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…It was an epiphany.
Some of these truths she already knew, but hearing them from someone as admirable and accomplished as Director He made them resonate more powerfully. It felt like an inevitable truth, imbued with a mysterious, inspiring quality.
In just a few seconds, problems that had seemed insurmountable were deconstructed. Yin Mengxi felt her confusion and exhaustion dissipate. She wanted to prove herself in front of this leader, to achieve something remarkable that would make everyone recognize her worth. What were Chen Chen and Jin Yu? Just insignificant obstacles.
She became reinvigorated.
Working as if holding her breath, she pushed herself harder than ever. Without being asked, she proactively identified issues and sought ways to optimize on-site personnel management. Whenever she had a moment, she overcame her shyness to engage with senior staff from various departments. Within a week, almost everyone on-site knew her. They said a diligent and talented young intern had joined their team—hardworking, beautiful, and likable.
Chen Chen, who had previously been cold toward her, perhaps even planning to sabotage her, couldn’t openly undermine her after hearing widespread praise for the intern. Later, when she learned that Yin Mengxi had briefly spoken with Deputy Director He, she grew cautious, fearing Yin might have complained about her. As a result, Chen Chen’s interactions with Yin became more guarded, and she no longer openly displayed hostility.
Fate’s gifts often arrive quietly.
How could Yin Mengxi have known? In fact, Deputy Director He had coincidentally overheard her earlier conversation with Chen Chen and knew the idea for the meeting came from Yin Mengxi. Otherwise, why would such a high-ranking leader take time to speak with a mere intern?
Director He knew Yin was capable and had suffered injustices. But that didn’t mean she would actively help her. The workplace was inherently competitive and unfair, especially in the cutthroat environment of a TV station. If someone so easily succumbed to discouragement, they were unlikely to succeed in the future. Fortunately, Yin Mengxi proved resilient, consistently working hard, earning praise from everyone in the project team. By the end of Star Song ‘s recording in late September, a director from another group approached Yuan Rui, asking to transfer “Little Yin” to their team.
That project was larger—a cultural observation program collaborating with CCTV to document local cultural landscapes. Deputy Director He, having previously worked at CCTV, personally served as the executive producer. The director informed her beforehand about the request.
Yin Mengxi’s internship contract was tied to specific projects, so technically, she should have left after Star Song ended. Moreover, her school had resumed in September, and the Challenge Cup project required preparation for the national competition stage. Realistically, she lacked the energy for another internship.
But… this opportunity was too rare.
Deputy Director He even personally spoke with her, asking if she’d like to join the new team and work under her. She said, “You have resilience and creativity. With more experience, you’ll have great potential in this industry. But the new program will be more demanding than Star Song . Carefully assess whether you can handle it.”
—Could she not handle it?
How could she say no?
A golden opportunity had fallen into her lap. Even if she had no appetite, she had to force-feed herself. She decided to push through, sacrificing sleep for a few months. What was there to fear? The rewards would be substantial—not only learning from Deputy Director He but also potentially maintaining a good relationship with her. A collaboration with CCTV would undoubtedly become the most impressive entry on her resume, opening doors that no other qualification could.
—She would have a brighter future.
So she agreed.
Never had she experienced such a hectic semester. On average, she slept only four or five hours a day. Outside of work, she could fall asleep instantly anywhere, perpetually sporting dark circles under her eyes. For the national Challenge Cup competition in Beijing, the entire team went except her. Zhao Peng, her senior teammate, teased her, saying, “I get it now. You joined our team just to stick with your boyfriend. Now that Teacher Xiao is abroad, you’ve run off too. Not a day longer.”
Blushing, she insisted, “That’s not true.” Others laughed, but Xin Ning sincerely wanted her to join, hoping she could help with the presentation. Though tempted, Yin Mengxi ultimately declined due to her lack of energy, apologizing before seeing them off at the airport.
Even without going to Beijing, her time was stretched thin.
The pressure from the program was immense. She was overwhelmed at the station, and even back at school, she constantly received urgent messages from the production team. Unable to ignore them, her mind was consumed by work during class. She couldn’t focus on lectures and rushed out of the classroom as soon as class ended, drawing attention from teachers and teaching assistants.
Eventually, she started skipping classes.
Heaven knows, Yin Mengxi had been an exemplary student since fourth grade, consistently the most diligent in her class throughout over a decade of schooling. During her first two years of university, she never missed a class. Yet in her third year, she skipped every class she could—even mandatory ones, missing lectures due to filming schedules. When roll call caught her absence, Min Rui tried to cover for her but got caught. As a result, she was marked absent and required to explain herself to the professor later.
She couldn’t keep up with assignments.
Reading reports, group projects, mid-term papers—all piled up, leaving her scrambling to meet deadlines. She churned out last-minute submissions, writing exactly 3,000 words when required, a stark contrast to her previous perfectionism, where she wouldn’t stop until she’d written tens of thousands. With no time to study materials, she resorted to online summaries, half-guessing her way through essays. Afterward, she barely understood what she’d written, producing nothing but academic garbage.
Of course, she didn’t tell Xiao Zhi any of this.
Their calls grew shorter. Sometimes, they only had a few minutes during her meals. What could they discuss in such brief conversations? Merely trivialities like “Where are you?” “What are you busy with?” “Have you eaten?”
“Xiao Xi…”
His hesitation grew more pronounced with each call. She noticed but couldn’t spare the emotional bandwidth to address it. Instead, she reassured herself that everything would be fine once he returned from the U.S. during winter break.
“…What is it?”
She feigned ignorance to subtle changes.
Silence stretched on the other end, a luxury they couldn’t afford in their fleeting calls. She waited anxiously, her heart dangling precariously over a cliff, ready to shatter at the slightest breeze. Even if it didn’t fall, it was already bleeding from the strain.
—Before he could articulate his thoughts, her lunch break ended, and a director called her back to work. At that moment, she felt both tense and oddly relieved. Apologizing hastily, she hung up. The tension eased, but she remained teetering on the edge.
…Later, talking to him became a torment.
She felt nervous and inexplicably pressured, though he never criticized her and remained gentle, accommodating her schedule. She continued lying, admitting she was still interning but hiding that she’d switched to a new program. She certainly didn’t confess how many classes she’d skipped or how poorly she’d handled assignments. Instead, she assured him everything was fine and manageable.
After hanging up, her heart felt hollow. Each call deepened the subtle fracture between them. By November, she sometimes cried immediately after ending the call, overwhelmed by exhaustion and suppressed emotions. She felt outnumbered, unable to withstand the onslaught.
—Why?
—Why was this happening?
Everything seemed to be improving. Her internship was going smoothly, and Deputy Director He increasingly appreciated her. He was returning soon, and their reunion was imminent. Yet she felt sadness and melancholy shadowing her days. Min Rui attributed it to fatigue, urging her to rest during winter break, promising she’d bounce back afterward.
She believed it and began eagerly anticipating the holidays.
He booked a flight back on January 12, just three days after the final episode of her program aired on January 9. This meant she could spend an entire month with him without distractions. It thrilled her even more that the station gave bonuses to staff after the project concluded—even interns like her received a whopping 19,000 yuan!
Nineteen thousand!
She’d never seen so much money. Stunned, her heart raced once reality sank in. Suddenly, all her hard work felt worthwhile. Inspired, she planned to buy gifts for those close to her. She’d get her parents new smartphones, making it easier for them to use social media and watch her program videos, seeing her name listed in the credits.
And she’d buy Xiao Zhi a gift!
For her birthday in January, he’d given her a camera worth 12,000 yuan, while she’d reciprocated with headphones costing less than 3,000 yuan—a gap of nearly 9,000 yuan. Now, she finally had the means to bridge it!
—What to buy?
She pondered endlessly. Before her internship, she’d never considered what item could cost 10,000 yuan. Thanks to her time at the station, she’d learned about luxury goods. A male director in her department had recently received a designer watch from his girlfriend, proudly flaunting it for over a week.
—Yes, a watch.
A watch was perfect.
Practical, stylish, and prestigious when branded.
Her plan was meticulous, leaving no room in her budget for herself. All her earnings would go toward gifts for her parents and boyfriend. On January 9, as soon as work ended, she rushed to the city’s most upscale mall to shop carefully for presents.
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Author’s Note:
Bubbling Up: July’s daily updates are complete! Thank you, dear readers, for your unwavering support.
Lately, I’ve been traveling and struggling to find writing time. I’d like to take a short leave (TT) to catch up on July’s missed breaks, from August 1 to August 6. I’ll return on August 7th.
The breakup arc is approaching! If you’re here for that, check back mid-August. I aim to finish the story before September.
Thank you all, ❤️!