Zhang Xiaowei felt an almost irresistible urge to throw a punch at that son of a bitch, Song Mingshu.
For fuck's sake, he really doesn't give a damn about me.
He's got the nerve to demand fifty percent of the profits and then has the audacity to say that I am getting a good deal.
And there he is, standing all high and mighty, telling me to think it over properly!
"Mr. Zhang, it seems like you feel you're being treated unfairly?"
"No shit!"
Zhang Xiaowei didn't hold back any longer and lashed out at him angrily.
Song Mingshu didn't get angry either and chuckled, "Mr. Zhang, earning a hundred percent profit on each bottle of medicine you sell, and letting you make fifty percent profit on each bottle I sell, are two completely different things."
Song Mingshu boasted smugly, as if it really made perfect sense.
"Because, in the time it takes you to sell one bottle of medicine, I can sell five. The more we sell, the more you will make than you do now."
