Zhou Zhishan's bedroom was vast, spanning over a hundred square meters, adorned with unparalleled luxury.
Redwood furniture worth several hundred thousand could be seen everywhere, and the walls were decorated with many priceless landscape paintings and calligraphy. Around the corner, there were even more than a dozen precious porcelains from the Ming and Qing dynasties.
Without exaggeration, the items inside this mansion alone were worth over a hundred million.
Yet, none of this could save Zhou Zhishan who was lying on the sickbed.
At this moment, Zhou Zhishan's hair was grizzled, his complexion jaundiced, his lips discolored, and his eyes utterly devoid of vitality.
Fortunately, a masked attendant around thirty was constantly at his side, whispering in his ear.
"It's William."
When he heard the Versace-suited man speak, Tang Guowei said indifferently with his hands clasped behind his back, "I remember you just graduated from Cambridge this year, right?"
