Chapter 12 — The Night Before Exam Day

With every step I take, I can hear my own breathing. The top of the stairs has a red banner. Calm and confident, pass the golden board exam. Before, I found these eight words really cheesy. Now it's like someone is pulling me out of the mud. Ms. Tan stopped outside the door. The bandage on her temple leaked a little blood again, but she still smiled at me. "Manh Chi, come in." "Don't let anyone drag you out of the test." I nodded. The supervisor checked my face, citizen identification card, exam notice and explanation. My seat is in the third column, fifth row. When I sat down, my back was drenched in cold sweat. The other candidates in the classroom were all looking at me. Some people were whispering. I bowed my head and arranged my pen neatly. The exam bell hasn't rang yet. I looked up at the blackboard ahead. The upper right corner of the blackboard has the exam room number written on it. Chalk letters are very normal. But in the groove of the blackboard, there is a small piece of red thread pressed. Like it was removed from some old cloth wrapper. I remember the red cloth bundle my father brought. Remember what your aunt said about diapers. Remember the series of numbers engraved on the back of the copper card. My fingers tightened. The invigilator started handing out exam papers. When the paper fell on my desk, I saw that the full name section had my name already printed on it. Manh Chi. The exam honor roll number is also correct. But the back of the test paper has a very faint mark. I pretended to correct the exam question, tilting the paper slightly to the light. The marks join together to form a few words. After the exam, don't go out the north door. My eyelids twitched slightly. The north door is the only exit allowed for candidates to leave the test site. After finishing the first exam, all candidates will leave from the north gate. If I don't go through the north door, I will attract attention. I raised my head to look at the supervisor. The teacher in front had a neutral expression. The teacher behind him was walking around examining the exam, his eyes glancing over each candidate. When the teacher walked up behind me, his footsteps stopped for a second. The message in the text message suddenly rang in my ears. Before the first exam begins, he will stand right behind you. I held the pen and didn't look back. The teacher behind me bent down, pretending to be checking my papers. A very faint smell of tobacco leaves wafted down. My father also smelled of tobacco leaves. But this smell was colder, mixed with the smell of rust and old earth. He whispered: "Lam Tri Ha's daughter, don't write too much like her." My blood instantly turned cold. The teacher in front just happened to step forward. "Teacher, please don't stop at any one place for too long." The teacher stood up straight and smiled. "Let's check her documents." In front of his chest, he wore a supervisor's card. The photo is himself. But his name is Ly Bach. I stared at the exam sealing strip, my palms sweating little by little. He is not Tham Truong Bach. Or to be more precise, he used another name and stood proudly behind me. The bell rang. Literature class officially begins. All the sounds of flipping papers rang out at the same time. I forced myself to lower my head and look at the problem. The first text essay is about memory and identity. I could barely smile. The sound of footsteps behind kept circling. Every time he stops near me, I feel like there's a knife next to my neck. But I can't lift my head. Can't turn back. Cannot fall. Tham Chu wanted to ruin my university entrance exam. Duong Tue wants to take my life. Tham Truong Bach wanted to get something back. They are all waiting for me to collapse in front of this table. I can't anymore. When the writing test appeared, I was stunned for half a second. The assignment requires writing an essay revolving around "Hidden truth and personal choice". I hold the pen

go up. When the first word fell, a very soft cough suddenly rang out from behind. Three short sounds and one long sound. Like some kind of signal. Right after that, a candidate sitting in the last row of the classroom suddenly stood up. He clutched his stomach, his voice painful. "Miss, I want to go to the bathroom." 15 The contestant in the last row was pale and sweaty on his forehead. The female supervisor immediately walked over and asked. But the male supervisor spoke faster than her. "Let me take her away." His voice was calm, as if he had been waiting for this moment. I held the pen tightly, my eyes glued to the squares on the exam paper. Don't turn back. But I know that as long as he leaves the exam room, there will be one less outside eye monitoring him. The female proctor frowned. "According to the regulations, two proctors are not allowed to leave the exam room at the same time. Please call the hallway proctor." The male proctor smiled slightly. "The student's situation is urgent." He grabbed the other candidate and was about to walk out. Just as he passed my desk, a folded piece of paper the size of a fingernail fell out of his sleeve. The piece of paper fell at my feet. I didn't look down. He didn't stop either. The hallway supervisor at the door just ran over and stopped him. "Let me take the students away." A dark glint flashed in the male supervisor's eyes, but he quickly retreated to the podium.