Cen Qinghe sat in the lounge of the Shengtian Group, clasping a notice for the third round interview. Her heart was pounding in a way it never had before. Her nerves weren't just due to the fact that this was her first job interview after university, but because she had bet all on this opportunity — leaving her hometown and traveling thousands of miles to a strange city. There was no turning back.

She cast a glance around and noticed the women on the opposite couch; all of them were young and stunning, dressed in designer clothes. One wore a V-neck dress showing off a cleavage that made Cen Qinghe choke on her saliva, wondering what she had eaten to grow like that.

Another woman, a petite lady in Korean-style, was busy reapplying her makeup.

The woman sitting directly opposite Cen Qinghe exuded an air of disdain for everyone in the room and a natural sense of arrogance, fiddling nonchalantly with her crystal nails while shooting disdainful glances around.

Before Cen Qinghe had entered, she had noticed other candidates waiting in other lounges. Shengtian Group was recruiting for high-level real estate sales positions, offering industry-leading salaries and limited vacancies, which naturally attracted a large number of outstanding talent.

Cen Qinghe’s university major was in languages, not sales. Coincidentally, Shengtian required candidates for their high-level real estate sales positions to be proficient in at least three foreign languages. She was mainly applying for the high salary offered, although her best friend, who had been playing with her for eighteen years, worked here. If she could land the job smoothly, it would indeed kill two birds with one stone.

As she was thinking, the waiting room door was pushed open, An employee wearing a Shengtian badge stood at the entrance and announced, “Please follow me."

Cen Qinghe immediately stood up, almost losing her balance. It was her first time wearing high heels; Cai Xinyuan had prepared a pair with a five-centimeter heel for her, saying she couldn't go any shorter. Initially, she thought the heels were too high, but when she saw the other applicants in towering heels, she suddenly regretted not wearing anything taller. She didn't want to lose in terms of presence.

The other women all walked in front of Cen Qinghe, who trailed behind the group. She dared not walk too quickly, afraid of twisting her ankle.

Shengtian's office building was fully carpeted, and no matter the type footwear, everyone’s footsteps were silenced.

The employee led the four of them to a double redwood door, smiling as she said, "Please wait here. You are next for the interview round."

Cen Qinghe had a bad habit. When she was nervous, she would feel the need to go to the restroom and her mind would go blank. She was worried if the interviewer spoke to her in Spanish, the language she was least proficient in, she might short-circuit and not be able to respond.

They had been standing at the door for less than 30 seconds when it swung open, and a beautiful but visibly furious woman stormed out.

A woman near Cen Qinghe, in Korean-style, remarked, "Didn't she pass the interview? Why is she so angry?"

While they were still talking, the door opened again, and another beautiful woman emerged, her face still full of rage.

Cen Qinghe's nervousness turned into fear, knowing that Shengtian Group is the largest real estate company in the country and one of the top fifty in the world. The previous two rounds of interviews were fairly standard, could the big test be this final one?

She stood in place for less than three minutes, and the door in front of her opened again. Three interviewees came out in a queue, each with a sour face as if they wanted to curse. One person passed by Cen Qinghe and really muttered, "Damn, are you sick?"

This remark inevitably flashed thousands of frightening thoughts in Cen Qinghe's mind. What was inside the door? What would they ask in the interview?

Before she could think too much, the female secretaries had already signaled for them to go in.

Cen Qinghe gripped the thin paper in her hand, took a deep breath, and followed the person in front of her into the room.

The interview office was much larger than imagined. Upon entering, she first passed through a small corridor, then turned left, and a large open space unfolded before her, easily a hundred square meters.

In such a large open space, there was only one desk in front, with a desktop computer on it. The person behind the computer was leaning back in the chair, so the interviewees couldn't see their face but could only observe a striped shirt sleeve and a nameplate on the desk that read "Marketing Director."

She had presumed the final round to be a grand and solemn affair, but not foreseeing anyone, let alone this scene, truly surprised Cen Qinghe and the other three interviewees to varying degrees.

After leading them in, the female secretary turned around and exited.

The moment the door closed, a strange, deep and lazy voice of a man came from the quiet room, he said, "Those who've had plastic surgery, leave."

Upon hearing this, Cen Qinghe couldn't help but raise her eyebrows. She looked sideways at the woman beside her, Han Faner, who frowned and glanced at her, seemingly dissatisfied with Cen Qinghe's attention. But was Cen Qinghe only doubting her hearing?

None of the four applicants responded. After a few seconds, a man's voice came from behind the computer again, his tone lazy and impatient, "Chen Baoyi, your first rhinoplasty was in 2009 at a cosmetic surgery clinic in Haicheng, and the following year you had an epicanthoplasty there; two years later you went to Korea, to have your cheekbones shaved and forehead augmented at a plastic surgery hospital in Seoul. Until last year, you had records of having face-shaping injections in YeCheng. You've changed so much, I just want to ask, do your parents still recognize you?"