Who Let Him Cultivate？

Chapter 71: Genuine Sincerity

“The passing condition for the second trial is to make the examiner ‘sincerely and genuinely’ want to keep me?” Meng Jingzhou mentally reviewed the parameters of the test.

“What an eccentric metric. Doesn’t sound too difficult, though.”

“But where exactly am I?” Meng Jingzhou sat on a row of polished wooden benches. Four people sat ahead of him, five behind. A neat group of ten, with him perfectly centered.

“Ah. I’m a prospective hire at a merchant guild.” The background lore provided by the Immortal Cult seamlessly integrated into his consciousness.

Meng Jingzhou stared at the pristine white wall opposite him. Without thinking, his right hand twitched. His middle and ring fingers curled inward in a familiar, esoteric mudra.

Nothing shot out.

“Huh? Why did I just do that?” Meng Jingzhou blinked in mild confusion. He had no memory of developing such a bizarre physical tic.

“Whatever. Focus on the interview.”

He watched as the first candidate entered the examiner’s office, only to sprint out moments later, dash away, and then sprint back in. The man repeated this frantic relay three or four times.

Meng Jingzhou, brimming with unearned confidence, called out, “Hey, brother! What’s with the wind sprints? Is the examiner testing your physical metrics? If so, you really need better footwear. Aerodynamic drag is a serious issue. Also, your starting posture is all wrong. You need to crouch, plant both hands on the floor, and coil your spine. That maximizes explosive kinetic output! Trust me, I’m an expert at running away—”

The man shot Meng Jingzhou a look reserved for village idiots, ignored the unsolicited coaching, and bolted outside to inspect the quality of the local potatoes.

The rules were absolute: candidates were strictly forbidden from leaking the interview questions to one another.

The first candidate, the second, the third, the fourth—every single one of them ran their laps with commendable corporate diligence. Naturally, every single one of them failed. Pass or fail, candidates vanished the moment their interview concluded. This spatial displacement ensured the remaining applicants couldn’t deduce whether the key performance indicator was a high or low number of sprints.

“Next! Meng Jingzhou!” the portly examiner bellowed from within the office.

“Present and highly motivated!” Meng Jingzhou strode into the room, radiating proactive synergy.

The plump examiner offered a practiced, thoroughly corporate smile. “Meng Jingzhou, I need you to go down to the market and see if anyone is selling potatoes.”

Meng Jingzhou didn’t move a muscle.

Assuming the candidate was simply slow on the uptake, the examiner repeated the directive, enunciating every syllable.

This time, Meng Jingzhou responded. “Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’?” The examiner’s smile faltered, his brain failing to process Meng Jingzhou’s disruptive logic.

“I mean, why should I go to the market to check on potatoes? Do you even know what we’re doing here?”

“We are conducting an interview,” the examiner stated, as if speaking to a toddler.

“Exactly! You said it yourself. This is an interview, not a personal errand service. Furthermore, didn’t you just ask the exact same question to the four guys before me?”

“You asked four times, got four answers, and you’re still not satisfied? You want a fifth opinion on the local starch market?”

The examiner ground his teeth, forcing a veneer of patience. “It is a situational assessment.”

“Oh.” Meng Jingzhou nodded sagely. He dutifully left the room, took a stroll to the market, and returned. “Yes. They are selling potatoes.”

“And what is the total inventory of these potatoes?”

Meng Jingzhou, lacking this specific data point, stood up to leave. The examiner’s lips curled into a cold, triumphant sneer. Just you wait, you mouthy brat. The second you step out that door to check, I’m failing you for inefficiency.

But as Meng Jingzhou pulled the door open, he didn’t leave. Instead, an elderly farmer was standing right there in the hallway. Meng Jingzhou casually leaned against the doorframe and asked, “Hey, old man, what’s the total yield in your cart?”

“Eighty pounds,” the farmer replied promptly.

Meng Jingzhou turned back to the examiner, his expression a mask of helpful synergy. “He says he has eighty pounds. Would you like to inquire about the price per pound next?”

The examiner opened his mouth, but the words died in his throat. Even if he asked, the farmer was standing right there and would answer immediately. The entire psychological framework of the multi-step fetch-quest had been utterly shattered!

“Why in the heavens did you bring the vendor into the office?!” the examiner roared, his corporate composure disintegrating. How was he supposed to evaluate upward management now?!

Meng Jingzhou spread his hands in a gesture of pure innocence. “I asked him if a bunch of guys had been sprinting over to interrogate him about his stock. The old man started complaining. He said four different lunatics ran over, stared at his potatoes, and ran away. Then they ran back to ask the total weight, and ran away again. Then they ran back to ask the price, all without buying a single thing.”

“So I asked him, ‘Do you want to meet the middle-management culprit who’s wasting your time without making a purchase?’ He said yes. So, I brought him straight to the source. Streamlined communication!”

The examiner: “…”

The examiner stared at him, utterly paralyzed. There was no protocol for this. The manual did not cover candidates weaponizing the local populace.

Boiling with rage at Meng Jingzhou’s blatant insubordination, the examiner slammed his hand onto his desk. “You utterly fail to comprehend the strategic vision of your superiors! You are elimi—”

Before the examiner could finish his termination speech, Meng Jingzhou’s foot lashed out, planting a solid, Qi-infused kick squarely into the man’s gut.

“Strategic vision, my ass! Who do you think you are, you bloated bureaucrat!”

Having delivered his disruptive feedback, Meng Jingzhou bolted out the door.

The examiner erupted, his aura flaring as he pulverized his mahogany desk with a single palm strike. “YOU GET BACK HERE AND LET ME KILL YOU!”

The examiner sincerely and genuinely wanted to keep Meng Jingzhou from leaving.

Meng Jingzhou passed the trial.

……

In the observation realm, the Deputy Cult Leader massaged his throbbing temples. What in the name of the abyss was this passing methodology?

He had specifically designed the “sincere and genuine” metric to prevent candidates from taking shortcuts or bribing the examiner. He had thought his parameters were airtight. He never anticipated a candidate utilizing aggravated assault as a career development tool.

The examiner didn’t just sincerely want to keep Meng Jingzhou; he sincerely wanted to tear Meng Jingzhou’s spine out through his throat.

How is this boy’s brain wired? the Deputy Cult Leader wondered despairingly. Or is it me? Am I the one lacking cognitive function?

“O Indestructible Immortal, deathless and eternal, grant me wisdom,” the Deputy Cult Leader muttered, praying to their primordial deity for a sliver of sanity.

The Cult Leader interrupted his subordinate’s existential crisis. “It would be quite convenient if the Indestructible Immortal could actually hear you.”

The Deputy Cult Leader didn’t take this as blasphemy. He knew the Cult Leader was the most fanatically devout believer in the entire Immortal Cult. He merely sighed. “How many times have we attempted the resurrection rites? We fail at every turn. If we could just revive the Indestructible Immortal, what would the Great Xia Dynasty matter? What would the so-called righteous sects matter? None could stand against such cosmic grandeur!”

“Only a true blood sacrifice can bridge the gap to the Indestructible Immortal.”

Setting aside their apocalyptic ambitions for the moment, the Deputy Cult Leader gestured to the scrying projection. “What is your assessment of this Meng Jingzhou?”

The Cult Leader clicked his tongue in profound admiration. “He completely bypassed traditional operational frameworks. A true disruptive talent.”

Inwardly, the Cult Leader wiped away a bead of sweat. Thank the heavens I didn’t agree with the Deputy earlier when he said there was no other way to pass. I would have looked like an absolute amateur.

“You consider that talent?” the Deputy Cult Leader asked, incredulous.

“Absolutely. I firmly believe our Immortal Cult is in desperate need of out-of-the-box thinkers. We need dynamic synergy!”

“Look at the righteous path’s Dao Seeking Sect. Why have they maintained market dominance for millennia? I’ve run the analytics, and the primary driver of their success is that they possess a brand of ‘wisdom’ utterly incomprehensible to ordinary mortals.”

The Deputy Cult Leader’s mouth twitched. The Cult Leader truly is a master of rhetoric, he thought. Only he could rebrand ‘clinical insanity’ as ‘incomprehensible wisdom.’

“With the right mentorship,” the Cult Leader continued, his eyes gleaming with corporate ambition, “this Meng Jingzhou could become a core asset to the Immortal Cult. A foundational pillar of our future operations!”

“Speaking of Meng Jingzhou, what about his associate? The one who demonstrated such… unique metrics in the first trial. Lu Yang, was it? How is his performance review coming along?”

……

Meanwhile, in a parallel illusion…

“Make the examiner ‘sincerely and genuinely’ want to keep me?”

Lu Yang analyzed the parameters with deadpan efficiency. “What’s so difficult about that? I just need to kick the examiner in the stomach. Better yet, spit right in his face. That’s a guaranteed aggro-pull. He won’t just want to keep me in the room; he’ll want to keep my corpse as a trophy.”

He shook his head, dismissing the optimal strategy. “No, that methodology is far too barbaric. Only an uncultured brute like Meng Jingzhou would resort to such crude physical exploits. I am a civilized intellectual. I must find a more refined loophole.”