kids get all the love. Get all the perks.
I told myself not to mind: I can work through college. Support myself. No problem.
But it wasn’t easy.
The capital had tons of universities—two 985s, one 211.
Our little Tier 2 college? Barely a blip.
Applyin’to be a tutor? One mention of our school name, doors slammed shut.
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