Deputy Station Head Jia confirmed, “Yes, it’s him. Why?”
Big Thunder said, “He works at the radio station? I just learned about that.”
Zheng Anbang said to Deputy Station Head Jia, “It’s nothing, Station Head Jia. We just happened to comment about him yesterday on the internet. He completely can’t write poems, and things he writes cannot be considered literature. President Meng wanted to advise him as a senior, but he ended up unhappy about it. He was not modest at all, and even wrote a poem to retort. What would you call this matter? President Meng and us had good intentions, wanting to teach him, but he was ungrateful. He treated our kindness as dirt!”
Deputy Station Head Jia was enlightened as he laughed, “Zhang Ye is just a newcomer. He can be considered not bad when it comes to writing ghost stories, but as for composing poems… How can he compare to all of you? Hurhur.”
Meng Dongguo shook his hands, “Let’s not talk about him, old Bro. Let’s go in?”