22. The Interview

In the fifth multimedia classroom, due to time constraints, Yang Fan decided to conduct group interviews of two or three people at a time.

He had already interviewed wave after wave of female students and was starting to suffer from aesthetic fatigue. When the final six candidates arrived, he simply told them all to come in together.

However, when Sun Xing and the others entered, Yang Fan’s eyes lit up. These six young women were stunning.

He didn't need to waste his breath explaining the nature of the work, the dress code, hours, or location, as he had already distributed promotional materials that covered all those details while they were waiting. He skipped straight to the point.

"Introduce yourselves: what is your major, age, hometown, and do you have any special talents?" Yang Fan asked, feeling weary. After interviewing so many people, the questions had become mechanical.

They gave brief introductions. They were all freshmen, so their schedules were naturally tighter than those of seniors, who were mostly focused on job hunting and had more free time. However, their external appearances were excellent. While Yang Fan didn't consider himself a shallow person, who doesn't appreciate beauty? He believed that when it came to true beauty, most people shared the same opinion.

This job really only required a good image; special talents were merely a bonus.

Although he had already decided to hire them in his heart, he couldn't make it look too easy, lest the young women misunderstand and think he had ulterior motives.

After a moment of thought, Yang Fan said, "You are all studying Chinese, specifically classical literature. Let each of you compose a poem."

Although Yang Fan had only finished middle school, his late grandfather had been educated in a private school, possessed beautiful calligraphy, and was deeply versed in traditional Chinese studies, especially the I Ching. Growing up under his grandfather’s tutelage, Yang Fan had developed a solid foundation in the classics, as well as a high level of proficiency in calligraphy and poetry.

The girls exchanged glances, feeling a bit nervous. Composing poetry on the spot was no easy feat. If they messed up, it would be embarrassing—like Xue Pan in *Dream of the Red Chamber*, whose poems were nothing more than clumsy rhymes about sorrow and buying peanut oil.

Ma Xiaoxiao, seeing the others remaining silent, raised her hand nervously. "What rhyme scheme should we use?"

"I'll compose one first, and you can respond to it," Yang Fan suggested.

"Alright!" the girls cheered.

It was surprising that this young boss, despite his age, knew how to compose poetry.

Yang Fan thought of Qin Xiaoyu and couldn't help but sigh inwardly. He recited a *Huan Xi Sha* on the spot.

"Wow, what a beautiful *Huan Xi Sha*!"
"The boss is impressive."

Yang Fan gestured for Ma Xiaoxiao to go next. She was stunned; she hadn't expected the boss's poetry to be of such high quality, and she found it difficult to follow up. After struggling for a moment, her eyes lit up.

"I'm from Hangzhou. Since you used the sorrow of love as a theme, I will respond with a poem about West Lake."

"An oath made across three lifetimes at the dawn of time, memories of the past are blurred, the Broken Bridge in the misty rain of the old West Lake."

Ma Xiaoxiao took a sip of water and continued: "Drifting like dust into the void, complex like a tangled, thinning web. I wonder if that person is still under the moon."

Yang Fan applauded. It was quite good.

Seeing Ma Xiaoxiao receive the boss's approval, Li Shasha was eager to try. "My turn, my turn! Boss, please give us a prompt."

Yang Fan thought for a moment and recited in a low voice: "The north wind scatters yellow leaves in the autumn sky, snow on the brows, mist in the eyes. Standing alone at dusk, my frame as thin as a string, gazing at the twilight clouds as they slowly fade. The voices of men are silent, a lone boat is moored."

Li Shasha recited the second half without hesitation: "Drifting in the sea of people, oblivious to the years, the night is fading, drunk into slumber. Deeply yearning, gazing at the moon across a thousand miles. I force my lingering sorrow onto the paper, the stationery is cold, the moonlight is freezing."

Poetry is addictive; Yang Fan would occasionally recite a verse for them to complete, or provide the first half and let them finish it. Everyone had a great time; the girls were so excited their faces turned rosy, and they even started competing to answer.

As time passed, Yang Fan checked his watch—it was already six in the evening.

"It’s getting late. I’m sorry, I tend to get carried away when talking about poetry and have taken up too much of your time."

"Not at all, we had a lot of fun too," Huang Qiong said with a smile, wrinkling her nose.

"Since it's this late, let me treat you all to dinner," Yang Fan said.

"Boss, you haven't told us if we passed yet," Chen Feifei protested.

"You passed, all of you. You can start tomorrow morning. Tomorrow is Saturday, and the Baoli Autumn Auction is taking place; you will join me there."

"Boss, will we get paid for that just like a regular workday?" Lin Miao quickly asked.

"Yes, it counts the same. One hundred per hour. On weekdays, your workplace is the cafeteria, and weekends will be arranged flexibly. If there is work, you will be paid," Yang Fan said.

"Yay! I can buy a new bag before the end of the year!" Li Shasha cheered.

"Boss, why did you choose us?" Sun Xing asked. She spoke rarely, but her words always hit the mark.

Yang Fan pondered for a moment and said, "A beauty pleases the eyes, a talented woman nourishes the soul. A woman who is both beautiful and talented—how could I not hire her?"

The girls cheered excitedly; Yang Fan's earnest flattery delighted them. In truth, they were about the same age as him; if Yang Fan hadn't dropped out of school, he would likely be a freshman just like them.

Huang Qiong shook Yang Fan's arm and asked, "Boss, boss, you said a beauty pleases the eyes and a talented woman nourishes the soul. What does a woman who is both beautiful and talented nourish?"

Yang Fan laughed heartily and said, "She nourishes the mind!"

After dinner, Yang Fan returned to the office space rented by the company. The security guard informed him that the supplies they ordered had arrived at the warehouse. Yang Fan rushed to check them: three thousand high-strength magnetic rods for mineral selection and a dozen tons of wire mesh to fence off the slag heap.

Once the slag heap was developed, there was no guarantee that others wouldn't try to sabotage it. The greedy would always covet silver. The people at the East Mountain Mine would be the first to cause trouble if they saw him making a fortune. That fat shopkeeper was no good.

When he recruited refugees later, he would form a "cudgel squad," issue each of them a flail, and beat anyone who dared to cause trouble. He was a member of the Jinyiwei now; he had to make good use of this status.

Right, he was also a Hundred-Household official. He needed to ask "the little lady" about where his territory was and where the military households were located.

Thinking of her, he suddenly felt a bit anxious. The fact that he had killed those Manchus was purely a matter of luck. In a one-on-one fight, ten Yang Fans would be dead. Since he had joined the Eastern Depot, he would inevitably be sent on missions, and Jizhen was a frontier town. Caught between the capital and the Manchus, internal strife and power struggles were unavoidable. Danger would always follow him. He had to think of a foolproof plan.

What kind of life-saving measures could he take?