...
In the center of Beijing, there is an upscale teahouse.
Many business people choose to negotiate here, and of course, besides businessmen, there are also many high-ranking officials and wealthy young masters.
In an antique private room.
The subtle music notes and the scent of sandalwood fill the room, giving an illusion of being in an ancient time.
Through the colorful beaded curtain, one can vaguely hear respectful work reports. If you listen carefully, you'll find that these voices are all speaking very good French.
"Mr. Mog, at half-past ten tomorrow morning, someone will come from M Country. Who do you think we should get to meet them at the airport?"
"Also, the heads of the Li, Wang, and Zhao Families have all invited you to their parties. Shall we just reject them all as we have always done before?"
The man lazing on the sofa has a cigarette between his fingers. The smoky haze blurs his handsome features. When he speaks, it's also in fluent French:
