Chapter 6

On the way to the pet hospital, Wei Sheng learned that Han Zekai also had a cat named Er Bing.

However, since his mother had a severe allergy to cat fur, Han Zekai didn’t dare bring Er Bing home. Instead, he secretly bought a small apartment just for the cat.

“My apartment is right next to the TV station. Once your cat is discharged, if you can’t keep it at home, just give it to me. Er Bing is home alone all the time anyway, so having another cat would be good company for him.”

Han Zekai felt a strong connection to Wei Sheng’s cat and was eager to convince him to hand it over. After all, if he thought about it, he had actually spotted the cat first. If Wei Sheng hadn’t happened to pass by and pick it up, it might have been his already!

“Why should I give it to you? My mom isn’t allergic to cat fur!”

“Besides, she just got divorced, and I’m not planning to get married or have kids anytime soon. It’s perfect—she can have the kitten to keep her company so she won’t feel lonely.”

“Fine, take it home and see if Auntie likes it. If she doesn’t want to keep it, then give it to me,” Han Zekai persisted.

Wei Sheng was broke lately, and half of it was because of this little feline ancestor.

Being a cat owner meant being both poor and humble. Because he had been preparing for his TV station job interview, he hadn’t visited for a few days. Now, the little ancestor didn’t even recognize him and seemed to suspect he had abandoned it. The tiny thing curled up tightly in the back of the cage, staring at Wei Sheng with its big, watery eyes, full of wariness.

Wei Sheng’s heart—completely shattered by this little ingrate!

He had worked so hard to earn money for its surgery and food, taking on gigs as soon as his interview was over, and now it didn’t even recognize him?!

“I told you to visit more often! Pets that have been abandoned before tend to be wary of their owners. The moment they sense signs of being abandoned again, they can become very aggressive.”

The vet opened the cage, picked up the kitten, and scratched its chin.

The little cat immediately relaxed.

At that moment, Wei Sheng finally understood how Zhen Huan* felt when she returned to the palace—

Even though the little princess was her biological child, she didn’t recognize her at all!

This was like rubbing a giant pile of salt into his wounds!

Han Zekai reached out and stroked the kitten’s head, envious. No wonder this was his “dream cat” at first sight.

The kitten, now regrowing its fur after being shaved, had mesmerizing, glassy eyes, a round head, a delicate little chin, and short, stubby legs—it was clearly a British Shorthair.

Normally, a purebred British Shorthair, even if the owner didn’t want it, could still be sold for a decent amount. So why had this one been abused and dumped in a trash can?

But then again, anyone cruel enough to abuse animals probably wasn’t thinking rationally.

Seeing Wei Sheng hesitating to touch his own cat, the vet chuckled.

“I was just about to call you. The fracture in its hind leg has mostly healed. Since I know you’re short on money, there’s no need to keep paying for boarding. Just take it home and take care of it yourself—save the money to buy it some good food.”

Hu Qianqian, having lost a frustrating husband, gained a soft, adorable little kitten instead. She was so excited she barely slept that night. She even dug out her old crochet needles and yarn from over a decade ago, determined to knit the kitten some new clothes.

“Mom! It’s only September! And it’s a cat! It doesn’t need a sweater!”

Wei Sheng was horrified at the thought of his mother dressing the cat.

Wouldn’t putting a sweater on a cat in this heat give it heatstroke?

“You don’t understand! I need to start now because once it’s done, I have to wash it a few times to soften it. Otherwise, it might be too rough for our little darling!” Hu Qianqian held the kitten tightly, as if cradling her whole world.

“By the way, have you named it yet?” she asked.

“Not yet. When I first found it, it was in such bad shape that the vet wasn’t sure it would survive, so I didn’t bother naming it.” Wei Sheng sighed.

Hu Qianqian’s eyes welled up with tears.

The kitten was truly beautiful—its fur was a deep blue, but its belly was white. As it lay quietly on her lap, it looked just like an oversized sushi roll.

“How about calling her ‘Rice Ball’? A simple name means a good life!” Hu Qianqian gently stroked the kitten’s round little head.

“That sounds like a foodie’s name…” Wei Sheng muttered. But seeing his mother’s eyebrows rise, he immediately switched to survival mode and said, “Rice Ball it is! It sounds like a cat with a great appetite! Very easy to take care of!”

“Exactly! Look how skinny she is—she needs to eat more and get all chubby!”

Wei Sheng glanced sympathetically at Rice Ball.

There’s a special kind of “too skinny” that only your mom thinks you are.

Hopefully, Rice Ball wouldn’t turn into a chubby little short-legged fluffball under his mother’s care…

British Shorthairs might not get as fat as orange tabbies, but with that naturally round head and chubby chin, they already looked pudgy!

After settling Rice Ball in, Wei Sheng went to work the next day—only to get packed off to the “Back to Hometown with My Bros” production team by his supervisor. That very day, he experienced firsthand just how “toxic” the show was.

Let’s put it this way—he had never seen a show where half the guests’ faces were blurred out…

Was this a variety show, or a mosaic-fest?

What’s even weirder is that the audience seems to have some unusual tastes. Even though this show is so heavily censored that even sponsors are fleeing, not only did the viewers stay, but their numbers actually increased compared to before the scandal!

At its peak, the show’s ratings skyrocketed to third place nationwide during the same time slot—all because a bunch of curious onlookers switched channels just to count how many artists had their faces blurred out.

If it weren’t for these high ratings keeping it afloat, the network executives would have buried this “toxic” program long ago.

The network was still trying to salvage the show, but the biggest victims weren’t the sponsors—it was the post-production team, including Wei Sheng.

The moment he arrived at work, he heard that the person he was replacing had been rushed to the hospital after working overnight on censorship edits, suffering from a retinal detachment.

Wei Sheng: “…”

Well, since he was already here—and at such a prestigious workplace like a TV station—he’d take his chances, even if it meant risking his eyesight!

“Xiao Wei, our team lead just ordered takeout. Go pick it up.” The scruffy-looking team leader wearily ordered the new guy around.

It wasn’t that he was lazy—he had just been staring at edited footage for so long that his head was spinning. He didn’t even want to lift a finger.

Wei Sheng immediately ran downstairs to grab the food.

The TV station had strict management policies, so delivery drivers weren’t allowed inside. All takeout orders had to be picked up at a designated drop-off point near the back entrance.

When Wei Sheng arrived, he saw a mountain of takeout bags stacked up—giving him a much deeper understanding of the station’s “voluntary overtime culture.”

After finally gathering his team’s order, he was heading back when he spotted the station’s second-in-command arguing with a well-dressed, charismatic middle-aged man in the courtyard.

The deputy director scolded the man for lacking a sense of responsibility, while the man smirked and retorted that he wasn’t powerful enough to influence the entire station’s operations.

The deputy director snapped that the man was taking a salary from the station but never actually working for its benefit.

The middle-aged man remained calm and replied, “If the station really thinks I’m just collecting a paycheck for nothing, you’re free to terminate my contract.”

Who was this guy? Talking so big?

Wei Sheng was stunned—despite the man’s attitude, the deputy director, though furious, didn’t dare fire him on the spot.

That meant this guy was either extremely capable or had serious connections. Either way, he was out of Wei Sheng’s league.

Standing in the shadows for a while, Wei Sheng realized the two big shots weren’t leaving anytime soon. Not wanting to get caught eavesdropping, he sneaked around the long way and re-entered through the front entrance.

There was no way he was stupid enough to openly watch executives fight.

When he finally got back, the team leader frowned. “What took you so long?”

“Uh, boss, there were way too many takeout orders at the back entrance. I had to dig through a pile to find ours…” Wei Sheng quickly explained.

“Sigh, this show is really a disaster… The scriptwriters and ad team are probably pulling all-nighters trying to rework the sponsorships. It’s tough for everyone. Come on, let’s eat something—we might be here all night.”

The production team collectively groaned in despair.

Since the show was the undisputed scapegoat for everything going wrong, no one blamed Wei Sheng for taking so long to get the food.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he quickly opened his meal and dug in.

Just as they finished censoring the previous two episodes’ “legal drama” guest stars, another piece of bad news hit—

The advertising department had reached out to almost every major sponsor, but no matter how much they pleaded, no one was willing to fund this cursed show.

Businesspeople, much like those in the entertainment industry, were deeply superstitious.

Seeing how this show kept running into trouble, they feared bad luck would rub off on them. Some long-time sponsors, unwilling to outright refuse, even paid extra to sponsor other shows on J Province TV—just to make sure this one wouldn’t come knocking again.

And celebrities were expensive! Even the most obscure, barely famous guests charged tens of thousands per episode.

With no sponsors willing to foot the bill, the show was on the verge of collapse.

Even Han Zekai privately asked Wei Sheng if he wanted him to pull some strings and get him transferred to the evening news team.

Han Zekai himself was thinking of switching careers to journalism—he found news reporting more thrilling. If he left, there’d be an opening in the current affairs department’s post-production team, which Wei Sheng could take over.

Wei Sheng was seriously considering Han’s offer when a shocking internal memo started circulating—

The station’s old director was about to retire. Unwilling to let the last show he approved before stepping down become a disaster, he made a bold decision:

Forget hiring internet-famous celebrities. Instead, they would cast people from within the station—anyone remotely good-looking—to finish the show.

And this was where the benefits of government-style vetting came in.

Anyone hired through official channels had already undergone a background check stricter than a civil servant’s screening. Not only did they need a clean record, but even their immediate family had to be free of any criminal history.

In short, station employees might not all be conventionally attractive, but their reputations were squeaky clean!

No risk of sudden legal scandals like in the entertainment industry.

Plus, hiring from within had another major perk—

It was cheap.

Hiring celebrities from outside costs anywhere from hundreds of thousands to millions in appearance fees.

But picking people from within the company? Heh~

Just count it as a business trip—at most, they’d get 1,000 yuan per day in travel expenses!

According to the show’s filming schedule, each episode, including travel time, takes at most five days.

That’s 5,000 yuan per person—25,000 yuan for a team of five. The TV station can afford that.

As soon as the news spread, forget other departments—the post-production team went crazy with joy.

Finally! No more “legal drama guests” in their own company!

Plus, they’re all regular employees—no netizens or paparazzi would bother digging into their backgrounds.

At last, no more endless photoshopping until they go blind!

(End of Chapter)

—

—Zhen Huan (甄嬛) is the protagonist of the Chinese historical drama Empresses in the Palace (《甄嬛传》). The show follows her rise from a young, naive concubine to a powerful empress in the Qing Dynasty, navigating palace intrigues, betrayals, and power struggles.

Her character is widely referenced in Chinese internet culture, often symbolizing intelligence, resilience, and strategic thinking in difficult situations.