“Not that exaggerated,” Su Wei murmured, skepticism flickering in her eyes.
“How not? You have no idea how much of a stir our ‘SkyEye Bug Finder’ caused in the industry. Plus, Grand Zhou’s support program is launching soon—your name, ‘Su Wei,’ is destined to go global!”
“Fine,” Su Wei sighed, taking a steadying breath. With Twitter verification secured and the news article live, her follower count skyrocketed before her eyes.
Truth was, her software wasn’t the quiet success she’d imagined. Thanks to recent buzz, it had swept through tech circles—and beyond. Even Huaxia’s Zhihu platform buzzed with discussions.
*Is the “SkyEye Bug Finder” really that miraculous?*
*Thanks for the invite.*
*Currently in Zhaoge, just landed. Keeping this short.*
When it first dropped, many in IT scoffed. But try it once—you’re hooked. Ever felt the rush of seeing bugs you hunted for a week vanish with one click? Pure heaven.
—
Woke up to insane upvotes. As a Zhihu nobody, I’m flattered.
Many asked why it’s so good—but others covered it well. One point:
The Grand Zhou Federal Empire added it to welfare benefits for emerging tech firms. *They* endorse it. So why keep arguing?
—
Online reactions in Huaxia were loud, but the software barely touched most lives—so hype stayed moderate. Still, with this publicity and Grand Zhou’s backing, hitting 100 million monthly profit felt within reach.
Su Wei ignored the Twitter frenzy. “Celebrity entrepreneur” needed clout—and she was far from there. Even in Huaxia, Jiucang was just a fledgling mid-sized firm.
Humble as ever, she spent days sightseeing with Zhou Xi, then immersed herself in poetry, art, tea ceremonies, opera, dance. Mastery demanded time; talent alone wasn’t enough.
Yet Su Wei never aimed for depth. Her stance? *Not seeking deep understanding.* To critics, that meant “half-baked.” To her? Enough to chat smoothly with CEOs or board members—no awkward silences.
The Sailboat Tower’s success reshaped her: true leaders don’t just talk money. *Why work with you? Cheaper goods? Please—I’m not chasing a few million.*
“Hey, what’re you doing?” Zhou Xi leaned over Su Wei, fingers flying across her laptop in their dorm.
“Coding the short-video app.”
“You don’t need to do everything yourself.” Zhou Xi gently closed the lid. “This isn’t like your bug-finder. Simple work—let the branch handle it.”
“A branch? You applied?”
“Done.” Zhou Xi slid a license onto the desk. “Jiucang (Great Britain) Branch—wholly owned by you, under Jiucang Group.”
“Why Great Britain? And why solely under my name?”
“Grand Zhou offers tax breaks for member-state companies, especially high-tech. Sole ownership? Just for show. Like your other projects—you can’t lead everything. At most, a titular role. Better none at all.”
“Alright. But staffing?”
“Time for the big boss to tweet a recruitment ad.”
“Fine.”
Her Twitter now had 12 million followers—drawn by her poetry, or awed by the “SkyEye Bug Finder” creator. Yet since Zhou Xi handed her the reins, Su Wei posted nothing. Disappointment simmered… until today.
「Recruitment
Company: Jiucang (Great Britain) Branch
Office: Sailboat Tower, Future City, Zhaoge, Grand Zhou
• Software Test Dev Engineer (20) — 8,000 Zhou yuan/month
• Artist (5) — 6,000 Zhou yuan/month
• Architect (3) — 15,000 Zhou yuan/month
• Designer (3) — 10,000 Zhou yuan/month
• Product Manager (3) — 20,000–30,000 Zhou yuan/month
All roles include Grand Zhou Labor Law benefits: 7 paid leave days, year-end bonuses, commissions, etc.
Email resumes: JiucangGroup@100.xyz
Priority: Top 10 global universities, relevant experience.」
Su Wei reviewed it twice, clicked send. Yes, Grand Zhou wages matched its high cost of living (1 Zhou yuan = 8 Huaxia yuan—a bowl of noodles cost 8 in both places). Yet 8,000 Zhou yuan was elite-tier pay. Paired with Su Wei’s rising fame, many would trade higher salaries just to join the mysterious Jiucang Group.
The inbox exploded. Su Wei vowed to vet every resume—then froze at 6,000+ (and climbing). Zhou Xi lasted thirty reviews before surrendering.
They handed screening to the maids, now “HR.” The maids nearly cried: hired to clean and attend to Di Ji’s needs—not face resumes from Zhaoge Royal Academy, Harvard, Royal College of Great Britain, Yale…
Salvation came: Su Wei coded a filter tool. Keywords—age, nationality, alma mater—slashed 90% of applicants. Risked missing gems? Maybe. But screening all would take months. By then, candidates would vanish. This was the only way.
