Hou Shihong's roar frightened Wei Xiaoqing so much that her body trembled. She was like a persecuted little wife who could only hide on the sidelines, no longer daring to speak. All she could do was cry. Even so, she still did not dare to make a sound.
Hou Shihong gripped his hair in frustration. His hair had been pulled up into a messy wasp's nest. Over the past few days, they had fallen out one by one.
Yu Meilin looked at his hair anxiously. She thought in her heart that soon, Hou Shihong would be like a middle-aged man with a bald head.
Just like that, the Hou Family fell into an indescribably suffocating atmosphere. At the moment, no one could escape from this situation.
A few days later, Qian Yazhu prepared the drink according to Qin Shanyuan's recipe. He personally went to the factory and tasted the drink. It tasted exactly the same as the one he drank in the Qin Group's conference room.
