In everyday life, we could often see monks and Daoist priests burning incense to honor the gods in Buddhist and Daoist temples, chanting scriptures and cultivating the Way all day amid curling incense smoke.
The "incense" used there could calm people, bring peace to their minds, and help them enter meditative concentration more quickly.
When Chen Jue had worked in Hangzhou, he had been a mid-level manager of some standing, specifically overseeing the company's back-end risk-control data. Whenever a few important documents needed approval from above, he would take them to the boss's office himself.
That wealthy company boss had enjoyed fine incense. He liked closing his office door and burning incense inside, occasionally lighting sandalwood, agarwood, or even something as expensive as ambergris. These were all premium fragrances costing thousands or tens of thousands per gram, a high-end pastime for wealthy city dwellers that ordinary people had no access to.
When Chen Jue occasionally delivered documents, he would flatter the boss's hobby by asking questions he already knew the answers to, chatting with him about his interests. He had thought this would leave a good impression and help him secure his footing in the company. That was how he had learned about the finer points of "incense" from the man.
But Chen Jue had still underestimated the power of cutthroat workplace competition. No amount of flattery had been worth a damn.
One day, that incense-loving boss could be cheerfully explaining the finer points of a newly purchased fragrance worth over ten thousand to him; a few days later, he could look as though his liabilities were about to exceed his assets, bankruptcy was imminent, and layoffs were unavoidable. He would then sit Chen Jue down for an earnest talk, saying the company was performing poorly and could no longer