"Ashun, look, this thing isn't a scam."
In a small city in the southeast province, early in the morning. A young breakfast shop owner was dragging a delivery guy into the kitchen, showing him an invitation with golden embossing—the metal casing was exquisite. Flipping it open, it contained elegantly calligraphed words: "XXX, you have successfully registered for the first XX Conference. Please report to XX Province, XX City, XX County, XX Location before XX date of XX month of XX year, and wait for the test to begin."
The signature below was from the Chinese Sorcery Research Society, followed by five joint signatures, exceedingly formal and of high quality.
"This is definitely a scam," said the delivery guy named Ashun, taking off his helmet, "Hurry up with the food; I need to make deliveries."
"Don't rush." The little boss held on to the delivery guy, "You're so skilled, what if you were actually chosen?"
