0p0 Chapter 461 Recruiting at the Weibo Entrance
Chapter 461 Recruiting at the Weibo Entrance
The atmosphere in the office area of Weibo's Shanghai branch was even more oppressive than the weather outside the window.
In October, Shanghai still had the tail end of summer. The sunlight outside the window was bright and dazzling, reflecting off the glass curtain wall.
But the dozens of people in the office area all had their heads down, staring at their screens, and the sound of typing on their keyboards was sparse and slow, sounding several beats slower than usual.
In the break room, three young people were standing around a coffee machine.
A short-haired boy with black-rimmed glasses held a cup, his eyes fixed on the coffee machine's spout, but his mouth was never idle: "Have you heard? TUTU Technology is hiring on a massive scale recently. Operations, channels, business development, technology, all kinds of positions are available, and they even say they're hiring a vice president."
A girl with a ponytail next to me turned her phone screen towards me; it showed a job posting. The page was quite simple, but the words "TUTU Technology" were prominently displayed in the center, impossible to miss. "I checked the compensation too," she said. "The base salary for the same position is almost half as much again as here. And their job posting says overtime pay is extra, double on weekends, triple on holidays. I've worked at Weibo for three years and I've never even seen what overtime pay looks like."
The third was a tall, thin man in a plaid shirt. He glanced around and lowered his voice, saying, "I also heard that TUTU's year-end bonus starts at six months' salary. Last year, an operations manager jumped ship and received his year-end bonus after less than two months. Apparently, he got more than he did in a year at Weibo."
The short-haired guy pulled his coffee cup from under the machine; it was only half full, and he didn't bother to refill it. "How come those people are so lucky? I submitted my resume to TUTU three times, and each time they just read it but didn't reply. They didn't even give me an interview."
The girl with the ponytail rolled her eyes: "What job are you applying for?"
"Operations Specialist."
"Nonsense. What does your resume say? Weibo operations, three years of experience. When people see you're from Weibo, what's their first thought? — Is this person here to steal my technology?"
The short-haired boy was speechless after hearing her words. He opened his mouth, but found that he really couldn't refute her.
Everyone in the industry knows about the mess between Weibo and TUTU.
Two years ago, the incident of Weibo stealing the code of TUTU Happy Farm caused a great uproar. Although it was eventually dropped, it has been talked about as a joke in the community ever since.
How could the people at TUTU not feel disgusted after seeing the resume on Weibo?
The tall, thin man in the plaid shirt chimed in, "Is there any way to circumvent that? For example, quitting your job first and then applying, or not mentioning Weibo on your resume?"
"You think they can't find out? A background check will come in one phone call, and they'll know exactly which companies you've worked for before."
The three of them stood around the coffee machine for a while longer, the coffee in their cups slowly cooling down, and none of them felt like drinking it. Finally, the short-haired boy put down his cup first, his voice a beat lower than before: "So what do we do? Just keep waiting like this?"
The girl with the ponytail put her phone away, leaned against the table, and thought for a moment: "It's not entirely hopeless. I heard that TUTU has a referral system; if an employee recommends someone, their resume gets priority processing. Also, people who are referred don't get asked the more difficult questions during the interview."
Do you know anyone associated with TUTU?
"I don't know her. But my former team leader, who used to mentor me, just switched to TUTU last month. I'll try contacting her."
The three of them chatted in hushed tones for a few more minutes when the door to the tea room was suddenly pushed open.
Wang Huabing walked in with a thermos and stood in front of the water dispenser to fill it with water.
He was facing away from the three people when he got the water, so his expression couldn't be seen, but the movement of his back was very small, as if he was deliberately keeping quiet.
The air in the tea room suddenly froze.
The short-haired boy picked up the half-cup of cold coffee, turned around, and walked away quickly, his shoes making a short, sharp sound as they scraped the floor.
The girl with the ponytail followed behind him with her head down. The tall, thin man in the plaid shirt was the last to leave, and he walked away noticeably slower, as if he was hesitating whether to say hello to Wang Huabing.
He opened his mouth slightly, but ultimately said nothing, turned around, and quickly followed the person in front of him.
The door to the tea room closed automatically.
Wang Huabing stood there, his hand still pressed on the water dispenser's dispensing button, the water in his cup already overflowing and splashing onto the table.
He glanced down, loosened his grip, grabbed a tissue from the side, wiped the table clean, and carried the full glass of water back to his office.
He closed the door and sat down behind his desk.
The thermos was placed on the table, the lid wasn't tightened, and wisps of hot steam escaped from the gaps.
He stared blankly at the wisp of steam, his mind replaying the words he had overheard at the entrance to the tea room.
He heard the word "TUTU," the salary, the year-end bonus, and the internal referral, and he also heard the short-haired boy say, "I've sent it three times and they've read it but haven't replied."
But what bothered him more was their reaction when they scattered like startled birds after he came in.
Wang Huabing leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.
He recalled when he had just been transferred to the Shanghai branch two years ago. At that time, although Weibo was already on a downward trend, it was still relatively well-known.
During meetings, people raise their hands to speak; in the break room, people chat about projects and ideas; and after get off work, some people even make plans to go out for late-night snacks together.
Now, sitting in the office and looking out, all I can see are rows of heads bowed and the blue reflection of screens on my glasses.
No one spoke, no one laughed, even coughs were muffled.
Wang Huabing certainly knew where the problem lay.
He has been working at Weibo for almost ten years, working his way up from an ordinary employee to his current position.
The decline of Weibo is not a recent phenomenon; signs of it had already emerged long before he was transferred to Shanghai.
Slow product iteration, rapid user churn, and GG's revenue decreasing year by year.
The people at headquarters weren't unaware of the problem, but they chose the easiest solution—replacing the person.
Replace the people with a different batch, and if they don't do a good job, replace them with another batch.
Every person in charge is given high hopes, but every person in charge becomes the scapegoat after six months.
When Wang Huabing first came to Shanghai, the people at headquarters told him, "We'll give you complete autonomy; you can change it however you want." He believed them.
He spent three months reorganizing the entire Shanghai branch, cutting two of the least efficient departments, concentrating resources on content and user operations, and also bringing in several external partners for a joint promotion.
It does have an effect.
The data for those three months increased significantly, though not by much, but the curve was indeed trending upwards.
He compiled the data into a report and sent it back to headquarters, but instead of receiving resource support, he received a restrained email that essentially said, "The adjustments are too drastic; we recommend proceeding with caution."
His privileges were then revoked.
Every decision must first be submitted to headquarters for approval, and the approval cycle has been extended from three days to three weeks.
By the time the approval was granted, the market had changed drastically.
His conflict with TUTU was ultimately forced upon him.
At that time, TUTU was still in its early stages. The product had only been launched for a short time, and the user base had not yet been fully established.
His assessment at the time was that if TUTU's neck wasn't stopped at that point, the Weibo gaming section would be completely doomed once they grew up.
The judgment itself is not problematic.
The problem lies in the execution.
He underestimated Lu Ran's product strength.
After those games were released, the user feedback was ridiculously positive, and they spread spontaneously faster than any other product he had ever seen.
While he was still organizing people to write press releases, TUTU's downloads had already quadrupled.
He wanted to wage a war of public opinion, but public opinion overwhelmingly sided with TUTU.
He approached Tencent for a partnership, but before long, Tencent turned around and signed a long-term cooperation agreement with TUTU.
Every step I took was a step into a pit, every step I took was a precise step into a pit.
Wang Huabing sometimes wonders if Weibo would be any worse than it is now if he hadn't fought that battle with TUTU.
But he quickly dismissed the idea.
It doesn't matter whether we fight or not.
To remain still is to die, to move is also to die, but to move at least leaves behind the dignity of "having tried."
He glanced down at his phone; a news notification was displayed on the lock screen.
The news headline read, "TUTU Technology's European version of League of Legends surpasses one million concurrent users, setting another record for Chinese games going global." He didn't open it, but instead flipped his phone face down on the table.
After a while, he picked up the thermos, unscrewed the lid, and took a sip of water.
The water had cooled down, and when I drank it, it had the distinctive rusty taste of a stainless steel thermos.
He put the cup back and turned on his computer to process today's emails.
There weren't many emails; most were daily work reports, and there were two expense reports urging him to sign them.
He read and replied to each letter one by one, his movements mechanical yet practiced.
The sunlight outside the window slowly changed from noon to afternoon, while the hum of the air conditioner in the office never stopped.
It wasn't dark when I got off work.
In Shanghai, the days are still long in summer, and the light is still bright at six o'clock.
Wang Huabing shut down his computer, put the files on his desktop into a drawer, picked up his coat and bag, and left the office.
There were hardly any people left in the corridor.
Most people left earlier than him; the computer screens at their workstations were all dark, with only a few emergency lights still on.
He walked through the empty office area toward the door, his leather shoes making a clear echo on the floor.
When he got to the door, he saw a recruitment booth.
A folding table, three plastic chairs, and a dark blue tablecloth covering the table.
A sign made of foam board stands on the tablecloth, with large black characters printed on it: "TUTU Technology is hiring".
There were also a few lines of smaller print next to it, which read things like "Those with work experience are preferred" and "Talent from all fields is welcome to join us."
Three people were sitting behind the table.
Two men and one woman, all looking quite young, were dressed in ordinary casual clothes, with a TUTU Technology name tag pinned to their chests.
On the table were several stacks of flyers, a large pile of blank resumes, and a few unopened bottles of mineral water.
Wang Huabing stood at the door, his brow furrowing slightly.
He had seen headhunters set up stalls downstairs in office buildings before, but those were usually for a specific position or a specific project team.
He had never seen anything like this before, where a table was set up right at the company entrance with a sign that blatantly read, "I'm hiring, come and chat."
He stood there for a few seconds, and his first thought was—this is too ostentatious.
My second thought was—but this trick really works.
The real business battles are never about swords and spears, but about these underhanded tactics.
As he stood there, he saw several familiar faces pass by the stall.
Some people walked by quickly, pretending not to see it; some slowed down and glanced at it; and some stopped to take a flyer, flipping through it as they walked. Before even reaching the intersection, they started looking down at their phones, probably scanning a QR code.
Many people saw Wang Huabing behind them and hurried away.
After all, no one would feel comfortable looking at other companies' signs and brochures in front of their boss.
Since the person hasn't left yet, there's no guarantee they won't make things difficult for them later.
After those people passed by, Wang Huabing's feet unconsciously began to move in that direction.
The young woman behind the table was busy organizing the flyers on the table and didn't notice him walking over.
The young man in the black short-sleeved shirt next to him was the first to look up, sporting a standard recruitment smile and very enthusiastic: "Hello sir! TUTU Technology is currently hiring on a large scale. Would you like to learn more?"
He handed me a flyer with a natural and practiced manner, as if he had done it hundreds of times before.
Wang Huabing reached out and took it.
The flyer wasn't very well made; it was just an A4 sheet of paper folded in half.
The front features the TUTU Technology logo and a list of job openings, while the back includes a company profile and benefits information.
He glanced down at the job list. Operations Specialist, Channel Manager, Business Development, Technology Development, Product Manager, User Research, Data Analyst, Customer Service Supervisor... a long list of names that basically covered all the regular positions in a game company.
The bottom line of the job posting was blank, with a handwritten line that read, "Branch Vice President (negotiable)".
The handwriting is a bit messy, and even looks like it was added on the spot.
Wang Huabing stared at that line of text for several seconds.
He noticed that there was no specific salary range next to this line, only the words "negotiable".
This is a common practice in recruitment, meaning that there is a lot of room for negotiation on the salary for this position.
Seeing that he was looking at him intently, the boy in the black short-sleeved shirt took the initiative to introduce the situation: "Sir, if you are interested, you can fill out a resume first—"
He stopped halfway through his sentence.
He stared at Wang Huabing's face for two seconds, his expression changing from a standard professional smile to a somewhat uncertain confusion.
He seemed to be trying hard to recall something, but he couldn't remember where he had seen the face before; it just looked familiar.
The young woman next to him also noticed the commotion. She looked up at Wang Huabing, her gaze lingering on his face for a moment, before she lowered her voice and asked her colleague, "Who's this guy? He looks kind of familiar."
The boy in the black short-sleeved shirt shook his head, lowering his voice even further: "I don't know. Maybe it's from upstairs."
Wang Huabing ignored the two men's hushed conversation.
He flipped the flyer over and carefully read through the lines of benefits on the back.
Salary, year-end bonus, five social insurances and one housing fund, meal allowance, transportation allowance, overtime pay, annual physical examination and two trips.
Each point was written clearly, almost exactly the same as what those people in the break room had said.
He folded the flyer neatly and stuffed it into a compartment of his black briefcase.
Then he looked up, nodded slightly to the still confused boy in the black short-sleeved shirt, said "thank you," and turned to leave.
He walked at a moderate pace, and his back was straighter than when he arrived.
The backpack swayed behind him, and the metal buckle of the zipper flashed briefly in the setting sun.
The boy in the black short-sleeved shirt was still standing behind the table, watching his back with his mouth slightly open, as if he was trying to recall something.
The young woman next to him nudged him with her elbow: "Do you even know him or not?"
The boy in the black short-sleeved shirt shook his head and looked away. "I can't remember. Oh well, he was probably just passing by."
He rearranged the flyers on the table and continued to wait for the next person to pass by.
Wang Huabing walked to the intersection and, while waiting for the red light, took the flyer out of his bag and glanced at it again.
People were coming and going on the sidewalk across the street, and no one noticed him standing there looking down at a piece of paper.
He folded the flyer back and put it away. The light turned green, and he stepped across the street.
.