Unclear instructions, always blaming others for mistakes, and nitpicking over trivial matters: very concerned with the smallest details

This is a company that always refers to itself externally as “semi-semiconductor-grade.” Its website is filled with keywords like wafers, production lines, and 24/7 operation. During interviews, managers repeatedly mention “our clients have very high standards” and “our systems are deeply tied to the production lines,” speaking as if they are about to connect with a world-class wafer fab at any moment. But after actually joining, you discover that the so-called semiconductor work is nothing more than a few outdated MES systems wrapped in polished presentations.

Internally, the company maintains PHP, Java, and .NET systems simultaneously. There are no architecture diagrams and no technical-debt inventory. They call it “parallel development across diverse technologies,” but the only explanation is: “That’s how it’s always been done.” PHP was written ten years ago, Java was left behind by an outsourcing vendor, and .NET is one senior employee’s “territory”—anyone who touches it is asking for trouble. Ask why they do not integrate them, and they will counter: “Do you not understand production lines?”

The core of the problem always comes back to those few people.

李✠毓, responsible for Java, most often says, “This is how I did it when I was at the plant,” but in practice, no one except him can understand the code he writes.

徐✠龍, who controls .NET, is extremely impatient with newcomers; any question is interpreted as a lack of ability.

jack, responsible for PHP, is accustomed to publicly blaming others in group chats and believes that “dealing with pressure is your problem.”

james is technically average but is the best at choosing sides. Once he aligns himself with the right faction, his voice is always the loudest.

And HR Lynn has an extremely low profile. She is gentle and polite during interviews, but becomes almost invisible after you join. Whenever conflict arises, all she says is: “I’ll look into it further.”

The first few days after joining feel like those moments when a child suddenly asks you a question about life in the middle of the night. You think it is just ordinary overtime, but at 2 a.m. you are called up to fix a bug. You ask, “Why does it have to be this way?” No one answers. They only tell you: “The production line cannot stop.”

You begin to fear the end of the workday, fear your phone vibrating, and fear going to sleep, because you know that as soon as the system makes a sound, your night is over.

Officially, working hours are 8 a.m. to 6 p.m., but people who leave at 6 are quietly remembered by name. 10 p.m. is the unspoken norm, with problems handled into the early morning—but deep down, you know this is really a disguised night shift.

The salary structure is also quite “creative.” Thirty percent is labeled as an assignment allowance or subsidy, while the base salary is pushed to the minimum and labor insurance is calculated using the lowest bracket. Meals, accommodation, and transportation are all counted as income, leaving you questioning your life as you pay your taxes. The payslip feels like a puzzle game every month, but no one dares ask questions, because asking will get you labeled as “difficult to work with.”

The scariest thing is not the exhaustion, but that no one wants to solve the problems. Factional struggles are more stable than the systems. As long as you are not one of their people, the fault is always yours.

After a while, you start to doubt yourself.

Am I just bad at handling pressure?

Am I really not suited to this industry?

Just as the child David was taught that “marriage is scary,” you are gradually taught that “this is just how the industry works.”

So you can only change the subject: “Don’t be afraid. When you grow up, you’ll become bigger and taller than me. Then it’ll be your turn to protect me!”

The child David: “When I grow up, I’ll be taller than Uncle!”

(My younger brother is 153 cm.)

Until one day, you realize that the truly frightening thing is not semiconductors, but a company that uses the name of semiconductors to rationalize chaos, bullying, and dysfunctional management.

The moment you leave, you feel relieved instead.

It turns out the problem was never you.