The harsh winter wind in the twelfth lunar month howled like a blade of ice as it fell upon Jiang Muwan, yet she felt nothing.
With her phone in hand, she stood in the courtyard, firm as the mythical Needle that calms the seas.
The steady voice on the other side said, "The Jiang Family's roots in C City are so deep that even Secretary Mei has to show some dread. Even if there's a scandal now, if the old man disregards benevolence, righteousness, and decades of friendship, and fights for the life and death of Huazhong, there are plenty in C City whose strings he can pull."
The business world of earlier years wasn't as clean as it is now.
There were plenty of those murky, behind-the-scenes relationships that couldn't withstand the light of day—such relationships were both about mutual support and mutual restraint.
They supported each other in climbing to higher positions while ensuring that no side would burn bridges after crossing the river.
