After Chu Xia sent a letter to Cen Zhengnian, she prepared to visit the high school near Textile Factory No. 3 to inquire about transferring as a new student.

Chu Xia technically had a high school diploma already; it was just that she would be repeating her studies, but the high school might not accept her.

The job in the factory’s publicity department wasn’t busy.

Once Chu Xia joined, she faced no workplace difficulties.

Her first task was to help new employees get familiar with the factory and explain the rules and regulations.

It was an easy job, and she only had to guide two newcomers; other newcomers had different guides.

After a tour of the factory, she brought them to the publicity department head’s office, where he would speak to the new employees.

After that, her workday was over, and Chu Xia found it astonishing how free she was.

Since she wasn’t aiming for a promotion, she used her free time to review high school textbooks.

She had been preparing for factory exams and hadn’t finished her first-year high school books yet.

However, she was getting close to finishing; the science content was just review for her since she had studied it before for college entrance exams.

She continued to study and practice, making progress.

What Chu Xia didn’t know was that on the day she started at the publicity department, Factory Director Zhang made a phone call.

He spoke casually, saying, “She’s in.”

When the person on the other end said something, Zhang laughed and replied, “No, she got in on her own with the top scores. We just provided the opportunity.”

The person on the other end likely thanked him, and Zhang feigned anger, saying, “Old leader, if you keep saying that, I’ll be angry! You’ve helped me so much and even saved my life. This little thing is nothing!”

Textile Factory No. 3’s area has three well-known high schools:

No. 6, No. 9, and No. 13, along with several lesser-known ones. Liangzhou, being the provincial capital, has much better educational resources compared to smaller cities and counties.

Chu Xia had attended No. 6 High School, which was better than No. 13 but not as good as No. 9. It was also the closest high school to Textile Factory No. 3. So, Chu Xia’s first choice was this school.

However, when she inquired about transferring, the head of the academic office looked at her diploma and immediately refused. “Your graduation was too long ago; we only accept repeat students from the past two years.”

Chu Xia understood the head’s point.

During the original owner’s school years, few students attended classes properly, and graduation requirements were minimal.

With so many years having passed, accepting her could lower the school’s college entrance exam success rate, which was understandable from the principal’s perspective.

But Chu Xia wasn’t going to give up easily. She immediately said, “I can take the transfer exam. If I don’t pass, I’ll leave on my own! Director, I really want to go to school. Back then, there were no universities to apply for, and I went straight to work after graduation. When college entrance exams resumed, I had a young child and missed the opportunity. Now I understand the importance of knowledge and deeply regret it. I really want a chance to take the college entrance exam, and I will put in all my effort to study!”

Chu Xia wanted to transfer into the second year of high school.

Since high school was now a two-year program, completing it would allow her to apply to colleges.

If she wanted to continue studying medicine in the future, even if it was traditional Chinese medicine, she needed a proper educational background.

Without it, she couldn’t practice medicine legally, as she wouldn’t have the necessary certification.

Unlike in later years when there were unified exams for certification, in the past, certification was obtained after graduation and working for a certain period in a hospital.

Traditional Chinese medicine also had another way of getting certification—through mentorship.

In her past life, Chu Xia’s grandfather obtained his medical certification this way and became a well-known traditional Chinese doctor over time.

The director frowned, looking troubled.

He liked ambitious students, but rules were rules, and he really couldn’t accept her.

However, he liked Chuxia’s attitude and handed her the diploma, saying, “If you had come a few days earlier, you could have taken the transfer exam at our school. But now it’s too late. However, the transfer exams at No. 9 High School haven’t started yet; you can go ask them.”

The transfer exams at No. 9 High School had not yet concluded, so Chuxia was not completely out of options.

It was her own oversight, thinking that school wouldn’t start so early since it wasn’t September yet.

But she had forgotten that second-year students often started earlier than other grades.

Fortunately, there were other schools.

She planned to ask around one by one, hoping to find one that would accept her.

Chuxia had taken a day off from work and still had time to visit other schools, so she took the bus to No. 9 High School.

No. 9 High School was relatively farther from the Textile Factory No. 3, taking about half an hour by bus, while No. 6 High School was just a ten-minute ride away.

Compared to No. 6 High School, No. 9 High School was a bit more relaxed in terms of management, and the second year had just started.

The security guard let her in when he heard she was inquiring about the transfer exam and directed her to the right place.

“Are you here to take the transfer exam?” The director of the academic office at No. 9 High School adjusted his glasses, looked at Chuxia’s high school diploma, then at her face, clearly puzzled. “You have a decent job; why would you want to take the university entrance exams? University admissions are so difficult nowadays. Those students sleep later than dogs and get up earlier than roosters, and eating is like fighting a battle. Even those who get admitted are assigned to work units. This seems like an exercise in futility!”

Chuxia said earnestly, “It’s not futile. I want to improve myself and learn more knowledge. I don’t like the repetitive work in the factory; I want to study what I truly enjoy and see what university life is like!”

The director’s eyes widened, and he slapped the table excitedly, “Well said! Your ambition at such a young age is impressive! It’s rare to see someone your age so motivated. I’ll give you this opportunity!”

Chuxia didn’t expect to get the chance to take the transfer exam so easily.

“However, you still need to pass the transfer exam, and your score must meet or exceed the lowest admission score for universities this year, otherwise, I can’t accept you.”

Chuxia sighed with relief and smiled, “I understand. I’ll study hard at home.”

From the director, Chuxia learned that the lowest admission score for science majors in the province this year was 390, and the transfer exam score couldn’t be lower than this threshold.

Moreover, even if she passed the transfer exam, if she failed the provincial pre-exam before the college entrance exams next May, she wouldn’t be allowed to take the college entrance exams.

The pre-exam was a new measure implemented this year.

Chuxia hadn’t heard of it in her previous life, and she wouldn’t have known if the director hadn’t mentioned it.

Back then, she just registered and went directly to the exam hall.

The transfer exam at No. 9 High School was on September 5th, which left her with only half a month to prepare.

Chuxia dared not relax and focused on studying.

She was most confident in English; during her previous medical studies, she had mastered it almost as well as her native language, translating foreign literature and publishing papers on her own.

Chinese involved memorizing literary knowledge, understanding words, and classical Chinese.

Math, physics, chemistry, and biology required solving problems and familiarizing herself with current high school exam questions.

Politics, a subject for both liberal arts and science students, was not only unrelated to the knowledge she remembered but also the hardest to memorize.

Every morning, Chuxia reviewed Chinese and politics, then divided the rest of the day to study math, physics, chemistry, and biology.

In the evening, she did exercises and read a few pages of her English books.

The English books were the first she finished; they were easy, comparable to middle school English in the modern era.

She was most pleased to find that Cen Zhengnian’s book box contained some of the questions he had done, though not many, they were enough to help her understand the types of questions she might face now.

Chuxia had only told Cen Zhengnian about her plans to take the exams.

Cen Huai’an found out on his own.

In the evenings, Chu Xia and Cen Huai’an always studied together.

Cen Huai’an was puzzled.

Didn’t his mother pass the exams already? What was she studying now?

He couldn’t help but ask.

None of the other adults in the family compound were like his mother, who read books every day.

He didn’t understand why, but he liked having such a mom.

“It’s because I’m preparing for university to set a good example for you. Also, learning never ends; we should keep learning as long as we live,” Chu Xia explained.

For Cen Huai’an, university seemed very far off, especially since he hadn’t even started elementary school yet.

“Is university really nice?” he asked.

Chu Xia shook her head and said, “I don’t know for sure, but I think it’s great, or else so many people wouldn’t want to go. Your dad is a university graduate.”

Indeed, Cen Zhengnian was a university student.

He was a worker-peasant-soldier student, nominated from the military.

Chu Xia didn’t know the exact nomination process, but she knew Cen Zhengnian was different from ordinary worker-peasant-soldier students.

He had real talent and was assigned to a research project in the northwest during his time at university.

Whenever Cen Zhengnian was mentioned, Cen Huai’an would go quiet, but Chu Xia could see his curiosity about university.

Changing the subject, Chu Xia smiled and ruffled Cen Huai’an’s hair. “But we won’t rely on him. There are universities in Liangzhou. After I finish my exams, I’ll take you to visit one.”

Cen Huai’an’s eyes lit up again.

He wrote in his little notebook: “Today Mom promised to take me to the university.”

He still couldn’t write many words and used pinyin as a substitute.

Chu Xia had taught Cen Huai’an all the pinyin, and he learned quickly, now being able to spell words on his own.

She bought a Xinhua Dictionary and Xinhua Thesaurus, teaching him how to use them so he could read books independently.

Cen Zhengnian’s elementary school textbooks were from 1958 and included pinyin.

Pinyin wasn’t easy for young children to learn; Chu Xia remembered that in first grade, she spent the whole year learning it.

Some kids didn’t master pinyin even by graduation.

However, Cen Huai’an learned it after just one round of teaching, making Chu Xia wonder if pinyin had become easier.

Later, she asked Sister Li about her children.

Her eldest daughter, in fourth grade, still struggled with some pinyin, and her eldest son, in first grade, was learning very slowly.

It wasn’t that the knowledge was hard; it was just that pinyin wasn’t difficult for Cen Huai’an.

This also made things easier for Chu Xia.

She no longer needed to teach him letter by letter.

She set a rule for him to learn two pages of new words from his textbook each day.

He could look them up in the dictionary and ask Chu Xia about any words he couldn’t understand.

Most of the time, he asked about word meanings, and he could usually find the new words in the dictionary himself.