Chapter 12: College Entrance Exam
Fu Xiaoya's voice sliced through the haze of my thoughts, pulling me to the door like a magnet. She stood there, a vision of defiance in her leather jacket and pants, oversized hoop earrings glinting like battle trophies. "Jie!" I greeted, a smile breaking through my exhaustion.
Her face remained a mask of ice. Without a word, she yanked a slim, elegant box from her bag and tossed it at my chest, hard enough to sting. "Get a good score. Or get ready for a beating."
Her glare was a blade, sharp and unyielding. Then she spun on her heel, the door slamming behind her, her heels clacking like gunfire as she stormed away.
"Xiaoya!" Xu Li's voice cracked with desperation, her eyes darting to the box in my hands, venom flickering in her gaze.
I opened it slowly, my fingers trembling. A Hero fountain pen, sleek and pristine, worth hundreds of yuan. She'd come all this way… for this? The word "Hero" gleamed under the light, a spark that ignited something fierce in my chest. Courage. Hope. I swore I'd wield this pen to write my future, to carve my escape from this suffocating life.
For a moment, Xu Li ceased to exist. Until her long, theatrical sigh dragged me back to reality. She hated this—hated Fu Xiaoya's care for me. And that hatred turned her gaze into daggers aimed at my heart.
"Get some rest," she said, her smile as false as her concern. "Don't forget to set your alarm. You can't be late tomorrow."
I nodded, clutching the pen like a lifeline, and retreated upstairs, her presence lingering like poison in the air.
---
In my room, I filled the pen with ink, testing it on a scrap of paper. Line after line, "Fu Xiaoya" bloomed in smooth, elegant strokes, each letter a quiet rebellion. Then I tore the paper to shreds, tossing it into the trash. I placed the pen by my pillow, running my fingers over its cool surface, and drifted into sleep with a strange, quiet joy warming my chest.
---
The alarm ripped me from dreams. I dressed, packed my bag, and headed downstairs. Xu Li had prepared a lavish breakfast—a steaming bowl of eight-treasure porridge glistening like pearls, surrounded by dishes too perfect for an ordinary morning. "Xiao Yan, I woke at three to make this for you. Drink it all," she said, her smile syrupy sweet. She wore a red cheongsam, the high slit revealing flashes of flawless leg.
"Thanks," I muttered, dropping my gaze. I ate fast, gulping the porridge in big mouthfuls. It was sweet, glutinous—but bitter at the edges, a faint off-note I couldn't place. Her eyes pinned me like a predator's, so I forced it down, every last drop. I wiped my mouth, grabbed my bag, and fled.
---
The exam hall was a battlefield, and I arrived on time, armed with Fu Xiaoya's pen. The bell rang, and I dove into the paper, my focus razor-sharp, answers flowing like a river. The pen danced, each stroke a step toward freedom.
Then—a rumble in my gut. Sharp cramps twisted my insides, a knife of pain that stole my breath. I clenched my jaw, pushed on, but the agony sharpened, waves of torment crashing through me. Heat and dread surged—diarrhea, coming fast and relentless.
"Teacher… restroom," I croaked, hand raised, my face gray with pain.
Snickers erupted around me, disgusted glances cutting through the haze. The invigilator, a stern woman, took one look at my pallor and nodded. Two proctors escorted me to the public toilet, their steps clipped with impatience.
What followed was a flood, my body emptying itself like a broken dam. I staggered out, dizzy, hollowed out, legs trembling like reeds in a storm. I dragged myself back to my seat, teeth gritted, only to feel another surge minutes later. I begged to go again, the teachers' unease palpable now. They called the on-site doctor.
After the second round, he examined me, his brow furrowed. "Have you been constipated recently?"
"What? No! I'm having diarrhea!" I rasped, my voice thin with panic.
His frown deepened. "This looks like a strong purgative—croton seed powder, maybe. It's dangerous. Can damage your gut."
My brain froze. Why the hell would I take laxatives on the most important day of my life? Then it hit me—the porridge. That faint bitterness. Xu Li's eyes, watching me swallow every drop. My heart crashed, a sickening realization settling in my bones.
She'd struck. Vicious. Wolfish. Worse than any beast. She didn't just want to ruin me—she wanted me "destroyed".
"All you can do now is get IV fluids," the doctor said gently.
"No." My voice cracked, raw with defiance. "I'm finishing the exam."
Tears blurred the paper as I staggered back to my seat. The doctor slipped me an anti-diarrheal, whispering, "After the test—hospital. Severe dehydration can kill." I popped the pill, sat down, and fought to focus. Failed. Made one last desperate run to the toilet, precious minutes bleeding away.
By the end, I hadn't even finished the essay. A high score? Impossible. A top-tier university? Gone. "Pingchuan University," I whispered to myself, clinging to a fragile hope. Its cutoff wasn't high. Maybe… that's where Yu Qingman would be. A dying prayer to comfort my breaking heart.
---
With barely any cash, I avoided home, terrified of Xu Li's next move. I found a dingy clinic, hooked up to an IV drip as the flood finally stopped. She hadn't given me a lethal dose—too smart for that. Just enough to wreck me, leaving no proof. Brilliant. Evil.
Stomach still in knots, I choked down a steamed bun for lunch and dragged myself to the afternoon exam. I finished it, somehow, legs trembling but a faint smile curling my lips. I'd survived. Xu Li couldn't break me. Not today.
---
I ate dinner alone, sipping bottled water, then crept home under the cover of dusk. Xu Li greeted me with a soft smile, her voice honeyed. "How'd it go?"
"How'd it go?" I didn't even finish the damn essay. My voice turned to ice. "Did you put something in that porridge?"
Her face snapped like a whip, her palm slamming the coffee table. "What nonsense are you spouting? Why would I poison you? Got proof?"
Of course I didn't. She'd scrubbed that bowl spotless, erased every trace. "I nearly died in that exam hall!" I roared, my voice shaking with rage.
"Oh, so now everything's my fault?" Her laugh was sharp, bitter. Then, in a flash, she slapped her own cheeks—twice, hard—tears welling in her eyes. "I'm such a fool," she wailed. "Years of raising a white-eyed wolf. Give and give—and get nothing back. Women—never marry a widower. Being a stepmother is hell."
Her sobs were poison, her performance Oscar-worthy. Then her face hardened, steel beneath the tears. "Don't expect me to cook for you again. If your dad's unhappy, let him divorce me. I've had enough."
I stared, silent, my hatred burning white-hot. Her eyes blazed with scorn. "And stay the hell away from my daughter. A loser like you isn't worthy."
"I'm not! She's my sister!" I snapped, my voice cracking under the weight of her accusation.
"Sister?" Her laugh was venom, a curse spat into the air. "Heaven sees everything. Careful, or lightning will strike you dead."
She stormed into her room, the door slamming like a guillotine. My hatred wasn't anger anymore—it was blood-deep, murderous, a fire that begged for a knife. But tomorrow was another exam. I couldn't crack. Not yet. I forced the rage down, lay in bed, and drifted into dark, restless dreams.
---
Morning came, cold and empty. No breakfast on the table. No surprise. I didn't care. Outside, I sucked in a shaky breath, the air tasting of freedom. Xu Li couldn't touch me out here. I glanced back at the house, catching a face slipping behind the curtain. A cold shiver crawled up my spine.
"Honk! Honk!" A plain black sedan rolled up, a red sign plastered to the windshield: "Free Rides for Exam Students." The driver, middle-aged with a kind smile, leaned out. "Heading to the exam? Free ride for scholars today. Hop in."
I hesitated, my instincts screaming. Something felt… off. But the clock was ticking, and I had no cash for a cab. I opened the back door and slid inside.
The moment the door clicked shut, my gut twisted. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.