CTJM - 5

Chapter 5: Constriction

Even though it was past quitting time, the underground parking garage of the station was still packed to the brim.

It was like a small luxury car exhibition. Cars of all shapes and sizes—both recognizable brands and obscure ones—were parked together, their odd forms hinting at their exorbitant prices. Occasionally, a more conventional minivan would pull in or out, and the familiar faces of well-known artists would emerge, rushing into the station to record their shows before departing just as quickly.

Of course, not everyone could live such a glamorous life—for instance, Yin Mengxi, who owned only a second-hand white Audi A4 worth about 100,000 yuan.

At first glance, this might not seem impressive, but for an ordinary person, it was no small feat. A girl from a small southern city, without her parents’ support, had come to City A alone to study. After graduating from university, her biggest dream was to save enough money to buy a small home of her own here. But with property prices reaching astronomical levels of 50,000 yuan per square meter, owning a home became an unattainable luxury. The best she could do was provide herself with a decent means of transportation. Two years ago, she gritted her teeth and bought the car, finally freeing herself from the daily grind of squeezing onto overcrowded subways.

The car was important to her—it helped maintain the basic dignity expected of a modern urban professional, especially someone in the media industry. As long as she had it, her fast-fashion clothes, which averaged 150 yuan per piece, looked like they were worth 500 or 600 yuan, allowing her to step out with confidence.

At that moment, she settled into the driver’s seat, just fastening her seatbelt when the passenger door was suddenly opened from the outside. Wei Chi slid in with a mischievous grin, the black stud in his left ear still faintly gleaming under the dim lights of the underground garage.

“What are you doing?” Yin Mengxi frowned, a trace of irritation in her voice.

Wei Chi was no fool; he could tell Yin Mengxi was in a bad mood. Initially planning to insist on taking her out for dinner, he quickly switched tactics and began playing the sympathy card. “Sis, it’s raining outside. Can you drop me off? I’m just heading to Wuchuan Road—it’s not out of the way at all.”

There was a fundamental difference between “sis” and “sister.” The former was a subordinate trying to cozy up to their superior in the workplace, while the latter carried flirtatious undertones—a subtle form of coquetry. Young men these days were much more clever and adept at turning on the charm when needed.

“What about your car?” Yin Mengxi, however, remained oblivious to his advances. “Didn’t bring it?”

Wei Chi owned a flashy silver Mercedes-Benz coupe, far more luxurious than her second-hand Audi A4.

“My dad won’t let me drive it anymore,” he explained as he buckled his seatbelt. “He says I need to stay low-key at the station and not draw attention.”

That made sense.

A young cameraman driving a car fancier than those of the higher-ups would surely attract unwanted attention.

But did Wei Chi really need to worry about “career advancement”? A wealthy young heir dabbling in photography with dreams of becoming a director, he had joined the station merely to build connections. It was likely he’d eventually strike out on his own anyway, so why bother caring what the bosses thought?

These kids with safety nets behind them…

…must be living such blessed lives.

As the car merged onto the road, rush hour traffic was predictably gridlocked. The relentless drizzle only added to the frustration, and the car fell silent.

“Did you get into an argument with those two?”

Wei Chi suddenly broke the silence.

“What was it about?”

“Was it still about them snatching that project from you?”

Yin Mengxi didn’t respond, simply signaling to turn at the intersection.

Wei Chi shrugged, then tried to console her. “Don’t be too upset. Everyone knows what really happened. That program was entirely your work during the early stages. It’s just that Sun Jianbin pulled a dirty move, letting Zheng Ze and Liu Xiaoting take advantage of the situation…”

A dirty move?

Indeed.

Sun Jianbin had only taken over as the head of the program center six months ago. From the start, he was eager to replace the people cultivated by his predecessor, Director He Yarong. And Yin Mengxi? She had worked closely with Director He since graduation, maintaining a close and supportive relationship with the female leader. Naturally, she became one of his targets.

But Sun Jianbin hadn’t immediately replaced her. On the contrary, he initially treated her kindly, occasionally praising her in front of colleagues. Gradually, however, things shifted. During meetings, he would subtly brush his foot against hers under the table. When passing by her, he would lightly touch her arm—ambiguous, invasive gestures that left no tangible evidence for her to confront him with.

She had never encountered such behavior before and didn’t know how to handle it properly. She didn’t want to lose her job or jeopardize her career path, so she endured it multiple times. Perhaps her avoidance gave him the wrong impression, leading him to believe he could push further. One day, after attending a sponsorship event for Never Stopping at a hotel, he cornered her in a secluded spot outside the banquet hall. The man, in his forties or fifties, reeked of an unpleasant odor. With a revolting smirk, he tilted her chin, his intentions unmistakably clear.

“Little Yin, I admire you greatly...”

“This program can be yours, and I can also help you secure the position of assistant director in the future...”

“But you mustn’t disappoint me. You were so close to Director He back then. Now, don’t show favoritism to others, alright?”

He was overweight, his hands short and stubby. He tried to grope her thigh and even attempted to undo the hidden clasp of her bra through her shirt. Disgusted, she felt goosebumps rise across her skin. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to slap him hard across the face. But she knew she couldn’t—not if she wanted to continue working at the station, not if she wanted to settle down in City A, not if she wanted her career to progress. She had to find a smart way to resolve this mess.

Suppressing the urge to lash out, she trembled with suppressed rage. Her mind, frozen in panic, struggled to calculate a solution. Just then, a woman roughly the same size as Sun Jianbin stormed down the hotel corridor—a brightly colored handbag flew directly toward her, striking her squarely on the nose. Before blood could trickle down, the woman delivered a resounding slap—

Slap!

“Fox spirit! Fox spirit!”

“Shameless woman who seduces men!”

“You’ll die a miserable death—”

The memory ended here.

There was more to it, but she no longer wanted to recall. The final outcome was that Sun Jianbin had kicked her out of the program center and reassigned all her projects and resources to different people. Zheng Ze, in particular, had taken the largest piece of the pie.

—God knew how much effort she had poured into Never Stopping. She had worked on proposals and coordinated with the team even while running a high fever of 39°C. She had hoped it would become a breakout hit, allowing her to earn enough money to buy a house and live a truly comfortable life. But because of a sexual harassment incident, all her dreams had turned to dust. Everything she had worked for was taken away from her.

Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. At this moment, Yin Mengxi exuded an aggressive aura—but she didn’t want to lash out at innocent people. Wei Chi was blameless; he didn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire.

She remained silent, her emotions tightly wound, only pressing hard on the accelerator to drive fast. Wei Chi, sensing the tension, also stayed quiet, occasionally stealing glances at her cold, beautiful profile. Her facial features were actually quite gentle, with soft, elegant phoenix eyes and faint dimples that appeared when she smiled. It was her tense expression that made her appear aloof. He rarely saw her relax, and now he couldn’t help but wonder when she would genuinely smile again.

Such a woman… would look stunning when she smiled.

After dropping Wei Chi off at Wuchuan Road, Yin Mengxi turned the car around and headed back to her rented apartment.

Opening the door, the lights were off. Her roommate, Min Rui, hadn’t returned yet—perhaps still working overtime or out having fun. Unlike Yin Mengxi, Min Rui lived a much freer, more comfortable life.

Yin Mengxi placed her bag in her room and stepped into the bathroom for a hot shower. Half an hour later, she emerged, opening the bathroom door to let out a cloud of steam. She already felt slightly dizzy.

Her steps were unsteady as she walked back to her room and collapsed onto the bed. The surreal events of the day had left her utterly exhausted. Though her current life at the documentary channel was far less hectic than her days at the program center, her sense of fatigue had been magnified a hundredfold, leaving even her fingertips feeling numb.

Scrolling through her phone, she spotted the promotional updates for Never Stopping trending online. A few celebrity guests had been officially announced, and fans were screaming, “Ahh, oppa, oppa!” The industry also held high expectations for the program’s innovative approach. All these accolades should have belonged to her, but now she could only silently observe from an obscure corner.

Damn it!

Frustrated, she threw her phone down. It was too expensive to damage, so she merely tossed it gently onto the thick carpet, pretending to vent. Her pent-up frustration remained entirely unresolved. Rolling over, she decided to sleep, even though it was barely 7:30 PM. Just as she closed her eyes, she heard noises at the door—her roommate, Min Rui, had returned.

Relieved, she thought about going out to chat with her. But just as her hand touched the doorknob, she heard a man’s heavy breathing. It seemed Min Rui had brought her boyfriend home—they wouldn’t have time to chat right now.

She retreated to her bed, staring blankly at the bare ceiling above her. The landlord didn’t allow tenants to modify the walls, so it remained plain and empty. But she disliked emptiness. She loved greenery—if this were her own house, she would paint lush little trees on the ceiling.

Ping—

While lost in thought, her phone vibrated again. She ignored it for a long time, too lazy to check. A wave of melancholy washed over her, wondering who would bother contacting someone like her, who had lost everything, including her career. After a while, she reluctantly reached under the bed to retrieve her phone. Opening it, she found several new messages from Yao Anqi.

A Word document titled “[0304] Updated Script for University A School of Liberal Arts Promotional Video.”

And a few lines of text—

“Teacher Yin~ I’ve updated the script file. Please take another look. If you have any feedback, feel free to contact me—I’m always online~”

“Also, I just coordinated with the School of Liberal Arts. Professors Pan and Zhang can only make time later this month, but Professor Xiao’s schedule is confirmed—he’s available tomorrow~”

“Shall we go together tomorrow?”

“Sorry to disturb your rest~ Thank you for your hard work!”

Finally, a cute “good night” emoji.

—A typical, overwhelming enthusiasm characteristic of a newcomer.

But—

...Would she have to face him again tomorrow?

Yin Mengxi closed her eyes, suddenly feeling as though the world had grown even narrower and more suffocating.