Chapter 42 The Exam Begins

The December morning in the capital was bitterly cold, and even heavy winter clothing struggled to completely block the pervasive chill.

The sky was overcast, with bare tree branches swaying in the wind. The air was dry and cold; a single breath filled the lungs with a crisp chill, and the mist exhaled quickly dissolved before the eyes.

The red number "8" on the thermometer silently declared the might of winter.

Li Yifei instinctively tightened the scarf around his neck, burying half of his face into the soft cashmere, leaving only a pair of calm eyes exposed. With steady strides, he walked toward the High School Affiliated to the Normal University—the examination site for the central-level selected civil service examination.

A crowd had already gathered at the entrance, mostly graduates or fresh applicants of around his age.

Some chatted in low voices in small groups, while others clutched study materials, racing against time to memorize them. The air was mixed with a blend of tension, anticipation, and caffeine.

As he crossed the cordon line, a few inquisitive, even slightly scrutinizing gazes briefly fell upon him before quickly looking away.

The reason was not hard to understand: the deep gray cashmere coat he wore, tailored to perfection and exquisite in texture, stood out remarkably among the sea of identical down jackets and windbreakers.

He could imagine those unspoken questions: With such a privileged family background, why bother squeezing through this single-plank bridge? Weren't the rigid rules and restrictions of the bureaucratic system a self-imposed constraint?

Li Yifei paid no mind to these glances and walked straight toward the examination room. To him, such questions were too trivial to warrant a second thought. Everyone had their own path to walk.

His path was deeply rooted in his heart, springing from a profound imprint he regarded as his "past experience." In that experience, he had deeply felt the insignificance and helplessness of the individual, witnessing far too much injustice and infighting.

He had seen how vulnerable wealth was in the face of power, and had heard of talent quietly fading away under invisible pressures. Those silent annihilations and shattered hopes were deeply etched into his memory.

He knew better than anyone else the fragility of wealth and fame in the presence of overwhelming power. At certain moments, a single pen could easily rewrite a destiny. That sense of powerlessness and despair was a void that no amount of superior material living could ever fill.

Precisely because he had experienced complete loss, he understood all the better what was worth safeguarding and changing. To him, regaining the opportunity to study felt more like a heavy responsibility.

He had set three goals for himself. The first: to enter a top-tier institution and rebuild his foundations. This goal had long been achieved. Relying on his past experience and this lifetime's diligence, he had entered Peking University with stellar grades, drinking in knowledge like a thirsty desert and accumulating strength.

The second: to leverage his insight into certain trends to avert or mitigate the impact of a major disaster for the nation. To this end, he had racked his brains and exerted himself to the utmost.

During that year that weighed heavily on his heart, he had poured all his efforts into writing articles, attempting to issue an early warning. When he learned that the country had indeed strengthened its preventive measures because of it, the heavy burden in his heart was finally lifted.

At this moment, standing outside the examination hall of the central selected civil service exam and inhaling the crisp air, he was sprinting with all his might toward his third and most important goal: passing the selection, entering the core of the national governance system, and tangibly doing something beneficial for the people.

"If I fail to realize this third goal, wouldn't I be squandering this lifetime's opportunity?" This thought, carrying a sense of resolute determination, often knocked at his heart.

He was well aware of the complexity of the system, the constraint of its rules, and the strictness of its hierarchy. But he knew even better that it was precisely this system that kept the operation of a massive country running.

It was far from flawless, which made it all the more in need of upright, capable, and responsible individuals to participate in and improve it. "There are always parts of the world that need mending," he murmured to himself. He was willing to become that mender, even if his entire life's effort could only repair a tiny corner.

The direction Li Yifei had set for himself was crystal clear: no matter what position he held in the future, high or low, as long as it was within his capacity, he would give it his all and live up to his conscience.

He had to remain worthy of the land beneath his feet, the education given to him by Peking University, and, above all, the solemn promise in his heart to "serve the country and the people."

He had thought it through long ago: on the road ahead, he would never regret not holding a high position, but he would harbor lifelong remorse if he failed his duties and trust. This awareness was a firm core forged through trials and tribulations.

"Jingle bell—" The preliminary bell rang, shattering the noisy hallway. Candidates filed in one by one to find their seats. Li Yifei's seat was by the window.

He sat down quietly, neatly placing his admission ticket and ID card on the upper right corner of his desk. Outside the window, the sky remained overcast. The classroom was adequately heated, banishing the chill, but it also brought a sense of invisible pressure.

Most candidates sat down only to immediately pick up their study materials again, lips moving silently as they made a last-ditch effort. Those who could sit here were the cream of the crop from various universities, carrying expectations and ambitions. The room was heavy with the scent of printing ink and a tense silence.

Li Yifei's gaze swept calmly over the young, focused, and even anxious faces. His mindset was exceptionally steady, tinged with a hint of scrutiny.

He thought to himself, "Out of this entire room of examinees, how many will ultimately truly enter the ministries and commissions? And how many will go to the provincial and municipal grassroots? Tested by the passage of time and complex environments, how many will still remember today's ambitions and become true public servants serving the people?

And how many will gradually lose their way?" His past observations and the logic of reality told him the answer was often pessimistic. Power was both a crucible and a test.

The invigilators solemnly distributed the test papers. When the exam papers and answer sheets, carrying the fresh scent of ink, landed in Li Yifei's hands, his heartbeat remained steady.

He quickly skimmed the Administrative Aptitude Test questions. The question types were entirely within expectations. Quantitative relations, verbal comprehension, judgment and reasoning, data analysis... These questions, fortified by systematic, high-intensity training and an expanded horizon, were already quite familiar to him.

Especially the general knowledge questions involving the latest policies, current affairs, and technological frontiers were a breeze. The corners of his mouth twitched: victory was secured.

Instead of rushing to write, he steadied himself, taking five minutes to review the entire paper once more and build a clear conceptual map in his mind.

Only then did he pick up a sharpened 2B pencil and steadily fill in the answer sheet. His speed was fast, yet his strokes were extremely firm, and every option was precisely filled in.

For logic questions, the answer emerged clearly as soon as the stem was read; for data questions, complex charts were instantly disassembled, and mental arithmetic was executed with high efficiency. Time seemed to grow obedient under his fluent writing.

The aptitude test concluded, and after a brief midday break came the main event—the Essay Test. Receiving the essay paper, Li Yifei habitually took a deep breath, his eyes quickly scanning the material's theme and prompt requirements.

The material focused on "grassroots governance innovation and the stimulation of social vitality," requiring candidates to analyze problems, propose countermeasures, and write an argumentative essay. "Not difficult," he thought. For him, it could even be described as effortless.

Over the past two years, he had never stopped writing, churning out countless administrative essays. From policy analysis to speeches, from current affairs commentary to theoretical discussions, he had studied a massive volume of policy documents and exemplary essays, insisting on completing at least one high-quality practice piece every week.

He understood deeply the core competencies tested by the essay section: depth of thought, comprehension of national policies, and the ability to solve practical problems. This was precisely the foundation he had deliberately built through training. His administrative writing level was already sufficient to rival seasoned veterans within government organs.

Comprehending the prompt was the key. While many candidates were still reading the materials word by word, Li Yifei, relying on his formidable information-synthesis capability and precise grasp of policy, quickly seized upon the core contradiction: the structural dislocation between grassroots governments "taking everything upon themselves" and social forces "lacking vitality."

The framework for countermeasures also took shape in his mind: transforming government functions, activating social forces, consolidating legal safeguards, and innovating governance tools.

Once his train of thought was clear, he picked up his black signing pen, its tip making a soft, rustling sound as it touched the answer sheet. His handwriting was neat and elegant.

In the problem-analysis section, his points were well-organized and hit the nail on the head, pointing out not only the concurrent existence of "overstepping" and "absence" but also dissecting the underlying systemic obstacles and conceptual issues.

In the countermeasure section, his arguments progressed step by step, encompassing macro-policy guidance, specific operational paths, and forward-looking reflections. Every sentence closely adhered to the material while elevating it, demonstrating both theoretical literacy and a sense of responsibility.

As for the final argumentative essay, he was fully confident. The title hit the core: "Combining Decontrol and Regulation to Stimulate the 'Sovereign Spring Water' of Social Governance." The opening statement set the tone, citing classical discourses to illustrate the urgency of social governance innovation.

The main body revolved around "releasing," "regulating," and "serving." He skillfully utilized case studies from the material while introducing real-world samples he was familiar with, making the argumentation both high-level and grounded, carrying strong persuasive power.

At the end, he echoed his inner thoughts: "Social governance is a systematic project that requires multi-party participation.

The government must excel at playing the 'subtraction' game and bravely delegate power; excel at 'addition' and refine its services; and even excel at 'multiplication' to stimulate social vitality.

Only in this way can we pool the strength of joint building, governance, and sharing, continuously elevate governance efficiency, and allow the 'sovereign spring water' to truly benefit thousands of households."

His writing was rigorous in logic, revealing a deep reflection on and sense of responsibility toward the modernization of national governance.

The tip of his pen kept up its rustling sound. While surrounding candidates were still racking their brains, Li Yifei had already smoothly completed his first draft.

He did not slack off, utilizing the remaining time to meticulously polish his work: deliberating over word choices, adjusting transitions, and ensuring that arguments and evidence were rock-solid. He paid special attention to the accuracy of key political expressions to avoid any ambiguity.

At the same time, he slowed down his writing speed, striving for neat and aesthetically pleasing handwriting—a tidy exam paper was competitive in its own right.

Time slipped away amidst intense focus. Outside the window, the sky remained gloomy, and beneath the classroom lights were faces either writing furiously or deep in thought.

Li Yifei completed his final read-through and gently laid down his pen. He did not look around with the relieved expression of some candidates, nor did he harbor any thoughts of submitting his paper early.

He simply sat upright, back straight, and gazed calmly at the neatly written, substantive answer booklet before him. The ink had dried, just like his state of mind at that moment—steady and resolute.

A day of examinations had drawn to a close. In both the aptitude and essay tests, he was confident he had performed brilliantly. Yet, he maintained a composure that belied his age. Submitting the paper early? That did not align with the image a "civil servant" ought to project in his mind.

Youth was no excuse for restlessness; steadiness was the foundation for winning trust. Before this threshold leading into the system, displaying this patience and restraint was in itself a silent declaration—he was prepared, possessing not only knowledge but also the proper mindset.

Stepping out of the exam building, the cold wind immediately enveloped him. Yet, Li Yifei felt a clear warmth blooming in his heart. He had no worries about the exam results.

With such solid and thorough preparation, he was certain he would rank among his university's recommended candidates. This was not arrogance, but the inevitable outcome of every solid step of accumulation he had taken in the past. From the moment he stepped into Peking University, his goals had been clear and his steps firm.

Academic excellence, outstanding social practice, a strong comprehensive performance, and his brilliant showing in today's exam hall... All of these had paved a smooth, natural path for him.

He instinctively tightened the collar of his coat once more, burying his chin into the warm cashmere as he merged into the dispersing crowd of people leaving the venue.

The lights of the capital began to flicker on, dyeing the winter dusk a warm yellow while traffic converged into a river of lights on the streets.

Li Yifei raised his head, gazing up at the deep night sky. The stars had not yet lit up, much like those distant horizons in his heart that he had not yet reached but was bound to run toward. The road ahead was still long. But this very first step, he had walked with absolute firmness.