CTJM - 4

Chapter 4: Argument

“Step down?”

Luo Hua raised an eyebrow.

“Why?”

This question required a careful response; otherwise, it would be easy for her superior to dismiss her concerns lightly.

“I’m still very unfamiliar with the approach to documentary-style filming, and I rarely handle promotional content. At this stage, I might steer the project off course,” she said cautiously. “The influence of this film for University A is enormous. If I take charge directly, I might cause delays.”

What a reasonable explanation—it was practically an airtight excuse.

“Delays?” Unfortunately, Luo Hua wasn’t buying it. “I’m well aware of the caliber of people from your program center, especially since you were personally trained by Director He. How could you possibly cause delays?”

Yin Mengxi frowned and tried again. “But…”

“No buts.”

Luo Hua waved his hand dismissively, already lowering his head to check the stock market again.

“Little Yin, don’t overthink it,” he said casually, arranging things as he pleased. “I’ve already handed this task over to you. Just go ahead and do it. If it succeeds, it’s yours. If it fails, it’s on me. Don’t feel any pressure.”

Yin Mengxi: “….”

Luo Hua truly lived up to his reputation as a seasoned veteran of the workplace—his lies flowed smoother than hers. What nonsense was this about “if it succeeds, it’s yours; if it fails, it’s mine”? Was he a responsible person? Would a responsible person push a major project onto a newcomer just to avoid blame? Would a responsible person spend all day slacking off on the job while still getting paid?

Yin Mengxi pressed her lips together, refusing to give up on her request. Perhaps she might grit her teeth and take on another project, but University A…

…She was certain she no longer had the emotional energy to face that person again.

“Teacher Luo,” she tried once more. “I…”

“Little Yin.”

—To her surprise, Luo Hua interrupted her again.

He looked up, lifting his eyelids to study her with an ambiguous expression, as though probing her or perhaps already seeing through her completely.

“Are you throwing a tantrum?”

He asked bluntly.

“Because you lost to Zheng Ze and he took the position of producer for the station’s new variety show?”

“Or because Sun Jianbin gave you a hard time and kicked you out of the program center, leaving you dissatisfied?”

“So what do you plan to do?”

“Quit? Resign?”

“Or are you going to slack off and coast until retirement?”

One sentence after another pierced her heart like needles.

Yin Mengxi’s face suddenly turned pale as a series of unpleasant images flashed through her mind—the shattered fragments of a toppled wine cabinet, a flying woman’s handbag, and the mocking, disdainful gazes of passersby in the hotel corridor…

…All vividly replayed before her eyes.

But Luo Hua paid no heed to her pain, leisurely observing his subordinate’s distressed expression. His demeanor remained utterly nonchalant, as though he had seen it all before. After a pause, he added, “I’m over fifty—I can afford to wait. In a few more years, I’ll retire and collect my pension. You’re not even thirty yet. Can you afford to waste time like this?”

“Little Yin, I’ve heard about you. They all say you’re very capable.”

“What? Now that Director He has retired and your protective umbrella is gone, are you unable to work?”

“So, were your past successes due to your own abilities?”

“Or were they thanks to Director He’s guidance?”

It was 5 PM—quitting time.

People from other departments were still busy. The guests hadn’t been confirmed, the stage wasn’t fully set up, and the outdoor shoots weren’t wrapped yet… Everyone had something to do. But their documentary channel was quiet, truly adhering to a strict 9-to-5 schedule.

Yin Mengxi practically walked out of the office with the second hand of the clock, the oppressive atmosphere suffocating her. She couldn’t bear to stay a moment longer. Once she stepped into the corridor, she felt slightly clearer-headed. As she stepped into the elevator and looked outside, it was still raining.

Damn weather.

Her expression remained blank, appearing outwardly normal as if nothing was wrong. All her frustration and gloom were neatly tucked away inside. The elevator dinged as it reached the first floor, and she quickly stepped out, only to unexpectedly bump into Zheng Ze and Liu Xiaoting, who were about to enter the elevator. It seemed the saying “enemies always meet in narrow paths” held true after all.

“Oh, isn’t this Teacher Yin?”

Zheng Ze’s voice was even more nauseating than his punchable face—his tone fluctuating awkwardly, making listening to him feel like a form of torture.

“Leaving so early?” he persisted, his uneven eyes mocking her with a smirk, convinced he was delivering a clever jab. “I envy you. Moving to the documentary channel must be much easier, right? Oh, but we’re just unlucky. Our program is about to start filming, and all the preparations are such a hassle!”

“I was just telling Xiaoting the other day—we’re destined for hard work. Look at this program, Never Stopping Us. No kidding—it really feels like we’ll never stop working!”

He then burst into loud, self-satisfied laughter.

In the workplace, you’re bound to encounter colleagues like this: oily, stupid, arrogant, laughable, yet with an unshakable confidence. They love to snatch things from others’ hands. You’d think such fools would soon get schooled by society, but somehow they thrive far better than earnest people like you—by at least five hundred times.

“Not wrong,” Liu Xiaoting chimed in, laughing exaggeratedly. “Mengxi really is lucky. Director Sun took care of her. As soon as things got busy, she transferred out to avoid the workload. Others can’t even dream of such luck.”

Ah yes, there’s also this type: utterly useless, incapable of doing anything right, but excels at fawning and smiling along. When necessary, they’ll even sacrifice their dignity, transforming themselves into seemingly unstoppable “strong women.” On the surface, they appear professional and respectable, but behind closed doors, strip away the veneer, and who knows what lies beneath?

—When these two types collide, it’s truly a nightmare. The former makes you want to vomit, and the latter revives you just to make you vomit again, forcing you to endure the misery.

Yin Mengxi took a deep breath, initially intending to keep enduring. But everything she’d endured today had pushed her patience to its breaking point—it was becoming impossible to hold back.

“I am quite relaxed,” she said with a smile, looking at Zheng Ze. “But I don’t think Teacher Zheng is particularly busy either, right? From what I know, the program is still using the proposal I drafted when I was at the program center. You haven’t contributed much, so how can you claim to be so exhausted?”

Zheng Ze’s face immediately darkened. This man had no grace—he was quick to anger, and when truly provoked, might even resort to violence against women.

“You—”

But Yin Mengxi wasn’t afraid. She didn’t believe he’d dare do anything to her in public. Turning to Liu Xiaoting beside him, she added another sharp jab: “Though Xiaoting, you must be quite busy, right? Besides working with Teacher Zheng, you also have to find time to help Director Sun. Do you have enough energy?”

Not a single dirty word, yet her words pierced their egos like a sieve.

“You—”

Yin Mengxi sneered inwardly, thinking how perfectly suited this despicable pair was. In person, they could only stutter “you,” but behind her back, they spewed endless slander. She had no interest in continuing this exchange and turned to walk toward the exit. However, the two tried to argue further—especially Liu Xiaoting, who seemed ready to lunge at her hair.

Ping—

At that moment, another elevator nearby dinged open. Wei Chi emerged, brightening at the sight of Yin Mengxi. “Sister Mengxi!” he called cheerfully.

“I was just looking for you upstairs. How did you leave so soon?”

He acted as if he hadn’t noticed Zheng Ze and Liu Xiaoting, walking straight to Yin Mengxi’s side.

“Let’s go eat! Didn’t we agree last time? I still owe you a meal.”

The young man was clueless about reading the room or understanding the tense atmosphere. His abrupt arrival inadvertently diffused the tension, preventing it from escalating further.

However, Yin Mengxi ignored him, simply saying, “Maybe next time,” before walking resolutely toward the exit. Her long, straight hair swayed gracefully with her steps, exuding elegance.

“Don’t keep postponing!” Wei Chi chased after her. “How many times have you said ‘next time’ already?”

“This Yin Mengxi!” Liu Xiaoting stomped her foot angrily, still muttering curses on the spot. “Such an insolent brat! She deserves to stay poor her whole life!”

Zheng Ze was also angry, but the passersby had started giving him and Liu Xiaoting strange looks. As a rising producer, he had to maintain his image and couldn’t afford to join in the cursing. So, he casually consoled her: “Forget it. She’s just cornered like a desperate dog…”

“What good does being sharp-tongued do?”

“Offending Director Sun means she’ll never rise again in this station!”