The Ultimate Proctor

Snow had been falling for four hours without any sign of stopping. It was a desolate mountain cabin, its walls hung with hunting implements. A long, worm-eaten wooden table dominated the center, surrounded by a motley crew of people – men and women, young and old, including one foreigner. The room was freezing. Everyone shivered, faces grim, yet no one dared light a fire. Because the old-fashioned radio on the table was speaking. [The time is now 17:30 Beijing Time.] [The exam begins in 30 minutes. Candidates, please enter the examination hall promptly.] The radio's voice was raspy, crackling with static characteristic of the 1950s, tirelessly playing ghost. This was its second broadcast. The first, three hours ago, had announced [Welcome to Examination Hall 003712], directly causing one elderly lady to faint; she still hadn't recovered. As for the other one who disobeyed instructions and tried to dismantle the radio… after prying open the battery compartment, he charged out like a man possessed. Five minutes later, his corpse slid down with the snow from the roof. Since then, no one had dared touch the thing. [Candidates who have not yet entered the hall, please do so immediately. Do not linger outside.] The entire message looped three times. Inside the cabin, dead silence reigned. After a long while, someone whispered, "It's giving instructions again... What do we do? How does it know someone's outside?" Everyone looked sickly pale. No one answered. Another moment passed. The man sitting at the head of the table asked impatiently, "So, who hasn't come in?" This man sported a head of frizzy, muddy-yellow hair. He was wiry, of medium height. Both arms were sleeved in tattoos – a chaotic menagerie impossible to distinguish – but his demeanor was intimidating. The person beside him flinched and answered, "Old Yu." "Which Old Yu?" "The drunk who vomited as soon as he entered, the one with his son and nephew." The speaker tilted his chin towards the wall, cautiously making a "shush" gesture. Against the wall was a tattered sofa where the nephew lay. He was a young man of about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, tall and exceptionally striking. When he'd entered, stooping under the doorframe, he'd seemed part of the landscape – the mountain pines and white snow behind him. However, from the moment he entered, his face had been thunderous, radiating arrogance. According to the drunken ramblings of Benjamin Yu, the nephew's name was Arthur Wright. "He just came back from abroad less than two months ago. Took some time off during the National Day holiday to visit me in Harbin. I was supposed to take him to the airport tomorrow morning... Ah! It's all my fault! Couldn't hold my liquor!" Benjamin Yu had gotten plastered at the farewell drink. Taking advantage of the empty late-night streets, he'd weaved his way down the pavement. In front of the Children's Hospital, someone had left a pile of silver foil spirit money. Benjamin, swaying, lost his balance and stepped right into the pile. Then, the world spun, and he, along with his son and nephew, was dumped here. When they entered this cabin, he was still dizzy. "Wah!" he vomited all over Arthur. After throwing up, Benjamin sobered up from fright, too terrified to speak to his nephew. Everyone here was a victim of broad daylight ghost sightings, utterly unprepared. Only the foreigner named Mike Davis had a spare set of clean clothes in his backpack. Arthur changed into them, then distanced himself from the group, curled up on the sofa without another word, seemingly asleep. Peeking past the arm covering his face, a single earring glinted on his right ear, reflecting the cabin's oil lamp and the snow outside, dazzlingly bright. ... It should have been dark, but the snow-covered wilderness still held a faint glow. A heavily pregnant woman glanced anxiously at the cupboard. Phone times were scrambled here; only the clock atop the cupboard told the hour. "It's almost 6 o'clock. What about Old Yu...?" Bang! Bang! Bang! Before she could finish, the cabin door was suddenly pounded. Everyone jumped, eyes wide. Snow was wiped from a window pane, revealing Benjamin Yu's large face pressed against the glass, mouthing exaggeratedly: "It's me! Open up!" The group collectively exhaled slightly. Good, he'd made it back before 6. Not dead. The two snowmen who entered were indeed Benjamin Yu and his son, Oliver Yu. "How is it outside?" everyone clamored. Benjamin shivered violently for a while, vigorously rubbing his face and then his son, finally warming up a little. "I circled around a huge area, useless! No matter which way I went, within ten minutes, this damned cabin was right in front of me! Couldn't get out!" "Any people? Or other houses?" "None," Benjamin said despairingly. "Don't count on it." Despair washed over everyone's faces. No phone signal. Chaotic time. Trees all looked the same. Couldn't tell directions. Nothing. This was their predicament. Oh, and there was a radio, incessantly blaring about exams, exams. Bloody exams. As soon as Benjamin stepped inside, the radio crackled with static again. One afternoon was enough to instill a conditioned reflex. Everyone immediately shut up and looked at the radio. [All candidates have entered. The examination rules are now announced.] The newly arrived Benjamin and Oliver swallowed hard. [The exam will be conducted strictly within the designated time.] [Once the exam officially begins, candidates may no longer enter the examination hall. Candidates may not leave the examination hall midway. In case of emergencies, temporary leave is permitted only under the supervision of an invigilator.] [Except for open-book exams, the use of mobile phones and other communication devices is prohibited. Please ensure they are powered off.] [Scoring is based on key points. Answers must be written on the designated answer sheet (except under special circumstances). Otherwise, answers will be void.] The radio fell silent again. A moment later, a buzz of discussion erupted in the room. "Who are the invigilators?" "Open-book exams?" "What's an answer sheet?" "Studying it now? Are you lot mad?" Dominic Taylor, the man covered in tattoos, fingered a Swiss Army knife, clearly plotting something. "What else can we do?" The pregnant woman's eyes were still swollen from crying, her voice soft. "Don't forget the one before..." She pointed towards the roof. Dominic remembered the corpse and paled. He stiffened for a moment, finally accepting reality. He waved the Swiss Army knife towards Oliver. "Kid." Oliver looked left and right, then pointed at his own nose. "You... calling me?" "Yeah, you. Come here, sit." Dominic patted the empty seat nearest to him. "I'll..." Oliver glanced back at his brother, still "dead" on the sofa. He wisely swallowed the curse. "I'm 18." Besides, Dominic looked barely twenty-five or twenty-six. What right did he have to call someone else 'kid'? "Calling doesn't matter!" Dominic was impatient. "Sit down. I'm asking, are you a student?" Oliver: "Yes... I suppose?" Dominic frowned. "Can you take exams?" Benjamin reflexively blurted, "He can! He grew up taking exams!" "Shut the hell up," Oliver retorted to his drunk father, never polite. But after snapping at his dad, he turned back to find everyone in the room staring at him eagerly. Oliver: "..." He chose his words carefully. "I just finished the college entrance exam in June. I've been going crazy for over three months... so... um... I'm a bit rusty at exams now." The pregnant woman, panicked all afternoon, managed a weak smile. "Still better than us. It's only been three months for you. We've forgotten everything ages ago." "No." Oliver found it absurd, momentarily forgetting his fear. "Don't you guys read novels or watch movies? Exams during hauntings can't be real exams! It's definitely just a euphemism!" "For what?" Oliver rolled his eyes. "How should I know? Ghost stories are all about dying over and over. Who the hell would test you on physics here? Did the Ministry of Education build this cabin?" He felt it wasn't emphatic enough and added meaningfully, "Hmph." The "dead" cousin on the sofa was finally "hmph"-ed awake. Oliver turned to look. He saw Arthur sit up, sweep a half-lidded gaze over the crowd, then lower his head to rub his neck. His legs, planted on the worn wooden floor, were long, making the sofa seem even shabbier. The timing seemed calculated. Just as he lifted his head, the clock on the cupboard chimed. Dong! Dong!... 6 o'clock sharp. The radio crackled again. [The time is now 18:00 Beijing Time. The exam officially begins.] [Reminder: Once the exam begins, candidates may no longer enter the examination hall. Candidates may not leave the examination hall during the exam. Violators bear the consequences.] [Any instances of cheating or rule violations discovered during the exam will result in expulsion from the examination hall.] [Other exam requirements will be specified according to the specific questions.] It blathered threats for a while, paused for two seconds, then said: [Duration of this exam: 48 hours.] [Subject of this exam: Physics.] Oliver: "..." [Exam papers and answer sheets are now being distributed. We wish you success.] After delivering its final line, the radio went dead again. Oliver: "..." Bloody hell, shouldn't the papers and answer sheets be distributed first??? The pregnant woman let out a low cry, panicked. "That wall!" She pointed to the wall above the stove. Previously empty except for a few knife marks, it now bore several lines of text: Stem: A group of travellers arrived at the snowy mountains... Question Requirement: Papers will be collected every 6 hours. If no scoring point is identified within 6 hours, one candidate will be disqualified and expelled from the examination hall. Below these lines was a large blank space, like the answer area on an exam paper. What kind of question was this? What were they supposed to answer? Everyone was baffled. Forget 6 hours, even 600 hours wouldn't be enough for them to figure out how to hit a scoring point. Just then, a gust of cold wind laden with snow pellets blasted into the room, hitting everyone full in the face and making them shiver. They followed the wind's source and saw Arthur standing by the window, having opened it halfway. "What the hell are you doing?!" Dominic Taylor roared. Arthur had one hand in his trouser pocket, the other reaching outside. Hearing the shout, he glanced back. Perhaps it was the lightness of his gaze, but it always seemed to carry cold mockery and arrogance. Dominic was even more irritated. "Don't you know to ask before opening a window? What if something happens? Can you take responsibility?" "Who are you?" Arthur tossed out the two words and ignored him, continuing to extend his left hand outside. Benjamin couldn't hold back. He nudged his son and whispered urgently, "Ask him." For some reason, Benjamin always seemed afraid of this nephew. "Bro!" Oliver called out. "What are you doing?" Arthur withdrew his left hand, shook it at Oliver, and finally gave an answer. "Testing the consequences of expulsion." Everyone gasped. Crimson blood was trickling from his fingers towards his palm. Against his pale skin, it looked even more shocking. He wiped it off casually, then rummaged on the windowsill, picked up a rusty tin can, and threw it out the window. Under everyone's watchful eyes, the tin can disintegrated into powder in an instant, scattering with the snow. When they looked back at the "Question Requirement" on the wall, terror filled every gaze. By the wall. Arthur closed the window properly, his eyes sweeping over their backs. The only one remotely connected to exams was Oliver... whom he knew all too well. This classmate had spent his three high school years juggling puppy love, group fights, scaling walls to go online, and public criticism under the national flag. His public service was busy, and he still had to find time to deal with frequent, sudden bouts of teenage angst. He hadn't left the danger zone yet. Physics? Expecting him to know it was worse than expecting a dog. As for the others... Old, weak, sick, pregnant... and a thug. A motley crew. Opening move: a death sentence.