The day of the interview.
Afraid that his mother's and Aunt Xuan's expectations would put too much pressure on him, and afraid of putting them through an emotional roller coaster, Dong Xuebin had never dared tell either of them about the interview. After drinking a bowl of porridge that morning to fill his stomach, he secretly tucked his admission ticket, ID card, and other documents into his pocket, took a bus out, and headed alone for the "battlefield."
Baiyun Times Building.
The twenty-second floor was lined with offices of various sizes, each door bearing a sign: Earthquake Administration, Customs, and so on. After asking a passing attendant for directions, Dong Xuebin followed where she pointed all the way to the end of the hall. Only then did he find Room 2216 in an inconspicuous corner. There was no sign for the Personnel Bureau or Political Department—just an A4 sheet of paper taped to the center of the door with the words "Waiting Room" written on it.
The door stood wide open, and the smell of smoke drifted out from inside.
Checking the time, Dong Xuebin saw that there were still more than ten minutes before nine. Nervously clenching his fist, he knocked twice on the doorframe.
"Come in." It was a man's gruff voice.
"Hello, I'm Dong Xuebin. I'm here for today's interview."
"Oh, let me see your documents."
Two middle-aged men in casual clothes sat behind the desk. One was around forty-five and tall; the other was fifty and short. After confirming Dong Xuebin's admission ticket, they waved for him to sit. There was only one empty chair outside the desk, directly facing the two men, and it was noticeably lower than theirs. Once Dong Xuebin sat upright, he felt even more nervous. His heart thumped relentlessly in his chest.
Before long, a middle-aged woman came in from outside. She nodded to the tall and short men, then took a seat behind the desk.
"Looks like it's about time." The tall man took out a stack of documents. "Shall we begin?"
Dong Xuebin stiffly forced out a single word. "...Okay."
It was no wonder he was uneasy. He had thought that, based on his written-test scores in the Administrative Aptitude Test and essay exam, he could rank in the top three among the fresh graduates applying to the State Security Bureau. But during that phone call, he had learned from someone in the Political Department that he was ranked fourth. In other words, he was the fourth person to be interviewed. If he answered even one question poorly, there was a strong chance that fifth and sixth place would overtake him and take his spot.
There were only four openings at the State Security Bureau this time.
One wrong step, and the whole game would be lost. Dong Xuebin was now facing the greatest challenge of his life.
Over there, the three examiners exchanged glances. In the end, the tall man cleared his throat and asked solemnly, "What are your views on this year's stock market?"
Here it comes, here it comes.
Dong Xuebin's mind raced. He had traded stocks before, back when his family still had money, playing around with them for a while together with Mom. So he knew a little about them. On top of that, the TV news often mentioned market trends and the like. There were plenty of angles from which he could answer, but just as he was about to speak, he remembered something Grandpa Hu had told him earlier: never underestimate any question; each one had a deeper meaning behind it.
That was close. I nearly started analyzing market trends.
What they wanted to assess probably wasn't whether I knew how to trade stocks, but something else.
Dong Xuebin steadied himself and began after a brief pause. "In the first half of the year, the overall market performed well and showed a steady upward trend. I believe this is both a good thing and a bad thing. From an economic perspective..." Starting from the stock market, he branched into an analysis of the national economy. This was knowledge he had crammed over the past half month, and it happened to come in handy. Of course, it was not exactly an outstanding answer. He was merely copying the form from textbooks, but at least it was solid and proper. There should not have been any obvious mistakes.
It was best to stay conservative. As long as he held onto fourth place, this Civil Servants position would be his.
"...That concludes my answer." Two minutes later, Dong Xuebin let out a long breath.
The tall man looked at him. "That's all?"
Dong Xuebin froze. "...That's all." What did that mean? Was my answer off-topic?
The tall man said nothing more. Together with the short man and the middle-aged woman, he scribbled something on the desk, apparently writing evaluations. Then the tall man flipped through the file in his hands and asked flatly, "If you were a Civil Servant, and grassroots units often submitted many opinions to you through the internet, what would you do?"
Dong Xuebin considered for a few seconds. Suddenly, a standard answer pattern he had memorized the day before yesterday flashed through his mind—the kind of empty, grandiose response template. It seemed suitable here, so he immediately broke it apart and put it back together in his head. "At present, the internet has become an important channel for gathering public opinion and reflecting public sentiment. Grassroots units can use the internet to submit their opinions to higher authorities and report problems in a timely manner. As a higher-level authority, we can respond conveniently and swiftly..." He threw out a long string of words as though reciting a text. Two minutes passed. "...That concludes my answer."
The tall man shook the file. "Just that?"
Still not enough?
Dong Xuebin blinked gloomily and simply pulled another section from the passages he had memorized. "If the opinions raised by grassroots units concern our work attitude or our methods, I will gather those opinions, convene a departmental meeting, actively correct our work attitude and methods, and provide good service. If the grassroots units..." He spoke for another two minutes.
The woman and the short man kept their heads down, writing.
The tall man asked in the same tone, "Nothing else?"
The female examiner frowned and tilted her head to glance at the tall man, but said nothing.
The short man remained as calm as a mountain, tapping his fountain pen against the desk. From beginning to end, he rarely looked up.
"...No, that's all." Dong Xuebin's frustration was beyond words.
The same thing happened with the next several questions. Dong Xuebin felt that he had answered fairly appropriately, but for some reason, the tall man always followed up with something like, "That's all? Finished? Just that? What else? Nothing more?" It was as if Dong Xuebin's answers had been terrible. Never mind how well he had answered—just the tall man's tone alone could easily mislead and affect the other two examiners' scores.
Damn, who did I offend? Why was he choking me like this?
Were all Civil Servants interviews like this? No, that couldn't be right. He had never heard anyone mention it.
Dong Xuebin's heart sank. He knew this interview might very well end badly for him. Sensitive as he was, he could even detect a hint of deliberate obstruction in the tall man's manner of speaking.
This is bad.
Something's going wrong!!!
Before you continue