Television station, Director's office.
In front of the desk sits a man with graying hair named Zhang Qingyu, who is also the station's second-in-command.
Zhao Jing was able to work here because of him, and she is considered one of his trusted aides.
"Your department's account is quite bold, actually going to film the Chuangrong incident."
"I knew about it when they decided to film this matter. Whether or not it can solve the problem is not important; we must let more people know about it."
While speaking, Zhao Jing observed Zhang Qingyu's expression, "Leader, did someone from the higher-ups notify you not to follow up on this matter?"
"That's not the case; I just find it quite interesting," Zhang Qingyu said:
"This matter has a low heat index; look at the likes, they've exceeded thirty thousand. It has potential to catch fire."
"Those two are indeed remarkable, full of energy," Zhao Jing said with a smile:
"Leader, you didn't call me here just to praise them, right?"
