December in Dongfang City had become a bit chilly, the same familiar noodle shop, and Zhao Bin was eating noodles with Old Tang.
Only now, the mood while eating was completely different from before.
Listening to the conversations of the workers in the noodle shop, Zhao Bin still felt as if he were dreaming.
Could it be that the intermediary company that had once forced him to fight desperately with a knife was all locked up now?
The money was almost in hand, there was just one thing, Lawyer Tang, upon hearing that the owner and employees of the intermediary had all been arrested, cursed for quite a while.
Zhao Bin didn't know what he was cursing about, nor did he dare to ask.
He just hoped that the money would be in hand soon, as Lawyer Tang had said it would be quick.
Old Tang, sitting next to him, couldn't help but want to complain while eating his noodles. Damn it, he had actually miscalculated this time, having been blinded by continuous success.
