"Resign?"
Wei Zijin's chopsticks stopped in midair, the surprise on her face eclipsing the flush the alcohol had just brought to her cheeks.
She set down her chopsticks and looked at Wang Xiaoliang, finding the suggestion utterly preposterous.
"Are you kidding? Why would I resign?"
"You've never thought about it?" Wang Xiaoliang asked.
Wei Zijin shook her head, her voice carrying a trace of bewilderment and resistance. "Never. What do you mean by that? You want me to desert? Just pack up and leave because I've been treated a little unfairly?"
"It's not running away. It's changing battlefields." Wang Xiaoliang placed a piece of meat in her bowl, motioning for her to eat first.
"Zijin, haven't you felt that the TV station has lost its former glory?"
"How many people still dutifully sit in front of their TVs these days? Never mind our local station-how many people even watch CCTV's Spring Festival Gala anymore?"
Wei Zijin fell silent.
Of course she understood all this.
As someone in the industry, she knew better than anyone how enormous the impact of new media on traditional media had been.
"Of course I know. But it's still a very good platform, and relatively stable. I feel secure there."
"Does being treated unfairly count as feeling secure?"
That left Wei Zijin momentarily speechless, but she immediately retorted, "That's where you're wrong. Sometimes you put up with unfair treatment precisely so you can keep that security."
Wang Xiaoliang sighed inwardly, but his words remained blunt.
"I think you'll keep being treated unfairly, and it'll be deliberately engineered."
Wei Zijin's brows knitted. "Why? Can't you wish me well for once?"
"Don't get angry yet. Hear me out. There are two main reasons."
Wang Xiaoliang held up two fingers.
"First, the people around you aren't up to scratch."