Millions of students across China will start their freshman year in college this fall after the dust of gaokao 2019 has settled. Having sat the national college entrance exam myself 17 years ago, I still remember the feeling of relief when it was over. Although my results weren't great, I wasn't too upset. But unlike me, some are not ready to settle for theirs.

Every summer, the biggest winners are those who have outscored the vast majority of their peers to gain admissions into the elite "985" universities, China's equivalent to the Ivy League. The lucky few constitute less than six percent of examinees in major cities and only one percent in some other provinces.

For others, it is not the end of their 985 dream. Among the 10 million or so gaokao takers in 2019, an estimated one million are prepared to extend their high school study for another year and sit the exams again in 2020. "Lay the groundwork in the senior year, go for 985 in the fourth year" is the new slogan for high-schoolers aiming for elite universities.

"Of course I have to repeat. My score is not good enough for first-tier universities. What hope do I have to succeed in life?" said an anonymous student in explaining his decision to resit gaokao on Zhihu, where internet users weighed in on the subject.

It is well understood that the Chinese take the gaokao seriously. The high-stakes annual exam has been likened to "crossing a single-log bridge along with an army of tens of thousands" due to the intense competition. As higher education becomes available to more people, educationists say a new single-log bridge for elite education has emerged in the country.

China's college admission rate has nearly tripled from a decade ago, thanks to continued enrollment expansion. In 2018, more than 81 percent of gaokao takers were admitted. But for those who see higher education as life-changer, it is elite universities or nothing.

Chinese schools have seen an increasing number of repeat students, who have apparently given up their admissions to put themselves through another year of grueling cram school because they are unwilling to settle for less.

Voluntary repeaters are sometimes frowned upon as they create additional competition for incoming graduates, raising admission bars and driving more students down the same route. As pointed out by a well-publicized study on repeat students, what used to be a last resort for those who failed has become another shot at elite universities.

"The fact that university admissions still largely depend on exam scores drives students with already high scores to resit gaokao," said Chu Zhaohui, researcher at the National Institute of Education Sciences, "because better scores mean better universities."

The conventional wisdom worldwide recognizes the importance of education for upward social mobility. In much of the developed world, it is often those from affluent backgrounds who get the best education and the best jobs, as American sociologist Lauren Rivera explored in depth in her book Pedigree. But that doesn't mean others are hopeless.

"I had dreams of going to Yale, but I couldn't afford it. I went where I could get a full scholarship," said Christina, a graduate from the U.S. She said even though she didn't love her alma mater, the experience allowed her to make great friends and become more confident.

"College is what you make of it. Every place you go can be a learning experience," she said.

In China, however, the dream of graduating from a top college to change one's fortunes is still alive, making higher education in the country particularly utilitarian.

In his 2013 book Silent Revolution, Professor James Lee of Hong Kong University of Science and Technology argues that because of gaokao, elite universities in China are more inclusive in terms of students' family backgrounds than those in the West, where social classes are more consolidated.

Because admissions based on exams scores ensure fairness in access to top universities, Chinese students have so far enjoyed a relatively high social mobility compared to their Western counterparts. Some of China's richest CEOs today are a testament to the success story of high-scorers from humble backgrounds. Jack Ma, founder of Alibaba and Yu Minhong, founder of education company New Oriental, both took the exam three times before making it to university. Just a few years ago, "Victory over Fu'erdai (rich second generation)" were the words on the wall of a cram school classroom.

Gaokao's strengths as the great equalizer are also its biggest flaws. For many years, the exam has been criticized for perpetuating an "exam-oriented" education system that kills creativity. There have been continued calls for reform as students, parents and teachers complain loudly about the stress it causes them.

Read more: Alternative to Gaokao: Behind the tide of studying abroad

Changes are coming and some already being felt. Last year, China's educational authorities launched an "academic burden reduction" campaign to crack down on after-school tutoring and banned the idolizing of gaokao top-scorers in the media. In June, the State Council released a reform guideline to gradually transform the score-oriented college enrollment system to one with "diversified evaluation and enrollment criteria."

These attempts to correct the negative side of "exam-oriented education," many say, will just give more advantages to rich students with the means and resources to cultivate other desirable qualities, like in sports and arts. Meanwhile, middle-class families in China increasingly gravitate toward Western-style education, which is perceived to be better for children's all-round development. 

The choice for quality education will set China's urban rich apart from the rural poor, who still have to rely on exam scores, said Liu Yunshan, dean of the school of education at Peking University.

For the latter, that tried-and-true pathway to a better future is still wide open, at least for now, on exam papers.