Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing sought advice from He Jianping on résumé writing techniques. Afterward, they went home to carefully work on it. Since it was a group résumé, it needed to incorporate both of them, so they agreed to start by writing their own parts.
At home, Chu Qianli found that writing a résumé was even more exhausting than studying. She dawdled and struggled for a long time before finally giving up and rushing out of her bedroom.
“Brother! Brother!” Chu Qianli leaned over the second-floor railing, looking down urgently for He Shichen.
He Shichen was sitting in the living room. Hearing her suddenly adopt a sycophantic tone, he raised his head impatiently. “What now? Ran out of money again?”
“No, no!” Chu Qianli’s eyes darted around nervously. “Do you know how to write a résumé?”
He Shichen: “?”
He Shichen asked suspiciously, “What do you need a résumé for?”
Chu Qianli chuckled awkwardly. “Haha… If I say it’s for a special talent selection program, would you believe me?”
“…”
He Shichen didn’t bother digging into what was so “special” about this talent selection. But since it sounded legitimate, he helped Chu Qianli polish her résumé and filtered out any irrelevant information.
Looking at the new résumé on the screen, Chu Qianli rubbed her chin and muttered, “Doesn’t this look a bit plain? Can’t it be artistically embellished?”
He Shichen replied coldly, “If you dare falsify anything for a university special talent selection, are you trying to get yourself killed? If they find out, you’ll have no school to go to.”
“…Or were you planning to use this as an excuse to avoid school altogether?” He Shichen glanced at Chu Qianli suspiciously.
Feeling guilty, Chu Qianli laughed nervously, grabbed her résumé, and ran back to her room to tweak it herself. He Shichen’s wording was formal, but it didn’t include things like Ziwei Astrology, which she had to add herself.
Not long after, Tan Muxing sent over his résumé. Unlike He Jianping’s suggestion to tie it to Qian Sect, Tan Muxing kept his tone low-key and conservative. It actually seemed quite decent, likely because of his interest in design. He had participated in several exhibitions and events related to religious art and aesthetics.
Thinking about Tan Muxing’s design style, Chu Qianli understood. He didn’t believe in any of this, but he appreciated artistic beauty.
The two combined their résumés and sent them to He Jianping, bracing themselves for the outcome. They felt it was a bit absurd and had no idea if it would pass.
Fortunately, He Jianping didn’t say their résumés were rejected outright. He soon received a notification that they were required to attend a written test and an interview.
—
On the weekend, in front of an inconspicuous office building in the city, Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing, each carrying a backpack, met up at the destination.
The roads in the core city area were relatively narrow. Chu Qianli looked around and remarked, “This really feels like a special talent test, or maybe an art exam?”
Tan Muxing stiffly replied, “They won’t test fortune-telling, will they? I really don’t know how to do that.”
“Don’t panic, let’s cast a hexagram.” Chu Qianli tried to reassure her deskmate, and she performed a quick divination on the spot. But her expression soon turned grim, and she stammered, “Oh no, it doesn’t look good. I shouldn’t have done that…”
Chu Qianli never cast hexagrams before academic exams, mainly because she feared bad results would mess up her mindset. She thought divination couldn’t fail, so she dared to do a pre-test reading. Unexpectedly, it turned into a major setback.
Tan Muxing was taken aback. “Isn’t this what you’re best at?”
“But the exam results don’t look good. Some energies on the star chart are overwhelming, and it feels like the examiners are very unusual…” Chu Qianli stared blankly at the office building, recalling He Jianping’s hiring requirements. Suddenly, she caught onto a clue.
After a moment of thought, Chu Qianli became dejected. “I think I might not be able to earn this money.”
Tan Muxing, who had been nervous himself, was even more unsettled after hearing her divination. He tried to comfort her. “We’re already here; let’s give it a shot, right?”
Chu Qianli opened her mouth to explain but was distracted by the sight of a sports car pulling in at the street corner. Her attention was immediately drawn away.
The red sports car was striking on the street, but even more eye-catching was the curly-haired beauty stepping out of it. She parked the car neatly in a roadside spot, carrying a designer bag in one hand and car keys in the other, striding confidently toward the office building like a runway model. She was absolutely dazzling.
Tan Muxing noticed that Chu Qianli was distracted. Following her gaze, he asked curiously, “What’s wrong?”
With an earnest appreciation for beauty, Chu Qianli said longingly, “Wow, a rich lady, a beautiful sister.”
Tan Muxing: “?”
As Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing headed into the building, they unexpectedly found themselves sharing the same path with the woman from the sports car.
The three of them entered the building together, crossed the lobby together, and even ended up taking the same elevator and pressing the button for the same floor.
The curly-haired woman, with her immaculate makeup and exquisite appearance, adjusted her oversized sunglasses. A small bell on her wrist jingled softly as she moved. She began observing the other two people in the elevator.
Tan Muxing felt uncomfortable under her direct scrutiny. Shifting his gaze uneasily, he chose to look at Chu Qianli instead.
Chu Qianli, however, was unbothered. She stared straight back at the curly-haired woman without hesitation.
The woman studied them for a while before speaking with surprise, breaking the silence with a smile. “This is rare—I don’t often see female colleagues. I’m so tired of always running into male Taoists.”
Chu Qianli replied, “I don’t often meet big sisters, either.”
The curly-haired woman removed her sunglasses, revealing upward-tilted eyeliner and bright eyes. Extending her hand, she introduced herself, “Mei Rujing.”
Chu Qianli shook her hand politely and responded, “Chu Qianli.”
Mei Rujing said, “I’m not some ‘big sister.’ If I really put in some effort, my daughter would probably only be a little younger than you.”
Chu Qianli replied matter-of-factly, “Anyone who’s beautiful and rich is a big sister. Age has nothing to do with it.”
Mei Rujing was amused by her comment. Then, glancing at Tan Muxing, she remarked casually, “I won’t shake hands with your friend. I’m a bit misandrist.”
“Ah, okay, sorry.” Tan Muxing wasn’t offended. He simply moved closer to Chu Qianli, politely maintaining some distance from Mei Rujing.
Although Mei Rujing was well-dressed in luxurious clothing and clearly took good care of herself, she seemed approachable and found Chu Qianli rather interesting.
“Is big sister also here…” Chu Qianli paused, choosing her words carefully, “…for the interview?”
Mei Rujing nodded. “Yes, I was referred by someone.”
Recalling the result of her earlier divination, Chu Qianli hesitated and asked, “Aren’t you afraid of being targeted in a sting operation?”
Mei Rujing chuckled. “What’s there to be afraid of? Qianshan Taoist Temple is a nationally renowned Taoist site and a protected historical monument. If anything happens, it’d be with that place first. Why would they target people like us who don’t even believe in religion?”
Having worked in the field for years, Mei Rujing seemed to have a family background in the trade. She belonged to the minority of metaphysics researchers who didn’t hold religious beliefs.
The elevator arrived at their floor, and the doors opened. Mei Rujing waved goodbye. “Nice meeting you both, but we’ll be competitors in a moment.”
Since everyone was there for the money, it was natural that they would compete against one another.
Watching her leave, Chu Qianli murmured, “How rare—she doesn’t even believe in religion.”
Tan Muxing asked, “Are we going to compete with her in fortune-telling later?”
“I don’t know. I have no idea what the test will be about.” Chu Qianli smiled. “But if it’s fortune-telling, I won’t lose.”
“…Didn’t you just say the results earlier weren’t good?”
Chu Qianli stammered, “Uh, well…”
Chu Qianli had hesitated outside the building earlier because she realized this might be tied to an official institution, making her nervous. However, seeing how calm Mei Rujing was reassured her—it seemed unlikely they’d be arrested in broad daylight.
Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing initially thought they’d have to engage in some kind of showdown with Mei Rujing and the others. Instead, after signing in with the staff, they were quickly led to a quiet exam room.
The seating in the exam room was widely spaced. There weren’t many candidates, but some were dressed in unusual attire, like Taoist robes.
At the front of the room, someone was reading an announcement: “Please turn off your phones and leave them with your bags outside. The exam will begin shortly. We will now go over the exam rules. Candidates must follow the exam regulations and comply with the proctors’ instructions…”
Before entering, Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing had expected to see rivals debating or testing their skills. Instead, they found Mei Rujing sitting calmly at her desk, waiting for the test to start. The other candidates also seemed uneasy, fidgeting in their seats with visible anxiety.
Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing, who practiced mock exams at school every day, were well-versed in exam procedures. They obediently followed the rules, chose their seats, and placed their IDs on the corner of the desk.
When the bell rang, the room fell silent, and the test booklets were handed out.
Chu Qianli picked up the thick booklet. As soon as she flipped through a few pages, she felt a wave of dizziness, suddenly realizing why her earlier divination predicted a bad outcome!
She might not lose at fortune-telling, but this wasn’t a fortune-telling exam!
The test had an overwhelming number of questions, mostly fill-in-the-blank, with very few multiple-choice questions—clearly designed to prevent any shortcuts from “masters.”
“The Cold Food Festival is traditionally observed one or two days before the Qingming Festival. This commemorates ____ from the Spring and Autumn Period.”
“If July 10, 2017, was a Wednesday, then August 10, 2018, would be ____.”
Chu Qianli: “?” Is this an exam on metaphysics?
Frantically flipping through the booklet, Chu Qianli found that the test covered everything from astronomy to geography. At the end, there was even an essay question based on provided materials, with the topic: “Advancing the Development of Western Regions to Form a New Landscape.”
“…If not for the unfamiliar exam setting, I’d think these were college entrance exam questions,” Chu Qianli thought, finding the format eerily similar to the comprehensive liberal arts exam with its current affairs focus.
During the test, Chu Qianli felt completely overwhelmed—dizzy, bewildered, and utterly at a loss.
When the exam ended, Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing left the exam room, relieved to finally escape the scene of their suffering.
Like a wilted eggplant, Chu Qianli trailed behind Tan Muxing with a dejected expression, lamenting pitifully, “I don’t want a job anymore. Job hunting is so hard! It’s even harder than studying. Suddenly, I think staying in school is great…”
“I can’t earn this money. I really can’t earn this money…” she repeated, utterly defeated.
Tan Muxing was surprised. “It wasn’t that bad, was it? A lot of the earlier questions were about folk customs. I think you could’ve answered most of them.”
Chu Qianli groaned, “But I don’t know how to write the big questions! School exams never tested us like this!”
As the two stood by the roadside venting about the exam, they happened to run into Mei Rujing as she exited the building.
Mei Rujing, who had been full of confidence and enthusiasm before the exam, now looked equally disheartened and dazed. She asked, “Did you guys manage to do it?”
Chu Qianli answered honestly, “A little. How about you?”
“Funny. You say ‘a little,’ but I couldn’t do it at all,” Mei Rujing replied, running her hands through her hair in frustration. Looking the two of them over, she suddenly realized, “Oh, right. You’re probably high school students, which means you’re at the peak of human intelligence. After the college entrance exams, it all goes downhill.”
“I study Plum Blossom Divination, so did I come here to take a civil service exam?”
Tan Muxing whispered, “…There were questions on the I Ching earlier.”
Mei Rujing said indignantly, “I study divination techniques, but the test covered I Ching topics like astronomy, geography, military strategy, arithmetic, music theory, and phonetics. The scope is ridiculously broad!”
Chu Qianli tried to comfort her: “The Tao of the I Ching is vast and all-encompassing.”
The group stood at the entrance, complaining about the absurdity of the test for quite some time. Eventually, they all left disheartened. The high salary advertised truly represented an impossible task—just the written test alone likely filtered out countless metaphysics researchers across the nation.
On the way back, Chu Qianli closed her eyes peacefully, drained of energy, and lamented, “I guess I still need to go to college. The ‘university of society’ is even scarier than a regular university. I haven’t been hit this hard in ages…”
Chu Qianli had always considered herself the best in her field, but she hadn’t anticipated being disqualified by other requirements.
Tan Muxing chuckled helplessly, “Go back and study hard. There’ll be other opportunities.”
Having suffered a heavy blow in the written test, Chu Qianli returned to school and genuinely buckled down, focusing on mastering knowledge about western development in China. Her newfound determination wasn’t about proving herself academically but more about regaining her pride. It was one thing to be weak in other subjects, but losing in a metaphysics-related exam was a once-in-a-lifetime humiliation for her.
Both believed the matter was settled, but soon after, they surprisingly received an interview notice, saying they had advanced to the second round.
Chu Qianli was shocked. “But I clearly calculated that I did poorly on the test…”
“Maybe it’s a case of ‘the best of the worst,’” Tan Muxing speculated. “Remember, that Mei Rujing we met last time didn’t know how to answer anything.”
Regardless of the final outcome, Chu Qianli making it to the second round somewhat restored her self-esteem. At least she was better than many of her peers. This time, she didn’t dare recklessly perform divinations, fearing that knowing the outcome in advance might affect her performance in the interview.
Tan Muxing accompanied her to the office building for the second round. As they were part of a group resume submission, only one representative needed to be interviewed, while the others waited outside.
Chu Qianli knocked on the door and entered first. Tan Muxing held onto her bag and sat quietly in the waiting room.
“Chu Qianli, is it?”
After she greeted him upon entering, the interviewer, a white-haired, scholarly gentleman, spoke first. He smiled kindly and said, “Take a seat anywhere.”
Chu Qianli thanked him and sat down obediently. She glanced around the room, noting the ordinary office setting. The bookshelves were stacked with books and folders, giving the place a professional but unremarkable feel.
“I see you mentioned being a disciple of Chu Yilie?” The older man glanced at her resume and asked curiously, “Where’s he living now? I haven’t seen him in years.”
Chu Qianli hadn’t expected her grandfather to be so well-known. She answered honestly, “Underground.”
The old man froze for a moment before realizing what she meant. After a pause, he sighed wistfully, “Ah, I see. Yes, it’s been many years…”
“No matter,” he said, quickly regaining his composure. “Let’s get back to the main topic. Tell me a bit about what you’re good at.”
Chu Qianli hesitated. “I can talk, but it seems like you’ve already made up your mind…”
Although she deliberately avoided performing divinations, she could already tell there was no hope as soon as she entered the room.
The old man chuckled. “Did you calculate the outcome in advance?”
“It wasn’t intentional divination. I just can’t help interpreting certain information when I see it,” Chu Qianli muttered. Sometimes, without consciously performing divinations, she could sense things intuitively—an uncontrollable flow of external information.
The old man seemed to understand. “Ah, that’s normal. It means you’re particularly sensitive to external signs. Just looking at your face, I can tell you’re especially accurate in your readings.”
“Earlier, there was a young woman who studies Plum Blossom Divination. She sat down for less than a minute before leaving, saying it was already decided and there was no need to waste time. She’s probably also very attuned to external signs.”
External signs, or omens, are subtle cues that serve as indicators during divination. They could include things like a sudden breeze, falling leaves, or the sound of laughter or a rooster crowing—essentially, signs outside the hexagram itself.
Hearing this, Chu Qianli realized the old man was far more experienced than he appeared. She couldn’t help but admire him. “You’re really good at wording things…”
Low EQ: “You have the look of someone who’ll die young.”
High EQ: “I can tell from your face that your readings are exceptionally accurate.”
The old man laughed. “Are you in a hurry? If so, we can skip the formalities since you already know the outcome.”
“I’m not in a rush…” Chu Qianli pursed her lips, hesitating for a moment before boldly asking, “But can I ask you a few questions?”
“Of course. What would you like to ask?”
“Don’t you think your requirements are too strict? You prefer candidates with experience in civil engineering and similar projects. Even the written test covered that kind of knowledge…” Chu Qianli grumbled. “Although it says ‘preferred’ and not ‘mandatory,’ is there anyone who actually meets all these conditions?”
Chu Qianli simply couldn’t understand how anyone could meet such stringent criteria. Even Tan Muxing had been baffled after reading the requirements.
The old man seemed surprised by her question. He replied calmly, “Of course, there are. I’m one of them.”
Chu Qianli: “?”
The old man remained composed. “I don’t have any religious beliefs, don’t participate in religious activities, and am not a religious professional. I came here as a consultant to help out. My main job is as a philosophy professor at a university.”
“Studying this material isn’t wrong. I even wrote a book on it. Here, I can give you a copy.” He opened a drawer, pulled out a new book, and handed it to Chu Qianli.
Chu Qianli accepted it with both hands and thanked him. She glanced at the cover. The title was A New Interpretation of the I Ching, authored by Pan Yicheng.
Pan Yicheng smiled. “I worked in civil engineering when I was younger, but now I focus on teaching. Your teacher used to call me ‘The Recluse of the Wild Hall,’ but everyone just calls me Professor Pan now. I teach the philosophical principles of the I Ching.”
Chu Qianli: “???” There’s actually a career path like this?!
