I Only Wanted to Be a Low-Level Government Official - Chapter 2: Onboarding

He tied his tie three times before he was satisfied, and his hair was combed meticulously.

The briefcase was a new purchase yesterday, the most basic black model, which cost him over three hundred yuan—something he would have hesitated about for half a month before.

Before leaving home, he checked his ID card and graduation certificate copies three times.

At 7:30, Qin Feng stood at the entrance of the Jiangdong City Organization Department compound.

The dark gray building was solemn and dignified, with a white sign with black lettering hanging at the entrance.

Qin Feng looked up, his heart beating a little fast.

For him, this was not an easy job—it was a secure job, a source of pride for his parents in the village, and a stable life he had finally managed to secure after years of hard work.

People started arriving one after another.

Some were around his age, while others looked younger; all were dressed in formal attire and carrying briefcases or folders.

Everyone nodded to each other, but no one spoke; a sense of tension and anticipation filled the air.

Qin Feng followed the group of people into the courtyard.

The cement road was very clean, and the sycamore trees on both sides were neatly trimmed.

Qin Feng subconsciously slowed his footsteps, as if making a loud sound would seem undignified.

The cadre team is located on the third floor.

There were already more than twenty people in the conference room, sitting upright on both sides of the long table.

Qin Feng found a seat towards the back and placed his briefcase on his lap.

At 8:50, a man in his forties wearing black-rimmed glasses walked in. He was wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and carrying a thick folder in his hand.

“Hello comrades, I am Jiang Liang, deputy director of the First Cadre Division.” The man’s voice was not loud, but clear and strong. “Welcome everyone.”

The sound of chairs being moved slightly could be heard in the conference room.

Jiang Liang glanced around, his gaze lingering on each person’s face for a moment.

Qin Feng subconsciously straightened his back.

“Originally, according to procedure, you should have reported to your respective units today after completing the formalities.” Jiang Liang opened the folder, “but due to some special reasons, the reporting has been postponed. You will undergo intensive training for the next month.”

Someone below turned their head slightly, but no one made a sound.

Qin Feng’s heart skipped a beat.

Training?

A month?

This wasn’t how he envisioned today—he should have gone to the Agriculture Bureau, met his superiors and colleagues, gotten a desk, familiarized himself with the environment, and then… then he could begin the regular and stable civil servant life he had been looking forward to.

What is this now?

Jiang Liang seemed to sense everyone’s confusion, but he didn’t explain. He simply continued, “During the training, food and accommodation will be arranged uniformly, and the discipline requirements will be stricter than at work. You must keep your mobile phone on 24 hours a day, and you are generally not allowed to take leave.”

He paused. “Is there a problem?”

No one raised their hand.

Qin Feng swallowed back the words that were about to come out.

What could he ask? Why? Could he not go?

Stop joking.

“Very good.” Jiang Liang closed the folder. “We’ll complete the formalities and collect the training materials this morning. We’ll meet here promptly at 2 PM to begin the first lesson.”

The procedures were completed very quickly.

I signed several documents, received my student ID, meal card, and a thick brown paper bag.

Qin Feng opened it and looked inside. Inside were a notebook, a pen, and a copy of “Code of Conduct for Civil Servants”.

We ate lunch at the government canteen.

Four dishes and one soup, served buffet style.

Qin Feng carried his tray and sat down in a corner, while his two colleagues next to him chatted quietly.

“I heard it’s a city-wide unified pre-job training program?”

“No, we didn’t do that in previous years; we went directly to our workplace.”

“Could it be…some kind of special mission?”

“What special mission could we possibly have? We’re a newbie.”

Qin Feng ate his meal in silence.

The braised pork was stewed until very tender, but he didn’t have much of an appetite.

At 2 p.m., a middle-aged woman in a uniform appeared in the conference room.

Qin Feng didn’t recognize the insignia on the shoulder straps, but they looked very serious.

“My surname is Zhou, and I’m in charge of confidentiality training.” The woman turned on the projector. “Before we begin, please silence your phones and place them in this box.”

A tin box was passed around on the table.

When Qin Feng put his phone in, the screen lit up briefly; it was a WeChat message from his mother: “Did the registration go smoothly?”

Before he could reply, the box was passed to the next person.

The training lasted for a full three hours.

Teacher Zhou talked about confidentiality regulations, cases of leaks, and legal responsibilities.

The red lettering on the projector was particularly glaring: “There are no small matters when it comes to keeping secrets” and “Leaking secrets is a crime.”

Qin Feng initially thought this had little to do with him—what secrets could a lowly clerk in the agricultural bureau have access to?

But as I listened, my back started to sweat.

Teacher Zhou gave an example: A regular staff member of the county’s agricultural bureau took a photo of an unpublished draft of a pro-farmer policy and posted it in a classmate group, causing it to spread widely. He was eventually dismissed from his post and held criminally liable.

“Don’t think that just because you’re in a low position, you won’t have access to sensitive information.” Teacher Zhou’s gaze was sharp. “A document, a piece of data, or even a single sentence could involve state secrets or work secrets.”

After the meeting, Qin Feng retrieved his phone and texted his mother: “It’s going well, I’m in training.”

He didn’t dare say more.

In the days that followed, Qin Feng lived a very regular life.

I get up at 6:30 in the morning, have breakfast at 7:00, and start class at 8:00.

The training content is diverse: official document writing, archives management, laws and regulations, and even public opinion response.

The third day’s class left a deep impression on Qin Feng.

The lecturer was an elderly section chief in his fifties, with gray hair, who spoke slowly and deliberately.

“Today we’re going to talk about document review.” The old director wrote a title on the blackboard. “What is an unreasonable document? For example: A township government issues a notice requiring all farmers to plant a specific variety of corn, otherwise their subsidies will be canceled.”

Some people below laughed.

“You think it’s absurd?” The old section chief pushed up his glasses. “This kind of document actually existed.”

Why does this happen?

Because the person who drafted it didn’t understand the law, or made assumptions, or… had ulterior motives.

He paused for a moment: “Your positions may be in various departments such as agriculture, education, and civil affairs.”

But one thing is in common: every document you handle may affect the lives of tens of thousands of ordinary people.

A single misspelled word could make someone make ten unnecessary trips.

Setting the wrong standard could cost a company millions.

Qin Feng suddenly felt as if the pen in his hand weighed a ton.

In the second week of training, simulated practical exercises began.

Group discussions, case analysis, and document drafting.

Among the five people in Qin Feng’s group, he discovered that he actually had the best writing skills—after all, he had written all sorts of messy reports for three years at his previous company.

There was a girl in the same group named Lin Wei, who was assigned to the Education Bureau. She whispered to him, “Qin Feng, this passage you wrote is really good, the logic is clear.”

Qin Feng was a little embarrassed: “I just checked it a few more times.”

“You used to work as a secretary?”

“I guess so,” Qin Feng said without elaborating.

He didn’t want to mention that lousy company.

The atmosphere became increasingly subtle as the training progressed.

Everyone was privately speculating: Why such a big fuss?

Someone found out that in previous years, new employees would go directly to their workplaces, with at most two days of internal training.

I’ve never heard of such a city-wide, closed-off training program that involves so much sensitive content.

On the twenty-fifth day, a new course, “Basic Knowledge of Discipline Inspection and Supervision,” suddenly appeared on the timetable.

The lecturer was serious and unsmiling; the two-hour class consisted entirely of case studies and disciplinary rules.

That night, Qin Feng lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

He had a vague feeling that this training might be more than just training.

But what can he do?

He’s just a nobody; he can just follow along.

The last day, September 30th.

The final exam was in the morning, and the debriefing meeting was in the afternoon.

Jiang Liang reappeared in the conference room.

Accompanying him was a middle-aged man around fifty years old.

He had a square face, thick eyebrows, and wore a dark blue jacket; his mere presence inspired awe.

“Comrades, this is Director Wang Jianguo from the Municipal Commission for Discipline Inspection and Supervision,” Jiang Liang introduced.

Wang Jianguo nodded, but didn’t smile.

His gaze swept across the entire room, and Qin Feng felt that his gaze could see right through a person.

“A month of training, you’ve worked hard.” Wang Jianguo’s voice was deep, with a certain metallic quality. “You must be wondering why we’re doing this kind of special training.”

The conference room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“The reason is simple,” Wang Jianguo said. “All 23 of you are newly recruited civil servants this year.”

“Clean background, simple social relationships, recent graduate or not long in the workforce, and has not yet formed a complex interpersonal network.”

Qin Feng’s palms began to sweat.

“After a month of training, you have a basic grasp of laws, regulations, disciplinary requirements, and official document standards.” Wang Jianguo paused. “Now, the Municipal Commission for Discipline Inspection is investigating an important case and needs manpower. You have been temporarily assigned to participate in the peripheral work.”

Finally, someone in the audience couldn’t help but gasp.

Qin Feng’s mind went blank.

Discipline Inspection Commission?

Investigating a case?

Him? A lowly clerk who just wants to lie low?

“During your secondment, your affiliation will remain with the Organization Department, your benefits will remain unchanged, and your performance evaluation will be conducted separately.” Wang Jianguo’s tone left no room for doubt. “This is the organization’s decision, and it is also your responsibility.”

He glanced at Jiang Liang.

Jiang Liang stood up: “Now, please hand over all your mobile phones and electronic devices. We will keep them safe.”

The tin box was passed around again.

This time, Qin Feng’s hand trembled slightly when he put his phone down.

“Those who have handed over their equipment, gather at the entrance and we’ll take the bus to our work locations together,” Wang Jianguo concluded. “Remember the training content. Remember your identities.”

Qin Feng stood up, his legs feeling a little weak.

He followed the group out of the conference room, and the only sound in the corridor was footsteps.

Two minibuses were parked at the entrance of the compound, their curtains drawn, obscuring the view inside.

Wang Jianguo stood beside the car, calling out names one by one as people boarded.

When it was Qin Feng’s turn, Wang Jianguo glanced at him again: “Qin Feng?”

“yes.”

“A position in the Agriculture Bureau?”

“yes.”

“Get in the car.”

Qin Feng stepped onto the minibus steps.

The car was already half full, but no one was talking; they were all looking out the window or looking down.

He found a seat by the window and sat down.

After the last person got on the bus, the door slammed shut.

The car started and slowly drove out of the Organization Department compound.

As Qin Feng watched the familiar streets recede outside the window, he suddenly remembered that afternoon a month ago when he left that run-down company carrying a cardboard box.

The world is indeed very big.

But it seems that it’s not quite the world he wanted to see.