Chapter 106: This Guy's Got Serious Luck!
Chapter 106: This Guy's Got Serious Luck!
March 16, Morning.
Inside the reception room.
Pei Qian looked at the name on the résumé and was momentarily dumbfounded.
He hadn’t expected someone to actually be named that.
Thankfully, the applicant had thoughtfully added a pronunciation guide.
“Ma Dubiao?” Pei Qian looked up at the story planner across from him—Huang Sibo’s referral.
Ma Yiqun nodded quickly. “Yes, President Pei. But you can just call me Ma Yiqun, that’s what everyone else calls me.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Pei Qian began scanning the résumé while Ma Yiqun sat quietly, patiently waiting.
In fact, Pei Qian hadn’t planned on hiring anyone else.
At the moment, they already had enough manpower to finish developing Game Producer.
Whether they’d need more people in the future, or even work on two games simultaneously… Pei Qian wasn’t too worried about that for now.
Still, since this guy was recommended by Huang Sibo, a longtime employee, Pei Qian felt obliged to at least conduct the interview.
If it turned out the guy was too good, he could always find some excuse to reject him.
He skimmed through the résumé quickly.
Hmm. On paper, nothing particularly impressive.
Just like Huang Sibo, only one previous job listed: both worked at Shangyang Games. Huang Sibo was the execution planner, and this guy—Ma Yiqun—was a story planner. Looked like a pair of fallen comrades.
Less than a year of experience. Pei Qian was actually quite satisfied with that part.
Otherwise, there wasn’t much else to see.
Following Huang Sibo’s advice, Ma Yiqun had written his résumé truthfully. And since there wasn’t much to write, it looked pretty bare.
After Pei Qian finished reading it, he thought, Not bad at all.
Huang Sibo’s desk had been empty lately anyway. Hiring one more guy wouldn’t really change anything. If this newbie just came in to coast for a while, that was perfectly fine.
But then… Pei Qian noticed something he didn’t like.
The guy’s education!
Huang Sibo had graduated from a regular university. Ma Yiqun, on the other hand, was a graduate of a Top 10 Chinese university, majoring in Chinese literature—perfectly suited for narrative design!
Anyone smart enough to get into that kind of school definitely wasn’t lacking in brainpower.
Just as Pei Qian was setting the résumé down, Ma Yiqun pulled out another stack of materials.
“President Pei, these are some short stories, essays, and fiction I’ve written. You’re welcome to take a look.”
Hmm?
Red flag!
Pei Qian’s guard shot up instantly. He took the stack and started flipping through it, his expression shifting subtly with each page.
Ma Yiqun started to feel nervous.
He had been worried President Pei would think he wasn’t special enough, so he’d printed out everything he’d written—college work, job-related writing, all of it—to try and boost his chances.
Normally, this kind of writing sample would be a huge plus when applying for a story design role.
Pei Qian flipped through the pages, and the more he read, the more relieved he felt.
Thank god he brought this stuff.
Otherwise, he might’ve actually hired him!
After skimming the materials, Pei Qian realized—this guy wasn’t as “basic” as his résumé had made him look.
His writing? Surprisingly good!
The prose flowed smoothly, the language was refined, and he clearly had a strong foundation in classical Chinese!
Some of the copywriting he’d done for Shangyang Games was genuinely eye-catching.
Pei Qian began to suspect that Ma Yiqun came from a scholarly family steeped in literary tradition.
Of course, he wasn’t some kind of writing god—not based on the limited samples here.
But still…
This guy cannot be hired.
This kind of person clearly didn't meet Tengda’s recruitment standards!
Pei Qian decided: he needed to find an excuse to reject Ma Yiqun.
But what excuse?
He glanced back over the résumé, hoping to nitpick some flaw.
Soon, something caught his eye:
Ma Yiqun had joined Shangyang Games in October of last year.
So… not immediately after graduation.
What had he been doing for the three or four months after finishing university?
Same as Huang Sibo—changing careers halfway through?
Or was there something else?
This might be the perfect reason to reject him.
“You joined Shangyang Games in October. Were you working somewhere else before that?” Pei Qian asked casually.
“Oh, no. After graduation, I was writing web novels. That’s why I missed the typical hiring season,” Ma Yiqun replied.
Writing web novels?
Warning signs detected!
Was this guy also a hidden multi-talented gem?
“Then why did you stop writing?” Pei Qian asked.
Ma Yiqun hesitated, then explained, “Well, President Pei…”
“I started writing during my senior year of university. At first, it was terrible—no recommendations, no readers—so I kept stopping and starting.”
“Toward the end of that year, I finally built a small audience. Still no formal promotion, but readers started spreading the word. I thought the numbers looked good enough for a solid launch. But when it finally went live… the first-day subscriptions were 30.”
“…” Pei Qian’s voice carried genuine sympathy. “Maybe the launch plot didn’t hit right? Why not start a new one?”
“I did. Not just once. I started three different novels. Each one had good pre-launch numbers. Each one flopped on launch day. Not a single one broke triple digits in first-day subscriptions. I wrote over a million words in total—all for nothing.”
“I was running out of money and nearly starving. I had no choice but to look for a job as a story planner,” Ma Yiqun said with a helpless expression.
Pei Qian squinted. “You… really stuck with it, huh? What did you write that pissed off readers so badly?”
Ma Yiqun gave a bitter smile. “I wish I knew.”
“Alright, you’re hired!” Pei Qian declared on the spot.
Forget all that nonsense. This was exactly the kind of person Pei Qian needed!
Ma Yiqun was stunned. He hadn’t expected such a decisive, straightforward offer from President Pei!
Could it be… President Pei really saw the brilliance in him?
Huang Sibo had said that President Pei has a very unique way of seeing people. He’s not just looking at resumes—he’s looking for something deeper. Hidden qualities.
Sometimes, he’d notice something about you even you didn’t realize.
And now, it seemed… that was absolutely true!
Pei Qian stood up. “Go finish the resignation paperwork. Talk to Assistant Xin later to sign the contract.”
“As for salary—we’ll start you off at 5.000 yuan a month. There’ll be room for raises later.”
. . . . . . . . . . .
As Pei Qian watched Ma Yiqun leave, he felt unusually pleased.
Sure, Ma Yiqun was fairly capable, and technically didn’t fit the “ideal Tengda employee” mold Pei Qian had in mind.
But the guy had managed to flop three web novels in a row!
That’s not something just anyone could pull off!
This had to be a sign of massive cosmic misfortune.
And that was exactly what Pei Qian needed right now!
He couldn’t help it—after encountering so many bizarre, inexplicable successes, Pei was starting to believe in this mystical stuff.
Sometimes he even wondered: was his own luck too good?
There was a saying in the jianghu:
When your luck becomes too strong, it stops being luck. It becomes fortune—qìyùn.
Luck only determines short-term success.
But qìyùn, fortune… that's like an aura. A field that constantly brings good things your way.
So, Pei Qian thought—why not bring in someone like Ma Yiqun, to balance things out?
Sure, the idea was totally superstitious, completely unscientific, and absolutely unreliable—but hey, trying wouldn’t hurt, right?
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