A mere six questions in and Kathy was already exhausted. Like its preceding brethren, the seventh question had adopted an attitude of hostility. It squirmed under the tip of her pencil, distorting the entire page and biting and snapping at the lead tip whenever she came within striking distance of the answer.

The HSK was exhausting, proving as much a physical challenge as any measure of grammatical and linguistic knowledge. It was also a test of will: one hand to force the question down on the page, and hold it flat there while the other answered it into submission. Only then would it lie tranquil and defeated, drained of its mystery and magic, and she could move on to the next.