Chapter 18: A Stunning Performance

Each participant in the group interview played their own role, each with its own advantages, but the riskiest position was that of the leader. Taking on this role made one highly susceptible to losing control of the situation and failing, especially as the timekeeper often tried to steer the discussion to showcase their own abilities. Yet if someone could command the room, the leader could shine brilliantly.

Tao Zhiming preferred the role of the reporter. As the last to speak, he would deliver the final summary directly to the interviewers, a scenario that allowed him to make the most of his calm, steady demeanor. This quality might not necessarily yield the best results as a leader guiding the discussion. What if the group was inclined to argue? Moreover, there was the unpredictable factor of Yokohisa Yamagane.

The first person to introduce himself seemed eager to establish his reputation as an energetic and outgoing character. He immediately suggested, “Shall we first appoint a timekeeper? It’s easier if someone is wearing a watch. Would anyone like to take on this role?”

Tao Zhiming didn’t wear a watch, but he had to admit this was an efficient way to break the ice. Was this person aiming for the leader’s role? He was already attempting to steer the conversation.

Soon, a girl wearing a watch volunteered, “I can be the timekeeper.” Yet Yamagane immediately interjected, “I can do it as well.” He said no more, but his assertive tone was hard to ignore.

Ultimately, under the guidance of the first speaker, a vote was held and Yokohisa Yamagane was chosen as timekeeper. In less than a minute, it seemed everyone had tacitly agreed that he would take on the leader’s responsibilities.

At that moment, Tao Zhiming finally spoke up: “I’d like to volunteer as the reporter. I will faithfully recount everyone’s remarks and our final conclusion, demonstrating the results we’ve achieved as a team. Please trust me!”

With his emphasis on honest reporting and a direct appeal for trust, it would be hard for anyone to object without appearing uncooperative. With a single sentence, Tao Zhiming secured the role he desired.

Once a note-taker was also selected, the discussion began in earnest. The assignment was clear: five alternatives, a set budget, and a goal—to reach a unified plan.

Despite being the one to deliver the final report, Tao Zhiming did not forgo participating in the discussion itself.

“...Sponsoring the school anniversary seems appealing, given the number of distinguished guests. But unless we are the sole sponsor, Sumitomo’s name may not stand out...”

“Establishing scholarships would project Sumitomo’s sense of social responsibility. However, to yield significant recruitment effects, it would take considerable time...”

“Sponsoring club activities has too limited an impact. We’ve all experienced club life—people from different backgrounds are like living in separate worlds...”

Listening to the exchange, it was clear that the participants were not without insight. The students applying to Sumitomo were certainly capable.

Suddenly, Tao Zhiming interjected in a discussion tone, “I’d like to add some important context, if I may.”

The self-appointed leader responded, “Please elaborate, Tao.”

Tao Zhiming explained, “Given the current economic boom, we can’t only consider static factors. The student recruitment landscape has shifted dramatically in recent years. With expanded financing channels, major companies now have far more funds at their disposal, and the battle for talent is intensifying. This is an important trend we mustn’t overlook.”

His words prompted a brief silence and reflection. Yamagane remarked, “Indeed. Plans that highlight Sumitomo’s strength should be prioritized...”

Having pointed out this crucial angle, Tao Zhiming simply resumed listening intently. But it was clear that his observation addressed the core reason behind the assignment’s design. As a top-tier company, Sumitomo no longer needed to focus on image or influence. The real challenge was to counter competitors lavishly spending to lure students. The fact that the prompt specified Sumitomo indicated a defensive problem—responding to others’ aggression.

Tao Zhiming’s intervention subtly redirected the discussion with pinpoint accuracy. One of the four interviewers glanced at him, barely perceptibly.

Sure enough, after a pause, another participant declared, “Ongoing activities have long-term benefits. Sponsoring club events could be a good approach. Clubs could host regular lectures on campus, inviting Sumitomo alumni to share their experiences. Showcasing the status, income, and meaningful work of Sumitomo employees, as well as their vibrant lives, would foster the impression: ‘Choosing Sumitomo means choosing a broader, more imaginative future...’”

He was on a roll, but Yamagane quickly interjected, “Given time constraints, our colleague from Tsukuba hasn’t spoken much. Let’s hear from him.”

It was a tactful way to cut off the monologue and allow others to contribute.

The group interview continued in this atmosphere. Everyone wanted to stand out and compete, while maintaining the façade of a cooperative team discussion.

Tao Zhiming was somewhat surprised that the heated arguments he had anticipated never arose. This was, after all, the 1980s, and these were some of the brightest students from top universities in Japan—yet they all intuitively maintained this balance. Perhaps it was due to underlying cultural tendencies towards politeness. Unlike Kyoko Okita, they were more attuned to the subtleties and taboos of the interview setting.

Although Tao Zhiming’s role was to deliver the final summary, that didn’t preclude him from contributing during the open discussion. He never spoke at length, but with a few words, he would repeatedly inspire others, pushing the proposals towards greater detail and innovation. Subtly, he was doing a better job of guiding the discussion framework than the nominal leader.

Everyone noticed. Yamagane’s gaze at him became increasingly complex, and both the other participants and the interviewers deepened their impression from Tao Zhiming’s introduction: this person had broad vision and clear goals.

After twenty minutes of free discussion, it was time for Tao Zhiming to deliver the final report. He stood up, without consulting any notes, and calmly began:

“In our twenty-minute discussion, we established that the objective is not solely to target this university’s students, but to leverage the event for maximum publicity. Our task is to demonstrate Sumitomo’s strength, sincerity, and potential, and to convey to top university students that ‘Sumitomo is an excellent choice.’ During the discussion...”

He clearly cited the names of each of the other seven participants and their valuable contributions, then concluded:

“Therefore, we recommend organizing a competition, with teams from various university clubs. The main portion of the budget would go towards hosting the event and awarding prizes, tapping into the clubs’ sense of honor and enthusiasm, and relying on them to spread the word on campus.

Simultaneously, Sumitomo would allocate funds to amplify the impact of the prizes. Outstanding Sumitomo alumni from each university could serve as mentors, letting current students witness first-hand the prestige and prosperity of Sumitomo employees.

A five-million-yen grand prize—though half the total budget—would itself be major news and create a sensational effect, highly attractive to students and in keeping with Sumitomo’s image and stature. By generating news, we could save on media costs, and having Sumitomo’s president attend the award ceremony would serve as a symbol of honor.

Finally, my personal addition: for students reaching the final round, though they may still be in their second or third year, Sumitomo could express its intention to offer them early, conditional employment. If this practice became the norm, Sumitomo would outpace its competitors by securing top students a year in advance.”

He finished his speech and sat down, ushering in the final round of questions from the interviewers.

The first question was directed at Tao Zhiming: “Expressing intent to hire students a year early breaks with convention. Given the long gap before graduation and the uncertainties involved, how would you address this?”

Tao Zhiming replied confidently, “Breaking conventions will become increasingly common. Sumitomo doesn’t need to eliminate all uncertainties—only to ensure that outstanding students understand: for the sake of talent, Sumitomo is willing to break the mold. This itself becomes a source of honor and accomplishment for the students, and reinforces Sumitomo’s image and influence. Whether these students ultimately join Sumitomo is no longer the point of this particular event, but rather a matter for HR to follow up on.”

The interviewer gave no explicit opinion, but a trace of amusement flickered in his eyes.

To be able to instantly grasp the essence of a question and deliver such a sharp answer—well said, indeed. Breaking conventions will become increasingly common.

That point was truly irrelevant. Rules exist to be broken. A few years ago, who would have imagined offering gifts to students with conditional job offers?

This man had delivered a remarkable performance.

Compared to the other students, he already possessed the bearing of someone capable of independent command.