Chapter Nine: Jiang Yao

If selling the Luminous Sword had involved a great deal of luck, then selling the company’s Silver Deer Antler Syrup was a true test of skill—a challenge for a true novice. As usual, when Jiang Yao stepped into the office lobby, her eyes instinctively drifted southeast. Zhang He was always punctual, often arriving earlier than most.

At that moment, Zhang He sat properly at his desk, staring blankly at the tabletop—a habit that hadn't changed in months. But today was different. In the next three days, he’d have the rent for Blackie’s apartment sorted, but this month’s living expenses were still unresolved. And once this month ended, it would be time for rent and living expenses again. Life felt like a strange cycle—either virtuous or vicious—and Zhang He knew full well he was caught in the latter.

Relying on “Dynasty” to solve his financial troubles again was unrealistic. The Luminous Sword was half his insight and half sheer luck. One couldn’t expect fortune to smile every time; clinging to that hope was like a gambler’s delusion, doomed to ultimate ruin.

The lobby bustled with life. Male and female colleagues liked to gather around the central conference table before work began, chatting and joking, usually about the ever-popular “Dynasty.” Its success felt less like a mere game and more like a fashionable way of life. You didn’t have to master it; just wandering through its world and experiencing its curiosities was enough.

After exchanging a few casual words with some coworkers, Jiang Yao walked gracefully toward Zhang He. “Morning, Zhang He!”

“Good morning, Sister Yao!” Zhang He replied politely. He wouldn’t dare call her “Sister Jiang” after the new manager of Sales Department 2, Chu Bo, had done so brashly; ever since, Jiang Yao had shown little warmth to that so-called ace sales manager.

Curiously, Manager Chu seemed even more taken with Jiang Yao afterward, often wandering over to Zhang He’s desk—her seat was right next to his, after all. There was an advantage in proximity.

Few in sales lacked a sharp eye, and Chu Bo was no exception. There was no shortage of attractive women in the company—these days, advanced cosmetics and fashionable attire could turn a wrinkled, sallow-faced woman into a breathtaking beauty. Yet Jiang Yao was clearly not one of those. She wore a blue-and-white women’s suit—not exactly trendy, but dignified and elegant. Chu Bo couldn’t see her figure clearly, but her fresh, unadorned face was striking. As she tidied her desk, her shiny, wavy black hair slipped forward, and when she adjusted a strand near her ear, Chu Bo couldn’t help but swallow—this was the allure of a true beauty, not just a pretty face.

However, from Chu Bo’s discreet observations, Jiang Yao was cold to everyone in the company—except for Zhang He. Not that she was warm to him, but she did scold him more often than others, which Chu Bo found interesting. Rumor had it even President Li had tried and failed to win her favor. Thus, Chu Bo’s first tactical move was to win over Zhang He.

“Morning, Xiao Zhang!” Chu Bo strode over, a pack of Zhonghua cigarettes in hand. “Have one?”

Zhang He glanced at the cigarettes on his desk. “Thank you, Manager Chu, but I don’t smoke.”

Chu Bo faced his first setback, but he wasn’t discouraged. “Xiao Zhang, why not transfer to our department? I have a few major clients to handle and no time for the smaller ones—how about I let you take those? Both President Li and I think highly of you.”

The company’s eight sales departments were ranked monthly by performance. For someone like Zhang He, who’d scored zero for three straight months, there was no hope of transferring to Department 2; even in the sparsely staffed Department 8, he was just an intern. As for President Li thinking highly of him—everyone knew that was just consolation.

Jiang Yao glanced coldly at Chu Bo, her look tinged with impatience. As manager of Department 7, she thought any promotion for Zhang He should be to her department, not a leap to Department 2.

“Thank you, Manager Chu,” Zhang He replied ambiguously, leaving Chu Bo unsure if he was interested or not.

Chu Bo rambled a bit more before steering the conversation to “Dynasty.” “Xiao Zhang, do you play ‘Dynasty’?”

Zhang He replied honestly, “I log in and wander around sometimes.”

“Oh? How many rebirths? Which province?” In Chu Bo’s mind, a player’s strength was measured by their “rebirths.” Zhang He understood, but could only smile awkwardly. “I’m a newcomer.”

“Oh… what a shame!” Chu Bo turned smoothly to Jiang Yao. “Sister Yao, how many rebirths do you have now? I heard from Xiao Ou you’re in Yizhou too. Want me to help you level up? I just reached my fourth rebirth yesterday.”

Zhang He’s heart skipped a beat. Several colleagues were in Yizhou—should he ask them for help? He quickly dismissed the idea; this month’s living expenses and next month’s rent were far more pressing.

Jiang Yao, not wanting to seem aloof, replied, “Five rebirths.”

“Five?” Chu Bo was visibly stunned, and even Zhang He showed a hint of surprise.

“Dynasty” had been online for three years, and high-level players were countless. The highest was said to be Elder Hai Feiyu of the Beggars’ Sect—at least seven rebirths and level 140. If Jiang Yao really had five, she was likely a member of a prestigious sect.

Chu Bo asked the question on Zhang He’s mind. “Sister Yao, which sect are you in?”

Jiang Yao shot back, “Which sect are you in?”

Chu Bo answered with some pride, “Tang Sect—I’m currently a junior hall master.”

Tang Sect was big, but not exactly respectable; everyone knew they specialized in hidden weapons and poison—a shady path, not much different from Mount Qingcheng.

“Oh.” Jiang Yao’s face showed no emotion. “I’m in the Emei Sword Sect.”

Now Chu Bo was speechless. He’d thought he was doing well, but Jiang Yao was clearly on another level.

Emei was, after Shaolin, Wudang, and the Beggars’ Sect, the most prestigious in the Central Plains. To join Emei, you needed at least two rebirths, a clean record, and at least 100 chivalry points—bare minimums that most players could only dream of. Emei was also known for its female players, advancing through ranks like “Senior Sister.” Men could join, but the requirements were strict and advancement was difficult. The hierarchy went: Disciple, Blue Rain Hall, Flowing Cloud Hall, Gentle Breeze Hall, Star Moon Hall, Golden Summit Hall, Five Senior Sisters, Rewards Officer, Disciplinary Officer, Sect Leader.

Most likely, Jiang Yao was a Flowing Cloud Hall disciple—already able to practice the Flowing Cloud Sword. Not something a Tang Sect member could easily aspire to.

“Ah, it’s nine o’clock—back to work!” Chu Bo laughed awkwardly and retreated to his office.

Jiang Yao noticed Zhang He still staring blankly and came over to tap his desk. “Zhang He, I have a small order here—from Five Star Company on Rooster Crest Street, about 2,000 yuan. Do a good job, and try to move up from Department 8 to Department 7 soon.”

Zhang He didn’t stand on ceremony. Glancing at the file she handed him, he asked in confusion, “Where’s Rooster Crest Street? I’ve never heard of it.”

Jiang Yao almost choked. Rooster Crest Street was the busiest commercial street in Dreamstar City—every local knew it. Then she recalled that Zhang He’s resume listed his hometown as Colorful Cloud City. No wonder he was unfamiliar.

She suddenly realized Zhang He, living on 800 yuan a month for the past three months, must be extremely frugal—maybe even unwilling to spend a single yuan on bus fare. The commute from the company to Rooster Crest Street involved three subway transfers; landing this order would be exhausting.

“Zhang He, are you playing ‘Dynasty’ too?” Jiang Yao changed the subject.

Zhang He replied, “Yes, I log in sometimes, but I’m not very interested—just fooling around.”

He was being honest. He wasn’t interested. Last night, he’d only entered “Dynasty” out of desperation, taking a wild risk to defeat Swordless. If he ever went in again, he wouldn’t dare try something like that.

Seeing his indifferent expression, Jiang Yao felt a slight disappointment, but quickly understood. Zhang He was struggling just to get by—who had the energy for games?

Yet with his intelligence, she doubted he’d remain a novice in “Dynasty.” At least, that’s what she thought. He just seemed a bit lazy, drifting through each day—heaven knows what was on his mind.

—There will be another update at midnight. My previous books never made it to the New Book Leaderboard; I hope this one will do better. It all depends on your votes and support. If you enjoy this story, please vote and add it to your favorites!