Ding Yawen’s guess was correct. She waited until Friday, when the head of the advertising department proactively called her, expressing great interest in the clients she had and asking her to make a recommendation.
With that connection established, Yawen communicated Sheng Ze’s requirements clearly. The rest of the negotiations would be left to the station’s internal affairs.
Feeling in high spirits, she hummed a tune as she returned to the office. The moment she stepped inside, she saw Old Liu looking at her with a grim expression.
Yawen raised an eyebrow at Old Liu but said nothing, returning to her workstation to check her phone for any noteworthy messages.
Old Liu tapped on the desk. “Yawen, come here for a moment.”
Yawen waved her phone. “Sorry, Old Liu, but I’ve just got a promising lead to follow up on. I’ll have to head out now!”
She picked up her laptop bag to leave, but Old Liu stopped her. “Yawen, don’t forget—I’m your supervisor.”
Yawen paused, and the two stood face to face, neither willing to back down. Old Liu had always been lenient with Yawen, out of trust and care, but today, he seemed more annoyed, perhaps even disappointed.
“Afeng, I’ve sent you the address. This story has potential—go check it out,” Yawen finally conceded.
She was known in the office as a workaholic, only passing leads to colleagues when she had conflicting assignments. Afeng stared blankly at the two of them until Huahua nudged him, snapping him out of it. He quickly grabbed his laptop bag and hurried off.
Yawen followed Old Liu into his office, keeping her head down and saying nothing.
This time, Old Liu didn’t offer her tea. He spoke calmly, “The station has been paying a lot of attention to you lately. Your recent performance has been quite surprising.”
Yawen raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Isn’t that a good thing, Old Liu? Without you, I wouldn’t have made it this far. I’ve always said there’s nothing I can’t achieve, and no one can stand in my way!”
“Do you think I’m standing in your way?” Old Liu asked, surprisingly without a hint of anger.
Yawen remained silent.
Old Liu sighed. “Forget it, I won’t say more. Twelve years—we’re more than just colleagues. You’ve worked hard and used your wits to get where you are today. It wasn’t easy, and I congratulate you. I hope you succeed.”
“Thank you!” Yawen’s response lacked sincerity.
Old Liu continued, “We might not have the chance to work together much longer, and there’s not much more I can do to help you. But I’ll give you a heads-up: many people at the station are eyeing that position. After looking around, I’d say your biggest competitor isn’t anyone else—it’s Amy from Late Night Extraordinary.”
Yawen looked at him, puzzled. Amy was a well-known anchor at the station with considerable social influence. Late Night Extraordinary was a program discussing adolescent mental health. Despite its name, it aired at 10 p.m. and had solid ratings, far from being canceled. Why would Amy suddenly want to transfer to another program team?
“The competition for this program is fierce, and the politics run deep. My original intention was to keep you out of this mess, but since things have come to this, you’ll have to handle it yourself.”
Ding Yawen stood up, clenched her fists, and smiled slightly. “Amy was originally a host, so naturally she has her advantages when it comes to transferring positions. But the two programs are unrelated, and evaluating qualifications isn’t just about that one aspect. Director Liu, if you truly have my best interests at heart, I hope you’ll recommend me properly instead of repeatedly obstructing me.”
Director Liu opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end, he remained silent.
“You’ve also said that the other competitors aren’t worth worrying about. So, Director Liu, please wait and see—I will definitely succeed.”
Ding Yawen walked out confidently, took a few deep breaths at her workstation, and pulled out her notebook. On the back pages, she jotted down Amy’s strengths and weaknesses as well as her own. After comparing them, she felt the two were truly evenly matched. Amy’s advantage lay in her hosting skills, but when it came to experience, Ding Yawen naturally had the upper hand.
She turned on her computer and began watching Amy’s recent programs.
A colleague walked over and asked curiously, “Sister Ding, why are you watching Midnight Extraordinary? Are you broadening your horizons so much that you’re even watching parenting shows now?”
“This isn’t a parenting show. It’s a program focusing on adolescent psychological issues, something the country has been paying close attention to in recent years. This show is quite well done.”
Ding Yawen explained earnestly. She had watched a bit of it before—the program was excellent, and Amy’s stage presence and emotional resonance were also very impressive. However, in the last two episodes, it was clear that Amy’s performance had declined, and her lack of focus was evident at a glance.
Knowing she was about to leave her position, most people would slack off a bit. It was normal, but not right.
Ding Yawen closed her computer. She wasn’t that kind of person—she pursued excellence to the extreme. As long as she was in her role, she would give it her all.
She browsed through the news, but nothing seemed particularly valuable. A few colleagues in the industry had invited her to a gathering to exchange experiences. These kinds of exchanges were mostly about probing whether there were vacancies in each other’s stations or if the prospects and benefits were better. Ding Yawen disdained participating in such gatherings. She had no need for that kind of thing and felt it was a waste of time.
However, the journalist hosting today’s gathering was Xiao Hai, Ding Yawen’s university classmate, who worked as a reporter at another television station. It was said he had recently secured a permanent position. For newcomers to Shanghai, points were crucial, and a permanent position could earn them points. With a bit more effort, they might even obtain a Shanghai household registration.
This was what young people striving in Shanghai wanted most, and Ding Yawen was no exception.
Xiao Hai wasn’t from Ding Yawen’s department. Though they attended the same university, Ding Yawen was from a top-tier program, while Xiao Hai was from a third-tier institution—the gap was more than just slight. In the past, he had pursued Ding Yawen, but she had high standards and wasn’t interested. It wasn’t until after graduation, when both became reporters, that they reconnected in a lukewarm manner.
If she remembered correctly, Xiao Hai was already married.
After some thought, Ding Yawen accepted the invitation and drove to the agreed-upon hotel.
The conversation followed the usual routine. Ding Yawen sat to the side, listening as they either boasted or complained to each other. Several people became quite excited upon hearing she was Ding Yawen and eagerly came over to exchange business cards—though nowadays, it was mostly digital name cards.
Ding Yawen smiled politely, raising her teacup as if it were a wine glass, and said to Xiao Hai, “Manager Xiao, you truly are impressive—not only securing a permanent position but also being eligible to apply for a Shanghai household registration.”
“Not at all, I still have a long way to go,” Xiao Hai replied modestly. “Yawen, don’t tease me. The TV station I work at is worlds apart from yours, completely incomparable. Besides, you’re the pillar of your station, the chief reporter.”