After 11/22, there will be a new feature every week discussing why employees' abilities have gone from department-store level to wet-market level, the various petty supervisors who love to throw their weight around, and changes in people's mental state after resigning.

What 李✠毓 is best at isn't programming, but making bonuses disappear. At recruitment briefings, he uses presentations to teach newcomers how to easily understand the high-performer commission system, speaking as if he were handing out red envelopes; when it comes time to actually settle the accounts, however, the red envelope contains only a number as small as a tangyuan. When the campaign ends, everyone treats each other to cola to celebrate hitting the target, while the bonuses have already been divided among the full-time staff. The problem isn't him; the problem is that you didn't work hard enough.

james is the on-site emotional thermometer, and it is always overheated. No matter how complicated the policies are, he can explain them by shouting, demanding that colleagues hawk products like vendors at a wet market, as if the louder the voice, the smarter the AI being made. While the neighboring counter rolls its eyes back into its head, he still thinks this is called having presence. Once, during a summer campaign that was insanely busy, he completely blew up just because one sentence hadn't followed procedure. The company says it values mental health, but he is a living counterexample for the training materials.

jack is best at pushing problems down the line. When supporting another counter, he always says he is busy, so new hires are left alone at an unfamiliar POS, relying on help from the neighboring counter. If it weren't for that one sale, you wouldn't have reached ten thousand. Credit is divided, responsibility is sliced up, and the process is perpetually stuck. Internal documents are like wrapping tangyuan: layer upon layer, and by the time they are approved, it will be New Year. All that remains is peanut powder sprinkled over the effort as a token consolation.

徐✠龍 believes that the more rules there are, the safer the company is. Every little thing has to pass through three or four levels, and even taking leave is like applying for a red-envelope subsidy. The job was advertised as a full-time position, but the contract says fixed-term; when you raise a problem, he can use rhetoric to confuse you, and a resignation application is delayed for two months, with the reason always being that the process is incomplete. He loves saying on Christmas Eve that the company is like a family, but this family only gives you milk, not a future.

HR Lynn always greets people with a smile. In interviews, he talks about vision and growth, saying bonuses will come as naturally as red envelopes. Once you actually start, there are problems everywhere, but he asks you to be more understanding of the company. In the months with the most overtime, he says, “Haven’t we all been working very little overtime lately?” When you show him evidence, he smiles and says the system is complicated and you will have to wait a little longer—until even New Year has passed. His greatest talent is procrastination: resignations are rejected, suggestions are discounted, and in the end all that remains is the official blessing: “The future is yours to look forward to.”