At about 2:00 p.m., Yang Mingyu opened the door and came in, with a thick stack of files in his hand, which all needed to be discussed at the meeting.
Seeing Mo Yixuan still discouraged, he sighed deeply, feeling sympathetic but helpless.
"Yixuan, will you not preside over the meeting at three o'clock later?" asked Yang Mingyu. The answer seemed to be able to be anticipated with no need of waiting.
Mo Yixuan did not lift his eyelids, simply shaking his hand.
He was obviously not in the right condition to chair the meeting. In other words, he was not in the mood to attend the meeting.
"But you do need to sign these documents. Otherwise, other people can't carry out them. They're all waiting now." Yang Mingyu frowned helplessly. Since Yixuan did not do anything, everything then came to him. These days, he had been working overtime every day until midnight, which made him dog tired.
