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Chapter 15

Rushing Toward a New Life.

A Hospital is about a hundred kilometers from Nancheng, roughly a two-hour drive. Chu Zhixia was going to take an exam and wasn’t in the mood to drive so far, so she had bought a high-speed train ticket well in advance. On the 25th, she allowed herself to relax a bit, went through all the rehearsal items one last time in the practice room, and prepared all her luggage, daily necessities, makeup, and clothes.

Early on the 26th, she set off on her journey.

The hotel had been booked half a month ago, recommended by Zhou Haoying—he stayed there at the time, it was very convenient, just over a ten-minute walk to the school, so no worries about being late.

The high-speed train took just over an hour, and Chu Zhixia arrived near A Hospital past eleven. She called the hotel and was told that since most students would only arrive on the 27th, there were many vacant rooms now and she could check in early.

A Hospital is one of the top three hospitals in the country, very prestigious, with several campuses. The campus for the retest was newly built in recent years, so the surroundings were somewhat desolate. Zhou Haoying was very busy but said he would have time in the evening to take her out for a meal. Chu Zhixia dragged her large suitcase and checked in by herself.

Her room was at the end of the fourth floor, room number 8408. Upon opening the door, it was smaller and older than she had imagined—several hooks by the entrance, a cramped bathroom, and further in a dark brown long TV stand, with some free space on the left that could serve as a desk, and then two small single beds—a standard double room.

Fortunately, there were two large clean windows that could both be opened, and overall the room was tidy with dark wooden flooring.

Chu Zhixia opened the window to let in fresh air. The weather had been bad these past two days; outside the window was foggy, as if it were going to rain.

She took out a few important outfits for the retest to hang up. She felt a bit tired and too lazy to unpack the suitcase further, so she lay on the bed and picked up her phone.

No one cared about her.

Yin Xueling wouldn’t send her any messages and probably didn’t even know when her exam was.

Aunt Zhou might know, but Zhou Haoying had reminded her not to disturb Chu Zhixia.

Other classmates and colleagues had distanced themselves since her resignation. Since childhood, she had mostly been with Zhou Haoying, and didn’t have other close friends.

Zhou Haoying had a performance that morning and was very busy, so he couldn’t pay attention to her.

Chu Zhixia felt a bit down, but just as she put down her phone and tried to get motivated to study, a WeChat notification suddenly popped up at the top of the screen.

She held her breath, fingers trembling as she tapped it open.

[Dr. Shen: Have you arrived?]

Chu Zhixia’s heart raced. She could almost imagine his slender fingers sending her the message in his spare moments at work, a cool image that suddenly made her feel warm. She quickly replied, [Mm, just arrived at the hotel, it’s a bit rundown QAQ.]

[Which location?]

Knowing he was worried about safety, she sent him the hotel name and location.

[I’m staying alone, no one to accompany me for the exam. Can you call me every night? Around 7 pm I’ll be done, confirm I’m back at the hotel.] She added this and pressed send, anxiously waiting.

Shen Qingshi replied quickly, [Okay. If I can’t reach you, I’ll check with the front desk immediately.]

Holding her phone, a smile involuntarily curled on Chu Zhixia’s lips. Her previous gloom and sadness instantly vanished.

It was so good to have him.

Having him was enough.

Finally, Chu Zhixia sent back [I’ll go study, you work hard too.] She turned over and lay a while longer, piling up various professional books, Q&A sheets, scores, scripts, etc., on the desk. She began practicing anytime, anywhere—small or large exercises, small or large singing—starting to study.

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March 28th and 29th were the two exam days, Friday and Saturday respectively.

The school was closed the day before the exam. On the afternoon of the 27th, Chu Zhixia tried to visit the exam site but the guard didn’t let her in, explaining that she should come earlier on the 28th, when guides and specific instructions would be provided.

She thanked them and on the way back met many other students visiting the exam site. They looked quite young, some in pairs, some accompanied by family. Few were alone like her.

Thinking that the exam would start around this time the next day, she felt understandably nervous. She walked along the outdoor viewing corridor outside the campus and looked toward a wisteria trellis in the distance.

The flowers were not yet blooming.

She let out a long breath, trying hard to ease her anxiety. After taking photos with her phone, she headed back to the hotel alone.

---

That night, she took a shower and wanted to sleep early but couldn’t fall asleep no matter what. Her chest felt heavy as if pressed by a huge stone. Looking around the unfamiliar, cramped room, the cold and gloomy weather, the faint drizzle tapping against the window sill late at night—she felt lonely and scared.

The soundproofing was poor. She vaguely heard a neighbor reciting loudly, mixed with cries of stress, which only worsened her anxiety.

Drowsy and restless, she picked up her phone—it was already 4 am. She had to get up at 6:30. Her head was pounding badly, tired but unable to sleep, anxious. In the confusion, she sent Shen Qingshi a message, not even sure what she wrote. Yet, it calmed her a little, and she finally fell into a deep sleep.

---

The first day went much more smoothly than she had expected.

The next morning, she felt woken by the alarm after little sleep and didn’t dare to snooze. She immediately got up to shower and do her makeup. The first day was the professional skills test, the main event. The school required a bare face, but similar to art exams, a “pseudo bare face” was allowed. She had checked with seniors—no makeup was allowed, heavy makeup would lose points, it just shouldn’t look like makeup.

Chu Zhixia didn’t hire a makeup artist but did a simple look herself, making a high bun hairstyle. She changed clothes; luckily the weather wasn’t cold, so a trench coat was enough—no need for a down jacket like in the art exam.

When she arrived at school, candidates for various majors had come, including hosting, directing, photography, and many taking written exams.

Her gaze lingered on the broadcast majors—girls with similar neat half-up ponytails and business suit skirts as she had when she took the exam.

At 7:15, security announced entry and collection of all electronic devices.

For some reason, the moment she officially stepped on campus felt surprisingly calm, with no anxiety at all.

—Solve the problem, don’t solve the emotion.

They drew lots to enter the exam in the morning, and it was over quickly.

The schedule was tight, lining up for classrooms according to the app, with nine people and almost no interaction.

Chu Zhixia couldn’t say much about it. She didn’t interact with the teachers; cameras were everywhere. She followed the procedure, going through vocal music, physical presentation, and two monologues.

---

When she spoke the lines of Blanche and Yuchun, she thought of Shen Qingshi and shivered slightly.

After finishing, she bowed and exited; it was not yet noon.

The interview and English test were scheduled for the next day—in other words, today was done.

A sudden wave of relief swept over her; Chu Zhixia almost wanted to jump up and down on the spot. There was a coffee shop next to the teaching building, so she scanned the code and waited as the machine slowly ground the beans, meanwhile calling Shen Qingshi.

It rang once but couldn’t connect—the exam site had signal blocked.

Holding her hot coffee, Chu Zhixia walked toward the cafeteria. Lunch was included in the retest fee—two meat dishes and two vegetable dishes, surprisingly decent. Since there was the interview tomorrow, she didn’t dare to eat too much.

She took a sip of seaweed soup and suddenly remembered the WeChat message from last night.

Opening her phone, she was relieved that she had kept it on airplane mode while sleeping; she had been too busy in the morning to switch it off, and had kept it blocked after arriving at the exam site, so the message had never been sent.

She exhaled softly and turned off airplane mode.

In the blink of an eye, it was the 28th, the last day.

The app showed that the performing arts major started check-in and waiting at 1:30 pm, including the interview and English test. Besides the professional course teachers, there would also be dedicated English teachers responsible for questioning on site.

Having experienced yesterday, Chu Zhixia was much more relaxed, though she still reviewed English professional Q&A until midnight. Thankfully, the exam was in the afternoon, so she could get a good rest.

No need to wear practice clothes for the interview. She applied light, clear makeup at a leisurely pace and chose a fitted white T-shirt, paired with dark long jeans with a slight flare, making her legs look very slim and long, clean and pure like a student. Her hair was tied up in a neat high ponytail, also with a high volume on top and no stray baby hairs.

Stepping out of the hotel elevator, Zhou Haoying was leaning against the wall waiting for her—the last afternoon of the exam period, he made time to accompany her. His eyes lit up, “So beautiful.”

“Really? I was worried it was too plain.”

Chu Zhixia thought of the few candidates she had met yesterday—most were performing arts majors, few cross-majors, and one was from the same school and major.

Zhou Haoying said, “Not plain at all, very beautiful.”

Indeed, very beautiful.

And great beauties are often more beautiful the plainer they are.

Chu Zhixia usually wore her hair down or casually clipped back with a shark clip; her ponytails were fluffy and loosely tied—she always felt tight hair ties caused hair loss. But true beauty was this kind: perfect from every angle, no baby hairs or stray strands, requiring no face-shaping embellishments, striking and vivid.

Perfect bone structure and skin, an overwhelming beauty.

“What are you thinking about?” Zhou Haoying was quiet all the way. Chu Zhixia didn’t know if he was nervous for her or what, so she asked.

“Thinking about how beautiful our children would be,” Zhou Haoying said, then met her speechless look and burst out laughing, “Just kidding, so you won’t be nervous.”

“I’m actually not that nervous today.”

Maybe because it was almost over anyway; she just needed to do well and wasn’t as anxious.

“That’s good—” They reached the school gate. There were professional exams both morning and afternoon, not many people waiting, and it was about time. Zhou Haoying put a hand on her shoulder, “Good luck, just be yourself. I can’t get in today, so I’ll wait for you outside.”

Chu Zhixia said, “But I don’t know how late the interview will last.”

Interviews were quite long, at least 25 minutes per person, and unlike the professional test, to prevent cheating there was a completely different set of teachers with more people. One academy usually had a batch of teachers conducting MFA and MA interviews simultaneously.

“No problem, I’ll find a coffee shop to wait for you. It’ll probably be around five o’clock at the latest. Did you bring chocolate?” Chu Zhixia was dieting and brought a small piece of dark chocolate to prevent low blood sugar. Zhou Haoying guessed this and pulled out lemon candies, gum, and a few Ferrero chocolates he had prepared in his pocket, handing them to her piece by piece.

Rarely serious, Zhou Haoying reminded her, “Bring your jacket, just in case.”

“Thanks, senior.”

They spoke at the school gate, while parents and candidates sending off others kept glancing over.

“I’ll go in now. After the exam, I’ll treat you to a big meal.”

Zhou Haoying nodded, and as she was about to enter, he reached out and gently hugged her—a gesture just like many years ago when they took the Beijing art exam together.

He patted her back, “Good luck, give me a hug when you come out.”

“Got it.”

Once inside the waiting room, Chu Zhixia understood what real pressure meant.

Although she was not nervous today and had slept well, entering this environment still felt cruel.

All majors had to be interviewed; unlike yesterday, there were no written tests. So all candidates were divided into 2-3 large classrooms, and Chu Zhixia’s was probably the largest lecture hall.

All professional candidates had to sit together—in other words, everyone next to you was your competitor… your enemy.

Because of this, the 100-person lecture hall was utterly silent, with no chatting or whispering.

For fairness, after all professionals signed in, proctor teachers conducted a unified drawing of lots.

Chu Zhixia opened her paper—it was number 8.

Not a very good draw.

There were nine people total. Usually number 1 was best—memorable and teachers were more patient and energetic. Number 2 was also good, still early and pleasant. But the later it got, the more tired teachers became. The last person could still do well because it was close to finishing and memorable.

Being late but not last wasn’t advantageous; it meant repeated comparisons and impatience.

Her heart sank further.

But the draw was done and there was no other choice. Chu Zhixia looked out at the blue sky—it had cleared a bit today—and sighed softly.

Candidates could bring some paper materials into the waiting room, but most didn’t look at them. Chu Zhixia pushed her materials aside and rested her head on the table, closing her eyes to relax.

No one knew how long she would wait.

The afternoon sunshine grew warmer, shining on her neck.

Just as she was dozing off, someone called her, “Hey.”