Everyone stared at him without a word. He had knitted his eyebrows together, and he then raised his voice. "Aren't you all going back to work? Is everyone very free?"
No one dared to dawdle and promptly replied, "We will leave right away, President."
The meeting ended.
Ming Ansheng suddenly felt exhausted and he pulled his drawer. He took out a packet of cigarettes which he hadn't touched in ages. He lit up a cigarette and smoked.
He took a deep puff and blew out wisps of white smoke from his mouth. The smoke shrouded his handsome face, and it made him seem gloomier.
His eyes darted to his phone once more—the expression in his bright eyes began to darken.
'Ming Ansheng, this is the difference between both of you. There is a generation gap,' he lectured himself.
She could be obstinate and carefree but he couldn't.
…
