Renascido Após o Gaokao

Xia An had a splitting headache. Leaning back in his chair in the most comfortable position he could manage, he stared blankly at his surroundings. A butterfly fluttered in from beneath the rustling curtains and alighted on the corner of his desk. There, a pomelo he had hand-drawn in his first year of high school was now faded and mottled. Beneath it were the words "Sooner or Later," which left a deep impression on Xia An. It was his obsession back then: sooner or later, he would marry Little Pomelo. Regrettably, even eighteen years later, it hadn't happened. He touched the carved lines; the texture felt real. Xia An raised his head, looking for the sixth time at the line of red chalk on the right side of the blackboard: "Sprint for the Gaokao, Countdown: 3 Days." The butterfly flew away. Just like Xia An's soul, it had once again wandered into the lemon-tinted midsummer of 2006. 2006... Two years before the explosion that would follow the Olympics. Thank goodness, that was a relief. Rubbing his temples, Xia An tried to digest this sudden and inexplicable rebirth. It wasn't until the school bell rang that he snapped back. Taking a deep breath, he felt a surge of nervous anticipation, the kind one feels when returning home, at the thought of soon seeing the real old friends of the South Building. Three minutes passed. Footsteps from the floors below were clearly audible, yet the corridor outside his classroom was dead silent. Why hadn't any classmates returned? As he wondered, Xia An suddenly noticed that all dozens of desks were co