Zhang Long could hardly wait to have a drink to celebrate. Ye Fan, utterly oblivious to his own limitations, actually wanted to compete in sales. It was outright suicidal behavior. Within the entire Ninghai City arts industry, there were only a handful of salespeople who could achieve a monthly sales volume of 2.5 million, and each one of them was an old hand who had lingered in the field for many years, equipped with plenty of experience and connections.
Ye Fan, a rookie who had just started, was nowhere near their level.
"Let me give you a friendly reminder. You have two days left to complete your task," Zhang Long said loudly on purpose. "Let's go out for drinks, to celebrate for Ye Fan." Zhang Long left the company with a sneer and several sycophants.
Li Wei gave Ye Fan a deep look and scoffed, "Competing in sales with Zhang Long? You're out of your depth. I suggest you start packing now and prepare to skedaddle."
