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Huang Qiangmin, with one hand on text messages and the other on WeChat, was sending at a speed so fast and voluminous, both hands were like fitted with little motors, dut-dut-dut, dut-dut-dut-dut pressing down.
Any adult with a bit of common sense would be able to appreciate that leaders on the receiving end of such long or short, fast or urgent, heavy or light, tight or loose messages would feel an agonizing ecstasy, a reluctant indulgence, a disbelief, a shock, a blend of nervousness, joy, discomfort, and satisfaction.
Huang Qiangmin rapidly pressed for several minutes, only stopping when his tendons could no longer bear it, his body then slumped exhaustedly on the chair, his face relaxing into a grimace of relief before lighting up a Hua cigarette, inhaling weakly and slowly.
Logically speaking, if everyone were like Bai, wouldn't the market be in disarray?
