The Decision
"Let others sleep through history — I'll be waiting at the door with a pen."
---
The morning was peaceful, the kind that made even pigeons sound poetic.
Jia Lan, wrapped in soft cream cotton, stood beneath the half-bloomed camellia bush in the courtyard, pruning yellowing leaves with precise, graceful fingers. From a distance, she looked like a painting.
On the inside?
> Full internal crisis mode.
Do I start with math? No — I'll cry.
Maybe Chinese essays. At least I can complain with style.
Wait, do I even remember fractions? What if I confuse them with pastry sizes again?
She exhaled slowly, calming herself with the aroma of dew and breakfast oil from the kitchen.
> Focus. Next year, the gates will open. The Gaokao will return. The entire nation will go into academic combustion — textbooks will vanish, ink will be rationed, and every family will throw their kids at the exam hall doors like it's war.
But not me. I'll be sipping tea and already halfway through the syllabus.
---
Inside, breakfast was its usual chaos.
Xu Li was wrestling with the teapot. Yao Jing had declared war on overcooked dumplings. Jia Wei was holding his bun like it was a rare artifact.
Jia Lan entered like a drifting cloud. She sat with all the elegance of a porcelain doll in a museum.
"Ah, the fairy of the household graces us," Jia Wei announced, handing her chopsticks like he was officiating a wedding. "Please accept this humble rice bun, Your Highness."
"Careful," Xu Li muttered. "If she rolls her eyes too hard, she might levitate."
Yao Jing nodded sagely. "That's true. Jia Lan's sarcasm has a weightless quality."
"I'm honored by your foolish devotion," Jia Lan said, blinking slowly.
> Why do I even speak here? This is a circus. I am the tragic clown with homework plans.
"Where were you this morning?" Xu Li asked. "Plotting? Whispering to the vegetables?"
"Trimming camellias," Jia Lan replied. "They listen better than you do."
Jia Lan sipped her tea like royalty preparing for war.
> Okay. Subtle hint time. Let's see if anyone here has a brain cell not clogged with gossip or sesame oil.
"I've been thinking," she said lightly, setting down her cup, "If the country reintroduces university exams, it'll need bright minds to build the future. Maybe that time is coming again."
Silence.
Yao Jing blinked. "Wait, what?"
"You're talking about… school?" Jia Wei asked, frowning. "The kind with textbooks? Homework?"
"She's been possessed," Xu Li said seriously. "Do we know any monks?"
"I'm perfectly fine," Jia Lan replied sweetly. "Just reflecting on the future."
> They really think I've gone mad. Excellent. Mission: Chaos – accomplished.
See?" Yao Jing said. "She's already too clever. If she goes to university, we'll be left behind, IQ-wise."
"Speak for yourself," Jia Wei muttered. "I once scored 98 on a math quiz."
"When?" Xu Li scoffed. "In your dreams?"
"It was on the wrapper of my milk candy. Still counts."
Yao Jing leaned forward dramatically. "What if you get recruited by some elite school and leave the rest of us in the dust?"
"I'd send you all postcards from my ivory tower," Jia Lan replied, sipping with poise.
"Oh! I'll save those and tell people, 'I knew her when she ate sweet buns with her hands!'" Yao Jing clutched her heart.
"I still do eat buns with my hands," Jia Lan murmured.
"Yes, but delicately," Jia Wei added. "Like they'll turn to mist if touched too roughly."
---
Later, safely back in her room, Jia Lan pulled out a fresh page of creamy paper and dipped her pen in ink.
She titled it with a flourish:
Operation: Graceful Academic Domination
Study in silence
Collect books "casually"
Start slow: Essays first, then math (cry later)
Smile while plotting
> I am vengeance. I am determination. I am that girl who once failed basic algebra and cried into a $3 instant noodle cup.
Never again.
A memory floated up: her past self, sitting in a crowded city testing hall, the summer heat melting her confidence while the exam paper stared back with cruel indifference. She had circled the same multiple-choice question three times before realizing she didn't even know what subject it belonged to.
> I wrote "C" because I liked the shape.
That was my logic. And I paid for it. With my dignity.
Not this time.
Jia Lan looked over her to-do list and nodded with satisfaction. A plan, a purpose, a future.
Then her stomach growled—loudly.
> So much for looking mysterious and intelligent.
From outside, Jia Wei shouted, "Scholar fairy! Want another steamed bun or should we offer you ink to drink?"
Jia Lan glared at the door. "Tell him to eat his own ink."
> Next time I drop life-altering news, I'll do it mid-chew. That way no one will question my sanity—only my table manners.
She stood, composed, divine.
> Today I study history. Tomorrow I rewrite it—with snacks.
---
She opened her desk drawer, organizing pens, scrap paper, and a small red notebook labeled Ideas to Save My Future. She even added a paperclip. Paperclips meant business.
A familiar chime echoed in her mind:
> Ding!
📝 Daily Check-in Complete
🎁 Reward: 1.5 yuan
🎁 Ink of Focus – Improves study retention. May cause elegant academic ambition.
She placed the small bottle of ink beside her brush holder and lit a stick of sandalwood incense, more for the aesthetic than the effect.
> Let the other girls memorize love songs and matchmaking rumors. I'll be memorizing political theory.
Sexy, right?
Outside, Yao Jing shouted that the dumplings were burnt again. Jia Wei was debating Xu Li over whether watching dramas counted as "rest time." Their mother was humming in the sewing room.
Jia Lan leaned back in her chair, gazing at the ceiling.
> They're not ready. The world's not ready. But I am.
In a few months, when the country announces the exam's return, everyone will panic. But I'll just smile, already ten steps ahead.
And when I pass — not just pass, but shine — I'll do it with perfect handwriting and hair that smells like jasmine.
She rose and looked at herself in the mirror. Her reflection stared back — a girl with refined features, calm grace, and a brain absolutely screaming inside.
> Okay. Step One: ask for old textbooks tomorrow. Smoothly. With zero panic. Totally natural. Like, oh, I just happened to be thinking about reviewing history for fun. Casual nerd goddess behavior.
Let's do this.