高考

Hey everyone! Welcome to a new episode of Simply Natural Chinese! I'm Tian Tian!

Hey everyone, I'm A-Jie.

A-Jie, you know what? In just a few days it's the gaokao.

Yeah, June 7th and 8th — it's those same two days every year.

Today I walked past a high school, and there was a huge banner over the gate that said "Go for it, win the gaokao!"

Haha, that scene is so familiar — you see it every June.

The moment I saw that banner, I suddenly got nervous inside.

You're not even taking it — what are you nervous about?

Because it reminded me of my own gaokao!

Fair enough — you're only a sophomore, so the gaokao is still pretty recent for you.

Yeah, it feels like yesterday. That feeling, you never forget it your whole life.

It's different for me — my gaokao was several years ago already.

Do you still remember it clearly?

How could I forget? Some things, even after a long time, you remember crystal clear.

Then let's talk about the gaokao today!

Good idea. For a lot of our foreign friends, China's gaokao might be a pretty mysterious thing.

Right, they may have heard of it, but don't really know what it's actually like.

Then let's explain it properly. In short, the gaokao is China's college entrance exam.

Every year over ten million people take it at the same time — isn't that wild?

Totally wild. You could say it's the single most important exam in China.

Speaking of the gaokao, what I remember most isn't the two exam days — it's that whole final year of high school.

Senior year — that really was a whole other world.

In my senior year, I got up at 6:30 every day and didn't sleep until 11 at night.

Same here — every day there were endless practice papers.

Yes! The practice papers! Even now, seeing one still scares me.

Haha, back then we called it "shuati" — grinding through problem sets one after another.

"Shuati" means doing problems nonstop — tons and tons of them.

Exactly, the books piled on your desk were taller than you.

In my class some people would stack up their books to hide their face, so the teacher couldn't see them sleeping.

Hahaha, people in my class used that trick too.

And then there were all kinds of exams — the "yimo," the "ermo"...

Right, "yimo" is the first mock exam, "ermo" is the second.

A mock exam is like a pretend gaokao, a chance to practice ahead of time.

After each mock exam, the teachers would rank everyone and post it on the wall.

That ranking list — you both wanted to look and were afraid to look.

I get it — do well and you're happy all day; do badly and you're down for a whole week.

At the front of our classroom there was even a gaokao countdown sign.

Yes! A countdown, ticking off how many days were left — just looking at it was so stressful.

The pressure was so intense — I even lost a few pounds back then.

I actually gained weight — whenever I got nervous, I wanted to eat.

Haha, so you're that kind of person!

Yeah, studying late at night, I always had to have some snacks on the desk.

But looking back now, that feeling of giving it everything — it actually seems kind of precious.

Right, maybe just once in your life do you work that hard.

Back then my parents were nervous too — even more nervous than me.

Parents are all like that — they tell you not to stress, but then they can't sleep themselves.

My mom made me soup every day, saying it would "feed my brain."

Haha, my mom too — fish every single day, saying eating fish makes you smart.

The result is, now I'm scared whenever I see that kind of soup.

The teachers worked hard too — our senior-year homeroom teacher practically lived at school.

Yeah, our homeroom teacher even came in on weekends to teach us.

That kind of support — thinking back on it now, it's really touching.

So let's talk about those two exam days.

Sure — I still remember those two days to this day.

The night before the exam, I was so nervous I couldn't sleep.

Me too — the more I tried to sleep, the more I couldn't.

The next morning, my mom deliberately wore a red qipao — a traditional fitted Chinese dress.

Haha, I know why!

Why? Go on, tell me.

Because the "qi" in qipao sounds like the "qi" in "qikaideshen" — winning right from the start.

Yes, yes, yes! "Qikaideshen" means succeeding, winning, right from the get-go.

Lots of moms do this — for a good "caitou," a lucky sign.

A "caitou" means asking for a bit of good luck, right?

Exactly. Some people wear red on exam day on purpose — red is lucky and festive.

At my house, we even had zongzi — sticky rice dumplings — for breakfast that day.

Haha, zongzi! I've eaten that one too.

Because "zong" sounds like "zhong" — as in passing, hitting the mark.

Chinese people love this kind of "xieyin," a play on similar-sounding words, for good luck.

Back then I really felt these little things gave me a bit of confidence.

It's just psychological, but hey, if it works, it works.

At the entrance to the exam site, tons of parents were waiting outside.

That's "songkao" — parents seeing their kids off to the exam site.

The scene was so lively — the entrance was packed with people.

Some parents even held up signs and shouted "you can do it!"

Before going in, you have to double-check your "zhunkaozheng" — your exam admission ticket.

Right, forget your admission ticket and you're in big trouble.

Every year someone forgets it, and the police give them a ride home to grab it.

Haha, there's news like that every single year.

Once I got into the room and sat down, I actually felt less nervous.

Right, once it actually starts, your heart settles down.

For my first subject, Chinese, the essay topic was pretty hard.

The Chinese essay is the easiest to panic over — and it's worth a lot of points.

My mind went totally blank — I thought for several minutes before I could start writing.

I know that feeling — you can't even hold the pen steady.

But as I kept writing it started to flow, and in the end I even wrote an extra paragraph.

That means you were in great form that day — you "chaochangfahui," you outdid yourself.

"Chaochangfahui" means doing even better than usual, right?

Right, scoring higher than your usual mock-exam results — that's "chaochangfahui."

And what about doing worse than usual?

That's called "fahuishichang" — a lot of people just get too nervous and underperform.

Ugh, underperforming is really such a shame.

That's why mindset matters so much — sometimes even more than ability.

I remember a classmate of mine whose grades were usually just so-so.

And then?

But in the gaokao they landed in the school's top few — it shocked everyone.

Haha, that's the legendary "heima," the dark horse.

A "heima"! The kind nobody saw coming who suddenly turns out amazing.

Right, every year's gaokao produces a few dark horses.

After it's over, the most nerve-wracking part is waiting for the results.

Right, that stretch is really hard to get through — you can't do anything.

After each subject, we'd also "gufen" — estimate our scores.

"Gufen" means working out roughly how many points you probably got.

Yeah, but estimating just made me feel even less sure.

Haha, with estimating, guess too high or too low and either way it stings.

Then came results day — "chafen" — and my hands were shaking the whole time.

"Chafen" means looking up your own gaokao score.

That day the results website just crashed — way too many people checking at once.

It's like this every year — the second results open, the system jams.

I waited a whole hour to get in — my heart was about to jump out of my chest.

In that moment, it's truly "some celebrate, some grieve" — joy for some families, sorrow for others.

Luckily I did pretty well — a bit higher than what I'd estimated.

That's great! After checking your score, the next step is "baozhiyuan."

"Baozhiyuan" means choosing the universities and majors you want to apply to.

Right, and this step is actually more agonizing than the exam itself.

For real! I agonized over it for days.

Pick a good school, or pick a good major — that's the big question.

My dad said pick the school, my mom said pick the major — they even got into an argument.

Haha, that's a debate every family has.

So how did you choose back then?

To get to Shanghai, I compromised a little on the major.

So you picked the city first?

Yeah, I wanted to experience a big city, so I applied to schools in Shanghai.

Looking back now, how was that choice?

Pretty great — I love Shanghai, and I ended up staying to work here.

When you apply, you also have to pay attention to "yiben," "erben," and so on.

Right, "yiben" are the first-tier universities with higher score cutoffs.

And "erben" are the ones with slightly lower cutoffs, right?

You can think of it that way, though a lot of places don't split it like that anymore.

True, the rules change every year.

Once you've submitted your choices, all you can do is wait to be admitted.

Those days waiting for the "luqutongzhishu," the admission letter, I checked my phone constantly.

The moment the admission letter arrives, the big weight finally lifts off your chest.

When I got my letter, I was so excited I jumped up.

Haha, that kind of happiness really comes straight from the heart.

A-Jie, I want to ask you something.

Go ahead.

Do you think the gaokao really "yikaodingzhongshen" — decides your whole life in one exam?