On Study and Rest
The Zhongkao, Gaokao, postgraduate entrance exams, doctoral entrance exams—too many exams flood our lives. Whenever exams are mentioned, especially for Chinese students, what usually comes with them is the idea of “wholehearted study.” But then, what does “wholehearted study” really mean? Has one truly invested their whole heart into it?
I believe those who say so may not have fully understood what kind of activity study actually is. Study is a process: absorbing knowledge, internalizing and consolidating it, and finally putting it into practice to solve problems, thereby transforming knowledge into real ability. Exam-oriented study, on the other hand, is absorbing knowledge, internalizing and consolidating it, and aiming for mastery, so as to reproduce it during exams.
Neither of these requires extreme intensity. In other words, it is not necessary to devote all of one’s energy in a 7 days × 12 hours fashion like many Chinese high school students do. Study itself can be broken down into pieces. Any kind of study can be seen as a process of “chipping away at the monster’s health bar.” Facing an exam is like facing a monster: keep striking, and eventually you’ll bring it down.
So, once you know how much effort is required to defeat the monster, all you need is to calculate your time and carry it out. This kind of directed study, with clear goals and strong motivation, does not require constant “pushing.” It is purposeful and task-driven by its very nature.
But here arises a question: isn’t this learning mode only applicable to the “gifted”—those who are quick learners with strong abilities? What about ordinary people, who, no matter how much effort they put in, always seem unable to reach a satisfactory level?
Here, we need to introduce a new concept: Have you ever noticed that sometimes your brain suddenly feels “switched on”? Your thinking becomes unusually clear, your memory sharpens, your senses awaken, and you enter a state of “flow.”
We must recognize this: only in such a state is study truly effective—whether for exams, for consolidation, or for memorization.
Yet many people, in pursuit of so-called “hard work” and “diligence,” trap themselves in low-efficiency study. This oppressive style, combined with negative emotions, makes entering flow state almost impossible. To reach flow, one must first go through a process of replenishing the spirit. The essence of this lies in effective rest. The more fully one restores their mental energy, the higher the probability of entering flow; conversely, without it, one falls into low-efficiency patterns, where no amount of effort translates into progress.
And rest itself varies from person to person: for some, it’s playing games; for others, traveling; for some, traveling with a sibling; for others, watching anime, listening to music… “Rest” is an elastic concept, highly individual. Everyone has their own unique form of rest, their own “precious.” For some, simply cherishing that “precious” is in itself the best kind of rest.
Then comes another question: under such enormous academic pressure, where is the time to replenish the spirit, to rest?
Let’s do the math: Take “travel” as an example of rest. If you can secure weekends off, you could leave right after evening classes on Friday to relax. This still leaves you five full weekdays to study. Imagine you have only 4–5 classes a day: two in the morning, two in the afternoon. From 7:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m., you get 240 minutes in total; deducting 90 minutes of class, that’s still 150 minutes—two and a half hours for consolidation and practice. The afternoon offers another 240 minutes from 1:00 to 5:00 p.m. After dinner and chores, by 6:00 p.m. you’re free again. From 6:00 to 9:00 p.m. is another 180 minutes. After 9:00 p.m., you’re free to spend time with family, with your precious, on hobbies or work, and then sleep well.
In this way, each day you gain both knowledge and leisure. Under such a flexible schedule, you still accumulate 660 minutes of study per day. Deduct 180 minutes of classes, and you’re left with 480 minutes—eight solid hours for consolidation and practice. Of these, two hours can be used for online lectures, two hours for internalization and building your own framework, and the remaining four hours for mock training to prepare for exams. Eight hours per day, forty hours per week, plus fifteen hours of class—what knowledge could not be mastered within this time frame?
The only obstacle is the inability to remain fully in flow during those 55 hours. And what causes this? Ultimately, it is insufficient rest. Too much time wasted on meaningless socializing, trivial tasks, and distractions leaves neither enough study time nor enough rest, preventing flow and creating a vicious cycle.
But with such a flexible lifestyle, you can still secure 55 hours of effective study per week. This leaves room for weekly trips, daily self-reflection, and family time. And if you trim some entertainment, you will gain even more time. Fifty-five hours is the baseline. If one truly wishes to study, anyone can achieve this.
Personally, I strongly reject the notion of “IQ” as a determining factor. Different life states create different outcomes. Often, the real difference is a slight gap in perception. Some people dismiss this lifestyle as impossible, but once they try it, they discover it’s perfectly feasible—not difficult at all. The obstacle lies in the belief, “I can’t do it,” which leads to rejection before even starting.
These thoughts apply to everyone preparing for Zhongkao, Gaokao, postgraduate or doctoral exams. I hope each of you finds the lifestyle most suitable for yourself, and achieves a better version of who you are.
(Frankly speaking, it all comes down to this: spending time with your sister, studying, spending time with your sister, studying—a virtuous cycle, flowing straight into bliss.
September, 2025.
