1 o'clock, afternoon.
Zhang Ye hurriedly rushed his draft. Behind him, his assistant, Xiaofang, called out to him.
"Teacher Little Zhang."
"What's the matter, Xiaofang?"
"Leader said to tell you that the sponsor for your program is here."
"Eh? So early? Didn't they say noon?"
“Er, it's noon now. This is for you; it’s the advertisement copy. The recording studio is also ready. The director wants you to get ready before he brings over the guests."
Damn, this time I'm done for!
Zhang Ye had only just typed out the words for "Ghost Blows Out the Light", without any structure or thought. He could only switch off his computer and go do the undoable at the recording studio.
