Meanwhile.
In the office of the vice-president of the Fashion Association.
Hu Jialiang, startled by the reply, jumped out of his chair, causing Huang Mengzhao to spill his coffee.
With a look of disdain, Huang Mengzhao glanced at the person who occasionally went mad and pulled out a couple of tissues to wipe his hands.
"What madness has gripped you now?"
Hu Jialiang's face was alight with excitement, his hand clutching the cellphone was still trembling.
He pounced like a starving wolf in front of Huang Mengzhao, giving him the cellphone.
"Look, the president... she finally responded to my message!"
Huang Mengzhao's eyes reflected even more disdain, but out of politeness, he took a glance anyway.
And it would have been better if he hadn't!
Reading the conversation between the two, he couldn't help but twitch the corners of his mouth.
Is something wrong with Old Hu's brain?
Glancing over, the screen was filled with messages he had sent.
