The following Tuesday brings the dreaded monthly Physics unit test. The air in Room 302 is thick with the scent of exam ink and panic. The desks have been pushed apart, separated by wide aisles to prevent cheating, leaving each student isolated in their own private crucible of stress.
Xiaoyu drifts down the rows, watching the frantic scratching of pens. She stops beside the third desk in the second row.
Her best friend, Yue Chen, is completely falling apart.
Yue Chen has always struggled with sciences, but the combined weight of intense exam preparation and her deep grief over Xiaoyu has broken her focus. She is staring at the third page of the exam paper, where a series of complicated mechanics questions demand advanced formulas. Tears are silently dripping from Yue Chen's chin, blurring the black ink of the question numbers. She is gripping her hair, her knuckles white, her mind completely blank.
Xiaoyu feels a sudden, fierce wave of protectiveness. She cannot bear to see her friend fail, not when she knows how hard Yue Chen had tried before everything fell apart.
Xiaoyu steps closer, leaning down until her ghostly face is right beside Yue Chen's left ear. She looks at the exam paper. The questions are tough, but to Xiaoyu's analytical mind, the answers are perfectly clear.
She concentrates every single ounce of her spiritual energy, focusing the static charge of her existence into her voice. She doesn't just think the words: she shouts the answers directly into her friend's ear.
"Question fourteen is B," Xiaoyu calls out, forcing her energy through the silent air. "Use the kinetic energy formula. It is B."
Yue Chen freezes. Her pen stops mid-air. She blinks away her tears, looking around the room in absolute confusion. The exam hall is dead silent except for the rhythmic clicking of the teacher's heels at the front of the room. Nobody had spoken.
Yet, Yue Chen had just heard a strange, static-like whisper, like a weak radio signal cutting through the scratch of pens. It sounded remarkably like Xiaoyu.
"Question fifteen is A," Xiaoyu repeats, leaning closer, her voice straining against the invisible barrier between life and death. "The friction coefficient cancels out. Choose A."
Yue Chen's breath hitches. She doesn't know if she is losing her mind from stress, but she trusts that voice down to her bones. Her fingers tremble as she hovers her pen over the bubble sheet. She scratches out her previous, desperate guess for question fourteen and firmly colors in the circle for B.
For the next ten minutes, Xiaoyu stays by her side, carefully reciting the correct options for the hardest multiple-choice section. The spiritual effort is exhausting, causing Xiaoyu's vision to blur and her weightless form to flicker like a dying candle.
Yue Chen can only clearly make out a fraction of the messages through the spiritual static, but she listens intently. She changes her answers on exactly six major questions, mapping her choices to the faint, familiar whispers echoing in her ear.
When the red-inked grades are posted on the back wall of the classroom two days later, Yue Chen stands in front of the list, her eyes wide. She didn't top the class, but her score is exactly three points above the failing line. It is just enough to save her from a brutal parent-teacher conference and a lecture from her strict father.
Watching Yue Chen let out a massive sigh of relief and smile for the first time in a week, Xiaoyu feels a profound sense of peace. She might be a ghost, but she can still protect the people she loves.
星期二的到来带来了令人畏惧的月度物理单元测验。302教室里弥漫着考试墨水和恐慌的气味。课桌已经被推开，用宽阔的过道隔开以防止作弊，每个人都被困在各自的压力熔炉里。
小语在课桌之间的过道里飘浮，看着笔尖疯狂地划过纸面。她在第二排的第三张桌子旁停下来。
她最好的朋友，悦晨，彻底崩溃了。
悦晨一向对理科很吃力，但紧张的备考压力加上对小语去世的深切悲痛彻底击垮了她的专注力。她盯着试卷的第三页，那里有一系列复杂的力学题目，需要用到高级公式。眼泪正从悦晨的下巴无声地滴落，模糊了题号的黑墨水。她紧抓着头发，指节发白，脑子里一片空白。
小语感到一股强烈的保护欲涌起。她无法忍受看到朋友不及格，尤其是在她知道悦晨曾经多么努力的时候。
小语走近，弯腰让自己的鬼魂脸贴近悦晨的左耳。她看向试卷。那些题目很难，但对小语的分析思维来说，答案清晰无比。
她集中所有的精神能量，将存在的静电荷灌注到自己的声音里。她不只是想出答案：她直接把答案喊进朋友的耳朵里。
"第十四题是B，"小语喊道，将能量强行穿过寂静的空气。"用动能公式。是B。"
悦晨僵住了。她的笔悬在半空。她眨掉眼泪，困惑地环顾四周。考试现场一片死寂，只有讲台前老师高跟鞋有节奏的咔嗒声。没有人在说话。
然而，悦晨确实听到了一个奇怪的、像静电一样的低语，就像微弱的无线电信号穿透笔尖的沙沙声。那声音听起来很像小语。
"第十五题是A，"小语重复道，凑得更近，她的声音对抗着生死之间无形的屏障。"摩擦系数约掉了。选A。"
悦晨倒吸一口气。她不知道自己是压力导致精神错乱，但她打心底信任那个声音。她的手指颤抖着，笔悬在答题卡上方。她划掉了第十四题之前绝望的猜测，坚定地在B的圆圈上涂黑。
接下来的十分钟里，小语一直待在悦晨身边，仔细地背诵最难的选择题部分的正确答案。灵力的消耗让小语的视野模糊，她轻盈的身形像快要熄灭的蜡烛一样闪烁不定。
悦晨只能通过灵异静电清晰地辨认出一小部分信息，但她认真地听着。她在六道大题上改了答案，将自己的选择对应进耳边回荡的微弱而熟悉的声音。
两天后，当红笔批改的成绩贴在教室后面的墙上时，悦晨站在成绩单前，眼睛瞪得大大的。她没有考到班级前列，但她的分数刚好超过及格线三分。这足以让她免于一场严酷的家长会和来自严格父亲的训斥。
看着悦晨如释重负地长出一口气，一周以来第一次露出笑容，小语感到一种深刻的平静。她可能是一个鬼魂，但她仍然可以保护她爱的人。