Illustration: Lu Ting/GT

Zhuangyuan, once one of the most prestigious titles in ancient China, referred to non-noble applicants who ranked first in imperial examinations. Though imperial examinations were abolished in 1905, the honorable title zhuangyuan is still being used in today's society for those elite high school students who obtain the highest marks in their province's gaokao (China's national college entrance examinations).

It's a bit bizarre that after one hundred years and a complete reformation of our nation's ruling class, zhuangyuan is still something that we endeavor to be called. Each year, reports of zhuangyuan go viral, with students and university administrators alike bowing down to the new class of China's best and brightest.

But for some millennial students, the title zhuangyuan is no longer enough. One of this year's zhuangyuan, a teen girl in Changchun, Jilin Province, was caught selling her gaokao notes for 50 yuan ($7.5) outside of her exam center. Desperate parents were queuing up to buy her papers in the hopes that their own children could emulate her academic success.

Profiting on the gaokao and exploiting one's zhuangyuan title is in fact nothing new. In 2014, Yangtze Evening News reported that zhuangyuan notes from different provinces were being sold on a number of platforms. A quick search for the words "zhuangyuan notes" on e-retailer Taobao reveals thousands of results along with the number of completed transactions, which also number in the thousands.

But are zhuangyuan something that still deserve our attention and money? In our exam-obsessed society where the highest marks are believed to ensure a financially stable future, why are smart students resorting to selling their notes?

As a university student, I feel that China's educational system is wholly to blame for this profiteering mentality. Instead of truly imparting knowledge, our nation's high schools have become mere zhuangyuan factories. Students are not taught to think independently or creatively but simply spoon-fed over 12 years the answers to questions that will appear on the gaokao. Those who have the mental capacity to memorize the most answers are awarded the zhuangyuan title.

According to annual research conducted by the Chinese Universities Alumni Association (CUAA), between 1977 and 2016 over 800 high schools from 230 prefecture-level cities have produced zhuangyuan. These schools are thus regarded as the top "key schools" of their provinces due to their supposed capability in cultivating zhuangyuan. With over 118 zhuangyuan alumni, Shanghai High School ranks first in Shanghai and seventh nationwide. On the school's official website, this ranking and its high enrollment rate into China's best universities are used as "evidence" of its superior teaching abilities.

Parents seeking out the best schools for their children pay attention only to this one single fact. Nothing else about the school matters, and they are willing to spend millions of yuan on new apartments in these "key school districts" just so that their children are eligible for enrollment. I was raised in such a family, with my parents singularly obsessed about my scores. They drove me to become an over-achiever in primary and middle school.

As a result of their "tiger parenting," along with admonishments by my teachers, I suffered from self-doubt and mental anguish all throughout high school. Adding to my distress was the fact that I could not perform well in math, physics or chemistry, which are all-important subjects in China. By the time I took the gaokao, I was so miserable that I bombed my exams. I presumed my life was ruined because I wouldn't be able to get into "the best" universities. After the gaokao scores were announced, the news was filled with reports about students who, like me, had committed suicide because they underperformed in their exams.

The tragic irony of this is that not even good gaokao scores or the zhuangyuan title are enough anymore to promise students a successful future in our fluctuating economy and uncertain job market. And for those zhuangyuan who spent their childhoods memorizing facts and figures instead of becoming well-rounded people with numerous hobbies, extra-curricular interests and interesting personalities, they are left with absolutely nothing else to offer our society.

The opinions expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Global Times.