The ship's broadcast came on.
"Dear passengers, a career development lecture will be held at ten o'clock this morning in the conference centre on the fifth deck. All are welcome."
When the broadcast sounded, the sun had already risen to about the height of a pole above the sea. Light poured in through the window, turning the whole room pale gold.
I sat up in bed.
Dianzi was still asleep. The squirrel was hugged in her arms, its fluffy tail poking out from under the duvet.
I took two sets of JK uniforms from the Lingguang Xihuan.
White cropped top. The hem stopped just below the ribs. A dark blue diagonal tie at the collar, hanging down over the chest. A section of navy blue sailor‑style fabric extended from the collar, edged with white lines, with a silver metal button in the centre.
The back was largely open. Only a few thin straps crossed below the shoulder blades, tied into an X shape. At the intersection on the spine hung a small gear – silver‑grey, faintly reflecting the light.
The lower half was a navy blue pleated mini skirt. The hem just covered the upper thighs.
Royal blue over‑the‑knee stockings. The cuffs stopped eight centimetres above the knee.
Dianzi woke up too and crawled out from under the duvet.
Her JK uniform was the same style as mine. But the top was light grey, the tie wine red, the skirt white.
Lake blue over‑the‑knee stockings. The cuffs at the same height.
She stood before the mirror and spun around. The pleated skirt lifted and fell.
"Good morning, my treasures," Dianzi opened the interface, her voice still carrying sleepiness. "Today we are going to the career development lecture."
[chat] Morning 🌞
[chat] Very JK today
[chat] That cropped top is so short
[chat] The open back is killing me
When we arrived at the conference centre, a queue had already formed at the door. Same as before. Quiet. Everyone looked down at their phones.
I stood on the outer side of the queue and let Dianzi squeeze in first to save spots.
"My treasures," I said into the lens, turning sideways to let the interface capture the open back. "Today we are livestreaming JK workwear."
[chat] Looking good 👔
[chat] So cool in JK
[chat] So hot today
[chat] This back is incredible
I turned the lens around and aimed it at the queue.
A sea of heads. Everyone wore ironed shirts and trousers without creases. Some looked at their phones, some flipped through notebooks, some practised self‑introductions to the air.
That middle‑aged man in the blue jacket was here again. He stood at the very end of the queue, holding nothing in his hands. He was not looking at a phone, not flipping through a notebook, not practising self‑introductions.
He just stood there, staring at the backs of the heads in front of him.
Beside him stood a young woman practising her self‑introduction into her phone. Her voice was very small, but I could catch some words.
"My name is Yunai… graduating this year… graduated from… my strengths are…"
When she got to "my strengths are", she paused. Stopped for two seconds, then started over.
"My name is Yunai… graduating this year… graduated from…"
She paused again.
She looked down at her phone, read through her self‑introduction, then continued practising.
"My name is Yunai… graduating this year… graduated from Kirishima University… my strengths are… strong learning ability…"
When she said "strong learning ability", her voice became smaller. Perhaps she herself felt that this phrase was empty.
But she continued.
"Good stress resistance… team spirit…"
Her voice grew smaller and smaller, until the last few words were almost inaudible.
She stopped, took a deep breath, and started practising from the beginning again.
That middle‑aged man listened beside her. He was not looking at her, but I knew he was listening. His ears moved slightly, and his shoulders leaned a little in her direction.
She practised perhaps five or six times. Each time she paused at the same place. After "strong learning ability", she always stopped for a moment before continuing with "good stress resistance".
On the seventh time, she finally did not pause.
"My name is Yunai… graduating this year… graduated from Kirishima University… my strengths are strong learning ability, good stress resistance, team spirit…"
She said it all in one breath. After finishing, she let out a long breath. She looked down at her phone to confirm she had not made a mistake.
Then she looked up and glanced at the front of the queue.
The queue moved forward one step. She followed and started practising again.
"My name is Yunai…"
——The words she was practising were exactly the same as the self‑evaluations on the resumes in the cardboard boxes. But she didn't know that those resumes in the boxes wouldn't be read either.
I let the lens sweep past her without stopping.
The lecture began.
The speaker was a man in his forties. Suit, tie tied very tight. The name tag on his chest printed with "Shirakawa Tetsu". He stood on the stage, his hands resting on the sides of the lectern, his shoulders slightly leaning forward.
"Dear young people," Shirakawa Tetsu's voice was a little lower than before. "Today this lecture will be brief."
He glanced at the audience, then at the door. Beside the door stood a few cardboard boxes with labels that said "Resume Drop‑off".
"Just hand in your resumes," he said. "HR will look at them."
After saying this, he glanced at the audience again. The several hundred people still said nothing. His gaze swept from the first row to the last, then came back.
"All right," he said. "Let us begin."
The crowd moved.
Several hundred people stood up at the same time. The sound of chair legs scraping the floor mixed together. Some walked fast, some slow, some were pushed aside and pushed their way back.
They all held resumes in their hands. Some in clear plastic folders, some folded and stuffed into bags, some rolled into tubes and clutched in white‑knuckled hands.
I aimed the lens at the door.
The first cardboard box filled up quickly. Resumes were pushed through the slot, stacking on top of each other. Corners poked through the gaps in the cardboard. The people behind kept pushing them in.
When they could not push any more, they placed them beside the box, stacking them into a pile.
I held the lens there for five seconds.
[chat] So many people
[chat] Are those all resumes?
[chat] The cardboard box can't hold any more
[chat] A little sad
A man in a grey suit walked over, holding a stack of resumes. He looked at the box that was already overflowing. Then he placed his stack beside it, on top of the others.
On the top copy, the cover page said "Ivy League Master's Degree, three years of work experience". The "expected salary" column had been crossed out. The original figure was illegible. "Negotiable" was handwritten next to it.
After placing it down, he straightened his body, glanced at the box, then turned and walked away. He walked quickly, without looking back.
Another person came over. It was the young woman – Yunai.
Her hair was tied very tight. She wore a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to her wrists. She placed her resume on the floor beside the box, crouched down, and smoothed the edges with her hand.
When she stood up, her knee made a cracking sound. She looked down, perhaps embarrassed, and walked away quickly.
The pile of resumes beside the cardboard box grew larger and larger. From one stack to two, from two to three.
There was no one at the door anymore. Only those cardboard boxes and the piles of resumes beside them, quietly stacked there.
The lecture was over.
The crowd poured out of the conference centre. When they passed the cardboard boxes, some stopped to look, some walked straight past.
That middle‑aged man in the blue jacket walked to the cardboard boxes. He crouched down and flipped through the resumes on the floor. He flipped through perhaps four or five copies, looking at the school and major on each cover. Then he put them back.
When he stood up, he braced his knees. Very slowly.
After he left, the area beside the cardboard box became quiet again.
Only Dianzi and I remained in the corridor.
I crouched down and looked at the top resume.
The young person in the photo smiled very standardly – very white teeth, eyes curved. The education section said a certain university, master's degree. The internship experience was a long list.
The self‑evaluation said "strong learning ability, good stress resistance, team spirit."
Exactly the same as what Yunai had practised.
I put the resume back.
When I stood up, my knee made a cracking sound. Just like Yunai earlier.
"Let us go," I said to Dianzi.
She nodded and put the interface away.
As we walked down the corridor, the fluorescent lights continued to hum. The cardboard boxes were still there. The resumes were still there. Their corners were lifted by the wind and then dropped, making a very soft sound.
Back in the cabin, I sat by the window looking at the sea.
The sea was very flat. No waves. Like a huge sheet of grey silk.
Dianzi placed the squirrel on the bedside table.
"Lychee, did you see those resumes?" she said earnestly. "So many people."
The squirrel hugged its acorn.
"They wrote them for a very long time," Dianzi continued. "But those cardboard boxes got filled up in no time."
She pulled the duvet up to her chin and closed her eyes.
"Sister, will they find jobs later?" she asked.
"Some will," I said. "Some won't. But no one will stop sending them out."
She turned over, and her breathing slowly became even.
I sat by the window.
Outside the window, the sea was still bright. The sunlight turned the crests of the waves into scattered gold. The wake line in the distance disappeared into the mist.
My gaze fell on the squirrel on the bedside table.
It hugged its acorn. Its expression was blank and earnest – as if waiting for an answer that would never come.