Chapter 2: That Streak of a Shooting Star

Wang Fan had been working at Jinwei Freight Forwarding Company for over a year. Excluding the miserable six months of internship and three months of probation, he had been working as a formal employee for over five months now. Last month was the first time he received his quarterly bonus. Wuu wuu wuu~~ Heavens! Earth! Which angel sister has manifested her grace! It had to be said that the boss of Jinwei Freight Forwarding was quite conscientious; if the company's performance was indeed good, he would take a portion of the net profit to distribute as quarterly bonuses to the employees. Of course, if performance was poor or the company suffered a loss, there would be no such money.

At a company meeting, all 42 employees were present without exception. The boss spoke "deeply": "I started this company to make money, which is beyond reproach, and you all come here to earn a salary, which is only natural, but these two goals are not unified."

"If they are not unified, you won't pull together as one rope; people will just act like monks hitting a bell for a day to collect a day's dead wage. How can we manage that? I believe in linking performance to every employee. Salespeople will have no base salary and will rely on commissions plus quarterly bonuses. The commission rate will increase progressively: if you complete 10,000 yuan in profit, I'll give you a 10% commission; if you complete 20,000 yuan, I'll give you 15%; if you complete 30,000 yuan, I'll give you [X]%, increasing all the way up to a maximum of 60% at the 110,000 yuan profit mark. This way, the more you complete, the more your commission doubles as it climbs."

"As for the second-line staff like accounting and the office, it will be a medium salary plus quarterly bonuses. If the company's performance is good, the bonus is high; if performance is bad, everyone will have to tighten their belts. Salaries will still support your families, of course. And if you spend frugally and don't buy things you shouldn't, saving profit through cost-cutting, I will also distribute that to everyone proportionally."

The result of this was that although Wang Fan had his own desk, it wasn't partitioned like in other companies (to save money), and although he had his own computer, it was an old piece of junk from five years ago. When he asked the accounting supervisor, the answer was: "What do you need a good computer for, just for Word and Excel? It works, so it's fine." He was weeping internally... *For the sake of last quarter's 2,000 to 3,000 yuan bonus, I will endure, I will endure, I will endure, endure, endure!!* Wang Fan thought.

The structure of Jinwei Company was very simple: nearly 30 salespeople, 6 sales secretaries (one person responsible for the order processing, space booking, container scheduling, and follow-up for 5 salespeople), 3 finance staff—namely Wang Fan, the accounting supervisor, and the accounting manager—plus 1 office staff, the boss, and a driver. Wang Fan's work was quite miscellaneous; he doubled as a cashier, an invoicing clerk, and a debt collector (via telephone). One of his major performance indicators was 90-day accounts receivable, 60-day accounts receivable, and 30-day accounts receivable. The boss's management goal was to resolutely eliminate the 90-day category, have some in the 60-day category, and ideally have everything in the 30-day category.

Aside from winning the Lotto, Wang Fan's other way to strike it rich was hoping to encounter a miraculous adventure or undergo a transmigration like the protagonists in fantasy novels. To this end, he often went to strange and peculiar places on weekends for field trips and exploration. As for high-risk activities like being struck by lightning, after repeated deliberation by his brain and careful simulation using high school physics, he had to give it up. Although he fantasized about transmigrating to another world, considering the 99.99% possibility of being charred to a crisp, Wang Fan wrote the following poem: *Life is precious, love is dear; if safety is the goal, transmigration I shall not fear!*

If the story continued like this, Wang Fan's life trajectory would basically be fixed in a set script: work honestly, live diligently, find a suitable partner (if anyone took a liking to him), grit his teeth and bleed money to buy a house in the suburbs, have a kid, become a dad, and blow out the candles every single night. But accidents always happen when one least expects them. June 1st, 2013, was a weekend, and parents in every household were taking their children out to celebrate or go on vacation.

Consequently, the mountains and rivers around Jinhai City and the various parks in the urban area were clogged with surging crowds. The lively, noisy crowds, the accents from all over the country, and the colorful, bright clothing made the entire city full of vitality and human warmth. Wang Fan decided to celebrate as well. Although June 1st, Children's Day, was somewhat unrefined and out of place for him, it was because he had a "big heart"—Lord Fan was forever sixteen.

At noon, on the large bus heading to Baotong, Wang Fan sat in a seat near the window in the middle of the bus. A cool breeze blew in through the open window, lightly brushing against faces and necks, flowing into the collars of T-shirts, and sending a refreshing sensation through his limbs and bones; it was quite pleasant.

"Hello, are you also going to Baotong?" a boy sitting next to Wang Fan asked.

"Ah, hello. Yes, going to Baotong. I want to go there to see some cultural relics and historical sites." Wang Fan turned his head and saw a boy about 175cm tall, around his age, wearing a checkered shirt and metal-rimmed glasses, looking quite scholarly and easy to approach.

"There aren't many historical sites in Baotong; it's just a small city. I only know that the donkey meat burgers there are quite famous. I plan to visit a classmate's house. Are you a university student?"

"I've been graduated for over a year, but I still have a bit of a student air about me. Which university are you at, and what year are you in?"

"Senior, hello! I'm a junior this year, at Jinhai University of Science and Technology, majoring in Mechanical Automation. Which university are you from, Senior?"

"Jinhai University of Finance and Economics. Haha, studying finance."

"Wow, could you tell me about the job hunting situation? I'll be a senior next year and will have to consider employment. With the expansion of enrollment these last few years, jobs are getting harder to find. What's the real situation like? How hard is it, and what do I need to prepare in advance?"

"Job hunting? How should I put it? Let's start with the resume. You must put heart into making your resume. Many students only spend one day making a resume but spend six months looking for a job, only for their resumes to be uninspiring and sink like stones into the ocean, being eliminated in the first round of screening..."

The two hours on the road felt short due to the friendly conversation with the junior. The sense of satisfaction from being a senior made Wang Fan enjoy himself immensely. The admiration flowing from the junior's eyes gave him a sense of spiritual self-actualization that his daily work and life lacked. A floating sensation emerged in Wang Fan's mind, to the point that after getting off the bus and saying goodbye to the boy, he remained lost in his own thoughts for a full minute.

"Sigh, what am I daydreaming about? Time to go see the relics," Wang Fan muttered to himself. This time, going to Baotong, Wang Fan mainly wanted to observe the site of the Baotong Army Officer School. It was the first modern officer school established by the Yanhuang nation in modern times before the founding of the Yanhuang Republic. In the early part of the last century, it produced many famous figures and veteran generals, though it later declined following the changing tides of history. However, its status as the first modern military institution of the Yanhuang nation was truly irreplaceable. Of course, its location was very close to Jinhai City with cheap transportation, which was also an important reason Wang Fan chose it.

The Baotong Army Officer School was divided into five departments: Infantry, Artillery, Cavalry, Engineers, and Logistics. It had a cumulative graduation of over 6,500 people, producing a group of famous generals. If counting from its predecessor, the Army Officer Academy, it had trained nearly ten thousand officers, of whom over 1,600 attained the rank of general. The predecessor was originally a Guandi Temple with a thousand acres of temple land and a hundred halls, which was later converted into a barracks. When the military school was built, it utilized the original temple land and requisitioned adjacent land.

The school was divided into four parts: the main campus, the branch campus (including the small training ground), the large drill ground, and the shooting range. The main campus was at the center, covering over 180 acres. Its architectural layout was modeled after Japanese officer schools, consisting of a solemn cluster of brick and tile buildings. It was surrounded by high walls on all four sides, with a river encircling the outside and rows of ancient willows along the riverbanks. The school gate was on the south side, facing a large screen wall across the river. The gatehouse was tall, with a width of three bays, looking magnificent. The vermilion-painted gate was decorated with copper nails and rings, and a horizontal plaque hanging above the lintel bore the six large characters: "Army Officer School." In front of the gate were high stone steps, and the southern road in front of the steps led straight to the riverbank. A pair of stone lions, over a meter tall, stood on both sides of the southern road. A flat bridge spanned the river to connect to the large drill ground. The main campus was divided into north and south courtyards. The north courtyard was the living area. The south courtyard was the hub and teaching area of the school, further divided into East, Middle, and West courtyards. The East and West courtyards were classrooms and student dormitories, each consisting of ten rows of blue-brick buildings with corridors. The layout was symmetrical, with corridors connecting the rows of buildings; every two rows formed an independent courtyard with moon-shaped gates, housing about one company of students, commonly known as a "company path." The Middle courtyard contained the school offices and the Shangwu Hall. The tall Shangwu Hall sat facing south with its back to the north, surrounded by stone railings, featuring carved beams and painted rafters in a grand style. On both sides of the hall doors were couplets reading: "The father's Yin Fu and the Marquis's strategies form a hall of refined study; with ambitions to serve the country and hair tied for military service, the many students look toward this hope."

A long corridor led from the front of the hall directly to the school gate. North of the Shangwu Hall was a large empty courtyard. Inside the courtyard stood two ancient poplars, over five meters tall, with a bronze bell hanging between them. Because the officials often gave speeches and issued orders here, this place was regarded as the hub of the entire school. To the east of the main campus was the branch campus, covering 92 acres. The shooting range was north of the branch campus, covering over 330 acres. The large drill ground was shaped like a "[", guarding the main campus from the north, west, and south, covering over 880 acres, with the western side being the largest. Unfortunately, due to successive wars, only the site of the military school remained. The carriers of that former glory no longer existed; only a piece of land remained. The buildings here now were all newly built, including the school gate, east and west side rooms, east and west auxiliary rooms, east and west wing rooms, the Shangwu Hall (Principal's office), and some school buildings.

"To live as a hero, and to die as a legendary ghost," Wang Fan murmured, looking at the current blue bricks and gray tiles. As an otaku, Wang Fan didn't like lolis and hated "moe" acting; he believed being an otaku just meant not liking exercise and enjoying delusions, but it didn't mean one had low integrity or small ambitions. Although there was no actual war now, economic warfare had replaced physical conquest, with constant, smokeless back-and-forth everywhere, manifesting as economic fluctuations, highs and lows in income, and the bumps and bruises of employment—so hard, so tiring. If asked what Wang Fan wanted to do most, he would surely say, "Spend money, spend money without restraint." How wonderful it would be if he no longer had to calculate rent, water, electricity, or gas, and could buy anything he wanted. Standing by the only remaining site of the school gate, Wang Fan stared blankly with lifeless eyes. The surroundings were quiet, without a single person. The exposure of this place in the Yanhuang Nation was very low; there were no tourists, only the silent sound of the wind and swaying branches to accompany him. Suddenly, a small black dot appeared in his field of vision, coming from far to near, approaching rapidly. Without reaction or movement, Wang Fan was struck by it—blackout, dizziness, and a fall. *Am I about to transmigrate?* This was the last thought of the dimwit Wang Fan before he lost consciousness.