This article strives to write about the lives of real ordinary contestants.
What others think of as a contestant: Outstanding appearance, being recommended to the top 2 and being able to fall in love in a fancy way.
In fact, most of them are bald and black-faced. They are ridiculed by teachers in class while encountering hydroxy machetes to generate electricity for love.
How many contestants are there every year? Maybe a hundred thousand or so. How many are recommended? 50 In each subject (60 in Mathematics). There is no halo, no flowers or applause. Most ordinary contestants just pack up the competition textbooks and lock them in the cabinet after finishing the last competition, and return to the college entrance examination. The sweat and tears, glory and dreams of those competitions are hidden deep in their hearts. "But those people who stop at one, or don't even have one, haven't they studied hard for the competition?" They may be irrational, but what's the point of being a little crazy? This is like a youth novel, and it is also the shining years in some people's memories. The competition is a Shura field for weak schools, a path for geniuses, and an important part of the youthful years of that group of people. After thousands of sails, this is probably the gravel of life, but I still want to try to use my own pen and my own meager experience to describe this incident clumsily to commemorate and encourage myself.
Purpose: Break away prejudices and stereotypes and write a real competition ecology