That summer, the cicadas buzzed so loudly it made my head ache. The moment the college entrance exam results came out, I stared at the glaring numbers on the screen, my fingertips ice-cold. There were no surprises, no miracles. I hadn't made the cut. I watched the kids from my village cheer, their admission letters in hand, and saw the disappointment and helplessness my parents couldn't hide. Clenching the hem of my shirt, I gritted my teeth and said, "I'm not retaking the exam. I'm going to the city to find work." Saying it brought both relief and uncertainty. I grew up in a remote mountain village, and in all my life, I'd never traveled beyond the few hills around it. The city was...
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