At this moment, on a private plane flying toward Jianghai from Xuanjing City.
A middle-aged man wearing a cap had just finished a phone call and, after putting his mobile back into his pocket, smiled at the young man beside him, "Master Tang Lin, I've already called my daughter, and she said she's waiting for us at the company!"
He was Jiang Cheng, the father of Jiang Weiwei.
Next to him sat a woman, the mother of Jiang Weiwei, who was smiling and saying, "My Weiwei is very obedient; after we land, let's head straight to their company."
The man they called Tang Lin didn't move, dressed in an Armani suit. Although he wasn't very old, he exuded an aura of authority. At that moment, he held a cigar in his hand, placed it to his lips, and took a deep puff, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
He did not respond to their words.
Instead, his gaze was fixed on the television ahead, which was continuously replaying a series of images.
