2016 National College Entrance Exam (Gaokao)
Candidate Score:
Chinese: 117
Math: 140
Science Comprehensive: 274
English: 136
Total: 667
"Did you check it?" Zhao Mingdong stepped into the room from outside. Though he tried to stay composed, his trembling voice betrayed how rattled he really was. The Gaokao score portal rarely opens exactly at midnight, so father and son had split up—one checking by phone, the other on computer.
Zhao Xuan was too overwhelmed to speak. Landing a spot among life's great joys—achieving top exam results—was already huge. Then getting hit with a System that promised millions a year? That was off the charts. And according to the System, this was just scratching the surface of its power.
Zhao Mingdong read the scores over and over, then gave his son a firm pat on the shoulder and a big hug.
They didn't have the provincial ranking yet, but in Liaodong Province, a 667 basically meant free choice of any university except the country's absolute top two.
Hours earlier, Zhao Guyu had claimed she was too tired to stay up and retreated to the bedroom. Hearing the commotion, she rushed out—obviously she'd just been too nervous to face the score reveal, not actually asleep.
Zhao Xuan knew his parents had clawed their way out of rural poverty, spending half a lifetime building roots in Lianhai City. He himself hadn't moved from the county town to Lianhai until ninth grade. City life had weighed heavily on their rural-born family.
When he first arrived, he'd faced plenty of exclusion at school. It wasn't until mid–second year of high school that he finally adjusted. He'd never told his parents—didn't want to add to their worries.
His grandparents had passed early. His father had married into his mother's family and faced constant coldness; a few relatively well-off relatives often barked orders at Zhao Mingdong and looked down on Zhao Guyu too.
Luckily, in recent years they only went back home once a year for New Year, and his maternal grandparents had treated Zhao Xuan decently. His parents had never spelled it out, but he understood how much they hoped for him.
Now, with this score, the family was riding a wave of relief and excitement.
Zhao Xuan couldn't even remember falling asleep—just recalled his father's phone ringing nonstop, sounding more confident than Zhao Xuan had ever heard him.
When he woke, the sun was already high.
After washing up, he opened the class QQ group and saw tons of @mentions. The double whammy of joy yesterday had made him forget to post his result. Although he wasn't close to most classmates, homeroom teacher Lu Wenyin had always been fair to him. Despite pressure from other parents that kept Zhao Xuan stuck near the back corner, Lu always stepped in when he was bullied.
Now, including Lu, everyone was waiting for his score.
Zhao Xuan: Sorry, fell asleep last night. I got 667.
Lu Wenyin: Amazing! Knew you'd ace it. [flowers][flowers][flowers]
Zhou Tong: Hey, same score as Goddess Chu Jun @Wan Chu Jun
Wan Chu Jun: Congrats @Zhao Xuan
Zhao Xuan smiled. Wan Chu Jun was the class beauty—a little sassy, but undeniably stunning. At 165 cm with perfectly proportioned curves and carefully styled shoulder-length black hair, she'd captured every guy's attention. Her father, Wan Songling, was chairman of Songling Investment, reportedly worth hundreds of millions.
Another girl, Bai Lvdi, was equally gorgeous but far behind academically. If anyone could rival Wan in looks, maybe only their voluptuous 170 cm homeroom teacher, Lu Wenyin.
Zhao Xuan tossed aside his old, yellowing smartphone—his companion for three years—and thought of the System.
"No more of this life."
Grabbing his ID, he headed out and opened a bank account at the ICBC branch on the street. Then he gave the System a command:
"Transfer six million."
The next few minutes felt like days.
Your account ending in 3631 received ¥4,800,000.00 on June 23, 13:04. Balance: ¥4,800,100.00.
Stunned for a few seconds, Zhao Xuan realized a direct public-to-private transfer probably triggered income tax…
[Current method only option. Low-tax mode unlockable later.] System chimed in promptly.
"…"
Still, ¥4.8 million was mind-blowing. Enough for a villa plus a car.
Fighting excitement, Zhao Xuan's first move was upgrading to an iPhone 6s—just to prove the money was real. Standing outside the Apple Store clutching his new phone, his hands still shook.
Finding a mall with WiFi, he installed his usual apps and reopened the QQ group. The smooth performance felt amazing compared to the ancient phone that took over ten seconds just to load the group.
In the group, a few classmates were planning a class reunion in three days.
Xia Siheng: You coming, Zhao Xuan? @Zhao Xuan
(Xia was one of the few decent to him.)
Cao Shudong: When does he ever join stuff? He thinks he's too good for us. Don't bother asking. Chu Jun, you're free, right? @Wan Chu Jun
Wan Chu Jun: I can make it.
Bai Lvdi: Zhao Xuan and our Miss Wan got the same score. Maybe apply to the same uni?
Zhao Xuan clenched his teeth. He usually skipped events like this—couldn't stand the snide remarks. Cao Shudong was the main instigator; no surprise there. But Bai Lvdi throwing shade was unexpected.
Everyone knew Cao liked Wan. His dad was high-up at Songling Investment, hoping his son could climb that ladder. Without Wan, Cao wouldn't have bothered with the Gaokao.
Bai's comment was clearly bait to redirect Cao's hostility toward Zhao Xuan. Before, Zhao might've ignored it. Now, he wasn't afraid of Cao.
Zhao Xuan: I'm applying to Jiangcheng University. Count me in for the reunion.
Cao Shudong: Jiangcheng? Cost of living's sky-high there. Need the class to chip in for you? Hahaha!
"Yup, just as expected. But why's Bai targeting me?" Zhao shook his head. Cao's jealousy flared because Wan had mentioned earlier she'd also apply to Jiangcheng—Cao's score (580-something) made that impossible.
Zhao only just saw Wan's morning message in the chat history. Before the exam, he'd assumed she'd study abroad.
Under Cao's comment, his lackeys spammed memes. Truth was, even without the System, Zhao's family could afford Jiangcheng University—Cao was just trying to humiliate him.
Cao didn't fear upsetting Wan. Back in freshman year, Zhao had been the wide-eyed country kid who'd clashed with her a few times. With Wan's vengeful streak, their relationship was icy. Her looking down on Zhao had only deepened when his grades kept pace with hers.
Zhao was about to fire back when Lu Wenyin stepped in:
Lu Wenyin: That's enough. This is our last class gathering. Zhao Xuan should come. Cao Shudong, watch your tone.
With that, Zhao dropped the phone and wandered aimlessly. He needed an explanation for his parents—sudden wealth was impossible to hide, and there was no reason to.
Without noticing, he drifted to a row of luxury watch stores. An idea struck. Those brands were just names he'd heard from richer classmates; before, they'd only lived in his imagination. Now nothing seemed out of reach.
Even with an annual "income" of ¥3 million and nearly ¥5 million in the bank, dropping hundreds of thousands on a watch still stung. For the first time, Zhao craved a System upgrade fiercely.
By dinner, he walked out wearing a black Panerai 10-Day GMT on his wrist, plus a second with a brown strap. He'd seen the model in magazines and loved it, but before, it was just eye candy.
It wasn't Patek Philippe or Vacheron Constantin tier, but ¥130,000 for one watch—and buying two—meant most salespeople gave him curious glances. Few teens bought such pieces alone.
"Actually… this doesn't feel bad." Zhao, who normally hated attention, felt oddly comfortable.
"Is this what it feels like to be rich…" He exhaled, checked the darkening sky, and texted his dad: Out eating with classmates.
He'd never told his parents about school troubles. Luckily, in three years of high school, there'd only been four parent meetings—all attended by his dad, who wasn't great at socializing anyway.