Chapter Five: The Manager's Fury

After leaving Blueprint, Chen Qi belatedly sensed that something was off. How could a company of this size have only one round of interviews? And the general manager had personally taken part? Surely, it couldn’t be that the allure of his Peking University degree alone had won him such special attention. It must be, he thought. After a moment’s reflection, he put the matter out of his mind. No matter what, finding a job this smoothly was a good thing. He was nothing more than a freshly graduated student with nothing to his name—what sort of scheme could they possibly have for him? At worst, he’d just lose this job, and that was a risk he was willing to take.

He called the other two companies to postpone their interviews, and then wandered alone through this unfamiliar city, intent on learning more about this new world. But after a short time, he gave up. That inexpressible feeling of loneliness was more than he could bear. It was like waking from a midday nap to find the world at dusk—a sensation that this world did not belong to him.

He caught a cab back to his rented apartment, took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, staring for a long time at the numbers for his parents. Yet in the end, he still didn’t have the courage to call. Forget it, he thought, the time isn’t right. He quietly put his phone away.

Back at the apartment, he familiarized himself with his surroundings, bought some groceries, cooking utensils, and seasonings at the nearby market, and then shut himself in his room. He knew how to cook—back on Earth, even though he’d often been so busy he couldn’t tell day from night, he’d never shortchanged himself when it came to food. The sense of accomplishment that came from preparing a delicious meal with his own hands was something those bigwigs who never set foot in the kitchen could never truly understand.

Nearly two hours later, he finished his first hearty dinner in this new world, then opened his phone and continued to explore the world online.

—

The next day, Chen Qi arrived at Blueprint Advertising just on time. Following the receptionist to the Human Resources Department, he met the HR manager, Sister Hong—the woman in red who had interviewed him yesterday. After helping him complete the onboarding procedures, she personally led him to the Creative Department. Once again, Chen Qi felt something wasn’t quite right. There were three people in HR, and tasks like onboarding and escorting new hires to their departments certainly didn’t warrant the HR manager’s personal attention.

“Sister Hong…” After hesitating for a moment, he shamelessly tried to get closer to her.

She turned and gave him an inquiring look.

“Um… do you always have just one round of interviews?” he asked, feigning curiosity.

“Of course not, yesterday was an exception for you,” Sister Hong smiled. “Normally, interviews are on Fridays. I handle the first round, and the department heads do the second.”

Chen Qi was puzzled. “Why was I an exception?”

“To be honest, I’m rather baffled too. As far as I can recall, Mr. Xu has never participated in an interview before,” she said with a smile and a shake of her head.

She still couldn’t figure out why Mr. Xu had taken such an interest in this young man before her; his overall performance hadn’t been particularly outstanding. Could it really be just because of his degree? Remembering Mr. Xu’s reaction when he saw Chen Qi’s résumé yesterday, she thought perhaps that really was the case.

“He’s never attended an interview?” Chen Qi was surprised.

Was the Peking University name really that attractive? He couldn’t help but doubt it. But aside from that, he couldn’t think of any other reason. There couldn’t be another reason, could there?

Just as he was about to probe for more information, he saw the portly man who had interviewed him yesterday push open the glass door of an office up ahead, holding a folder. Above the door hung a sign reading “Creative Department.”

“Manager Zhao.” Sister Hong spotted him immediately.

Manager Zhao, just through the door, turned and, upon seeing Chen Qi, walked over.

“This is Manager Zhao, your Creative Department head,” Sister Hong introduced. Then she turned to Manager Zhao and said, “This is Chen Qi. I’ll leave him to you.”

Manager Zhao nodded expressionlessly, beckoned Chen Qi, and led him into the office.

Chen Qi followed silently. He could sense that Manager Zhao was not in a good mood today.

Inside, five people—three men and two women—sat at their desks, none of them appearing to be over thirty.

“That’s your seat,” Manager Zhao pointed to a desk at the front.

Chen Qi nodded and walked over quietly. From the look of things, there would be no formal introductions to his new colleagues.

The moment he entered the office, he sensed a stifling atmosphere among the five others. None dared look up at him; they all feigned busyness, only sneaking glances at him from the corners of their eyes.

It seemed something was about to happen today.

“I assume you all know what’s going on?” After Chen Qi took his seat, Manager Zhao casually leaned against a desk, looking at everyone expressionlessly.

At this posture, the five who had been pretending to be busy fell silent, putting down their work and appearing to listen intently, not daring to breathe.

From the way things looked, a scolding was inevitable.

“Can anyone tell me what’s going on here?” Manager Zhao’s tone was calm, but no one could miss the underlying anger in his voice.

The office fell silent. No one spoke; no one dared to.

Chen Qi sat awkwardly, unsure what expression he should wear to match theirs. His first task on his first day at work was to be scolded—how unique.

“Three submissions, rejected three times! What, do I not deserve any dignity?” Manager Zhao scrutinized them, his weathered face creased with frustration.

Still, no one answered.

“When you were submitting, weren’t you all so confident, swearing it would pass? Who was it who told me it was a sure thing?” Manager Zhao threw the folder onto a desk with an angry curse. “Can you show some respect for this industry? With work like this, do you really have the nerve to say you used your brains?”

“Well, didn’t you review it too?” a female colleague muttered quietly.

Manager Zhao’s eyes widened. “Talking back, are you?”

She pressed her lips together, lowered her head, and dared not utter another word.

“I’m honestly at a loss for words with you all. Half a month’s work, and this is what you produce.”

“Our competitors have already had three ads accepted, do you realize that? Three!”

“Don’t you feel even a little embarrassed? Have you seen the way other departments look at us?”

“Yesterday, when the general manager called us to a meeting, I didn’t dare raise my head the entire time, you know?” Manager Zhao’s anger still poured forth.

Chen Qi, listening on the sidelines, gradually pieced together the situation. The day before yesterday, their submission for a public service ad to CCTV had been rejected yet again.

Why “again”? Because this was the third consecutive time.

CCTV’s public service ads, when broadcast, display the production company on the screen. That’s why so many in the industry scramble to submit their work to CCTV. Though these ads aren’t paid, if chosen they’re played in rotation across all CCTV channels and time slots. With that kind of exposure, people would be willing to pay for the opportunity, let alone do it for free. To have ads broadcast nationwide on CCTV for free is, by any measure, an incredible bargain. After all, it’s the highest-rated platform in the country.

Unfortunately, CCTV’s standards are exceedingly strict. Not only are average works rejected, even those that seem highly creative are turned down so often it makes people question themselves.

If that were all, Manager Zhao might not have been so furious—CCTV’s harshness applies to all, not just them. But the truly humiliating part was that one of their competitors already had three ads accepted...