Psst! We're moving!
Her internship life officially began.
The program team Yin Mengxi joined held an awkward position within the station—neither too important nor unimportant. Originally scheduled to air in mid-July, the broadcast was delayed due to some issues with sponsorships. It was uncertain whether it would still make it into the summer prime time slot.
On her first day, she barely had time to greet her department colleagues before her mentor shoved her into a workstation and dumped two thick contact books on her desk. In rapid-fire speech, the mentor instructed, “This is the list of candidates. The ones highlighted in red are those we’re unsure about attending. Call them as quickly as possible to confirm their availability—speed is key.”
With that, the mentor rushed off without even teaching her a standard script.
The other intern who joined the team with her was a boy named Jin Yu, a fourth-year student from C University—a decent school, but clearly not on par with A University’s School of Journalism. Yin Mengxi assumed the TV station hired him because of his extensive experience in the industry, so she immediately treated him with respect.
Jin Yu was friendly toward her too. After asking her name, he started calling her “Xixi” enthusiastically. Then, looking at the equally thick contact books on his desk, he made a face and complained, “I can’t believe we’re already this busy… We’ve got it rough, huh?”
Yin Mengxi didn’t feel particularly burdened. What job wasn’t tiring? Could anything be more exhausting than the college entrance exam? She figured she could tough it out—it was worth it for a good future.
With the determination to perform well, she quickly got into the swing of things that day. The show was a singing competition featuring amateur contestants and celebrity mentors. The thick contact books contained the phone numbers and personal details of potential participants. Her task was to call each one to confirm their availability and willingness to participate, especially given the recording might be postponed to mid-August.
“Yes, that’s correct. Recording may be pushed back to mid-August…”
“I need to confirm the reimbursement policy for travel expenses and get back to you—yes, this number is correct, right?”
“Sorry, sorry, there’s been an issue on our end. Apologies…”
She was highly responsible, adapting to the situation after just one day and even apologizing for problems caused by others. She diligently jotted down notes during calls and immediately dialed the next number without giving herself even five seconds to breathe.
“You’re really going all out…” Jin Yu shook his head in admiration. “Drink some water—your voice is already hoarse.”
How could it not be?
From nine in the morning to six in the evening, she had been talking nonstop.
Jin Yu bought her a bottle of water. Grateful, she thanked him and offered to pay him back, but he waved it off with a laugh. “Forget the money. How about grabbing dinner together? It’s mealtime.”
It was indeed mealtime, and technically quitting time too. But since some of the senior staff were still working late, the interns couldn’t leave either—they had to stay and pull an all-nighter.
“I’ll pass—I still have many calls to make,” she politely declined. Glancing at Jin Yu’s desk, she noticed he had only gone through a few pages of his first book, less than half of what she’d completed. “Are you encountering any difficulties?”
He shrugged, smiling and waving it off. “Not really—just not as driven as you. Everything else is fine…”
Pausing, he glanced around the bustling office and lowered his voice. “Actually, you could relax a bit. They’re busy with their own stuff—they won’t notice you…”
Was he… encouraging her to slack off?
She was surprised, unsure how to respond. He laughed again. “Your efficiency is making me look bad. My mentor might scold me later.” She was at a loss for words, standing silently for a few seconds.
Ring, ring—
Thankfully, her phone rang at that moment. It was Xiao Zhi calling at their agreed-upon daily check-in time.
“Excuse me, I’ll step out to take this call…” Yin Mengxi nodded to Jin Yu.
Casually laughing, he asked as she stood up, “Boyfriend?”
She froze, finding the question somewhat abrupt. After all, they had only met today, and it wasn’t appropriate to pry into someone’s private life like that.
“…Yes,” she replied politely nonetheless.
“Hello?”
Stepping quietly from the main office to a corner in the hallway, her voice was already hoarse when she answered the call.
The person on the other end clearly paused, then concern crossed the ocean, asking, “What’s wrong with your throat? Are you sick?”
He sounded worried.
Warmth spread through her chest, tasting faintly sweet. She explained, “No, I just talked a lot today…”
“Still busy with the internship?” He still sounded tense, his voice strained. “You’re not done yet?”
“Yeah,” her throat was dry, every word requiring effort, but she tried to sound normal. “The team’s busy, trying to catch up on deadlines…”
—Always catching up.
Reflecting on it, it was almost uncanny how every project group she joined seemed to face an unusual level of busyness.
…Was this fate?
“Have you eaten?” he asked. If they were together, she would surely see his tightly furrowed brows. “Take a break, drink some water, and buy some throat lozenges.”
How regrettable.
If he hadn’t left… he would have taken care of these things for her.
“Got it,” she softly promised, small waves of委屈 and longing fermenting simultaneously. “Don’t worry.”
“How can I not worry?” He sighed on the other end, seemingly ready to persuade her again. “Do you really have to do this internship? Can’t you delay it or find something less demanding?”
There was no need for her to work this hard.
At least not this urgently.
“Ah…” She shook her head where he couldn’t see, bearing pressures unknown to him. “It took so much effort to land this internship—I have to do it well…”
He seemed about to say more, but at that moment, a director walked out of the main office and spotted her on the phone. Waving her over, the teacher called out, “Xiao Yin, are you free? Help grab some takeout meals from the cafeteria!”
Startled, she quickly covered the receiver and shouted back a loud “Okay”—though her already hoarse voice inadvertently cracked.
“I’ll hang up now,” she whispered while running toward the elevator. “I’ll call you back when I’m home—bye.”
Beep, beep, beep—
The call ended.
But ultimately, she never called him back that night.
The planning teachers worked until ten or eleven in the office, practically releasing people just in time for the last subway. Some teachers living nearby stayed behind to continue working, reminding the interns as they left, “Don’t turn off your phones after returning home—we might contact you if needed.”
Contact again…?
Even Jin Yu was speechless now, and even someone as diligent as Yin Mengxi found it hard to believe. Their mentor, Chen Chen, glanced at the two of them and smiled meaningfully, saying, “That’s how this industry works. You’ll get used to it over time—the more you endure, the more you grow; the more you invest, the more you gain. Keep pushing forward.”
With that, she went to refill her coffee, leaving them wondering what time she’d finally leave the station tonight.
Even on the subway ride home, Yin Mengxi’s mind was still replaying Teacher Chen’s words of encouragement. Clearly, her first day on the internship far exceeded her expectations. As she zoned out, her phone kept buzzing incessantly in her pocket—it was a string of updated work documents in the group chat, listing a bunch of items to confirm the next day. Despite being physically and mentally exhausted, she typed responses full of energy in the empty subway car—
“Got it, thanks~”
“Understood, thank you, Teacher!”
“My pleasure~ Teachers, you’ve worked hard!”
Back in her empty dorm, after washing up and collapsing onto her bed, she glanced at her phone—it was almost midnight. He had sent several messages asking if she was back in the dorm and when she’d be available to talk. She wanted to reply but was truly too tired. Subconsciously, she felt he wouldn’t approve of this internship—if he knew she returned home after midnight, he’d surely urge her to quit. To avoid conflict, she chose to hide it from him.
She: I’m back, I’m back (o^^o) I accidentally fell asleep after showering and forgot to tell you…
She: My throat feels a bit sore today, so I won’t call you. Let’s talk tomorrow~
He didn’t reply immediately—life abroad wasn’t easy either, filled with challenges to adapt to. She waited for a while without receiving a response, and exhaustion finally overtook her. Her eyelids drooped, and within minutes, she drifted into a deep sleep.
His reply came belatedly—
Him: …Okay.
Each subsequent day felt like a repeat of the first.
The work never ended. It took her three or four days to finish calling the contacts assigned to her. Meanwhile, Jin Yu still had half a book left. Furious, the mentor handed part of his workload to Yin Mengxi, forcing her to work an extra day. Through throat lozenges and herbal remedies, she managed to keep her voice from completely giving out.
And this was only the first step.
The schedule design submitted to the program center was rejected, prompting the planners to hold an emergency meeting overnight to revise the plan. The way professionals argued was far wilder than anything she’d seen at school. Some male teachers openly swore, turning the meeting chaotic—it sounded like a heated argument. Sitting below, taking notes, Yin Mengxi was stunned. She never imagined a workplace could have such an atmosphere…
The entire team argued for two days. The proposals they came up with sounded mediocre to her, but she didn’t dare voice her thoughts, fearing backlash from the agitated teachers. What if they swore at her? She wouldn’t know how to handle it.
Fortunately, order was soon restored—the program center’s leadership arrived. It was a female teacher in her forties or fifties, short-haired, wearing glasses, dressed in a neutral style that exuded professionalism. Her perpetually furrowed brows made her appear particularly stern.
—Deputy Director of the Program Center, He Yarong.