Exam Site Flu
The atmosphere in the exam room was like air had been sucked out, dull and oppressive. Each examinee was as if muted, with only the scratching of pen nibs on paper, occasionally mixed with suppressed coughs. I am Li Ming, a veteran "exam-taker" who views the National Civil Service Exam as a routine annual event, as familiar as attending a wedding.
Today's exam room was unusually quiet, perhaps because of the cold weather. The invigilator was new, wearing a mask that only revealed his two eyes, like a wary owl. As he walked by, I saw he was holding a spray bottle, seemingly filled with disinfectant. I was a bit puzzled but didn't think too much of it and continued to focus on the questions.
The morning session was on quantitative reasoning. I worked like a precision machine, accurately analyzing each option, trying to find the only exit in the maze of questions. Suddenly, I felt dizzy, and my forehead started to feel hot. I tried hard to overcome my physical discomfort and refocus my attention on the questions. But soon, I found myself unable to hold on any longer.
I secretly glanced around and found that many candidates had started rubbing their noses, and some were even coughing quietly. The invigilator seemed to have noticed the anomaly and began pacing around the exam room, spraying even more frequently with the bottle in his hand. A faint smell of disinfectant filled the entire room, but it didn't seem to help much.
Just as I felt like I was about to faint, the invigilator suddenly stopped next to me. He leaned close and said in a low voice, “Are you feeling unwell, student?”
I nodded, and before I could speak, I felt a wave of dizziness. I tried to grab the table next to me but lost consciousness.
When I woke up again, I found myself lying in a cold room. The room was empty, with only a bed and a heart rate monitor. I struggled to sit up and found that I was wearing a hospital gown.
"You're awake?" A doctor in a white coat walked in. "You've contracted Influenza A, and you're now in isolation treatment."
“Influenza A?” I was stunned for a moment, “But, I was clearly in the exam room…”
"Yes, this flu is fierce. Several people in your exam room have been infected," the doctor said. "We will treat you collectively, and we'll arrange the rest after you've recovered."
I suddenly understood. The disinfectant, the coughs, even my own dizziness and fever were all signs of Influenza A.
"Then, what about our exam?" I couldn't help asking.
The doctor smiled and patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry, the state will make arrangements. The most important thing for you now is to recover. After all, your health is the most important thing.”
I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The state will make arrangements? I suddenly remembered a joke: A wave of Influenza A cancels the National Civil Service Exam, so everyone can only try to get into public hospitals. It was an absurd joke, but it actually happened. Perhaps, this is the real "rat race."
The ward was very quiet, with only the heart rate monitor beeping. I suddenly felt that this exam might not have been about selecting talent from the beginning, but rather a large-scale flu screening. Whoever could hold on to the end could get the "iron rice bowl." And I, unfortunately, became an eliminator in this screening. But it’s good this way, at least I don’t have to compete to the death for that "iron rice bowl" anymore.