Before I knew it, the second semester of my senior year had arrived, yet my academic performance showed no improvement. I knew that with my current grades, getting into college would be impossible unless a miracle happened. Given this situation, I had no choice but to start planning for my future.The primary reason for my poor academic performance was that I poured nearly all my energy into writing, my passion. I genuinely loved literature and hoped to develop in this field. My diligent writing efforts were rewarded handsomely by fate. At that time, I had already gained some recognition in the national campus literary scene, but my grades in other subjects were disastrous, consistently placing me at the bottom of the class in every exam.As the saying goes, you can't have your cake and eat it too—gain in one area inevitably means loss in another. It wasn't until my senior year that I truly felt the urgency of studying, for I had always harbored a dream of attending university. Yet my scores on several preliminary exams were too embarrassing to show anyone—what could I do? I had fallen too far behind. Just as I was contemplating my future, I discovered an editorial position advertised in a youth newspaper sent to me from Hunan.The ad specified no degree requirement, only a passion for editing and solid writing skills—perfect for me! I promptly mailed my application. Having published over ten articles in that paper during high school, I soon received a reply offering me the job. However, due to the editorial team's heavy workload, I had to start immediately.For someone who believed university admission was out of reach, I was naturally overjoyed. Moreover, the salary offered was quite generous for the time. Holding the reply letter, I thought: Since I couldn't get into college anyway, spending the remaining months in the classroom would serve little purpose. So, I submitted my withdrawal application to the school's academic affairs office.I didn't want to lose that job opportunity just because I couldn't get into university. After submitting my withdrawal papers, I began packing my belongings, preparing to head to that youth newspaper in Hunan. I thought to myself, I love writing, and working at a newspaper would be perfect. Just as my excitement was building, the academic affairs director, who had always admired my writing skills, found me. After inquiring about my situation, he looked at me and said, "Let me tell you a story.If after hearing this story you still insist on withdrawing, I won't stand in your way." The story he told me was about Alexander the Great. In ancient Greece, King Gordius of Phrygia had a rope tied into an intricate knot on his chariot. He prophesied that whoever could untie this knot would conquer Asia. By 334 BC, no one had succeeded in unraveling the knot.Then Alexander invaded Asia Minor. Standing before the Gordian Knot, he drew his sword and cut it without hesitation. Later, he indeed conquered the Persian Empire, fifty times larger than Greece. After finishing the tale, the dean asked, "Do you know why Alexander succeeded?" I shook my head. "Because he abandoned conventional thinking.Truthfully, the Gordian Knot was an impossible knot—no method but a sword could untie it." The dean looked at me earnestly. "Do you still wish to withdraw from school?" "Let me think about it!" My heart felt like a jar of mixed emotions had been overturned. "Think it over carefully, young man," the dean said, patting my shoulder. After that, I seriously reconsidered my decision to drop out and pursue an editorial career.In the midst of my thoughts, I suddenly realized that my so-called efforts from earlier days weren't genuine. Back then, I'd thought that even if I failed to get into university, my writing skills would easily secure me a living. Thus, my efforts were diluted with complacency, lacking the resolve of a desperate last stand. I understood the Dean was urging me to learn to let go, not to be seduced by the allure of that editor position.I made a decision in my heart: even if failure awaited, I would choose the best kind of failure—one where I had fought with all my might. After that, I cast aside all distractions and threw myself wholeheartedly into my studies. Later, perhaps moved by my willingness to let go, fate gifted me an opportunity: admission to a university without entrance exams. Of course, this exemption was granted because of my writing achievements. In college, I learned a great deal, and my writing skills advanced significantly.After graduation, I secured a position far superior to my previous editorial role. Yet that youth newspaper later ceased publication due to poor management. My decision to let go during my senior year opened doors to a more beautiful world. This experience taught me that at certain pivotal moments in life, only by daring to let go can one seize opportunities for greater, long-term gains.
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