Old Mrs. Song slapped her own face, "Sun Jinrong, you're lucky no one else heard you say what you just did, I'm so frustrated with you.
Who are you throwing a tantrum at this time?
Are we in the wrong for looking for you?
Aren't you the factory manager? If not you, then whom should we find?
Take a moment and touch your conscience, think about how the family has treated you since you became the factory manager, and look what you've done. You have the nerve to yell at us. Where do you get the audacity to speak like that?"
Then she pointed at Sun Jinrong, "Change your clothes quickly, and take us to the warehouse to see how much adhesive is left, and how many finished products there are? Why is there a problem with the adhesive's bonding strength? Is it the adhesive or the production? If it's the adhesive, we are going to sue the factory."
Old Mrs. Song was unlike her usual self.
The words she spoke were on the mark.
Sun Jinrong's complexion, already poor, now looked even worse.
