His hand was directly broken by a steel pipe, and the pain was unimaginable. Zhao Shuyu's features contorted into a grimace, and he was absolutely certain that his hand was broken.
His own hand, attached to his own body—wasn't he completely aware of it?
"Why do you think your hand was broken? Don't you have any idea?" Qian Xiong had seen fools before, but he had never seen anyone as foolish as Zhao Shuyu. At this rate, he feared Zhao Shuyu wouldn't even know how he died today.
Qian Xiong sighed in bafflement. How did such a person ever become the boss of a company and make so much money?
Or was it that, after earning the money, his brains became rusty from only indulging in pleasure and excess, lacking exercise and use, which led to so many stupid decisions?
"President Qian, I—I really don't know, I truly don't," Zhao Shuyu suddenly thought of something and turned his gaze to Chen Wei. "Could it be that you know him, President Qian? Is he your friend?"
