Zhao Qiqiang's tone was sarcastic, his eyes swept disdainfully over the crowd.
The shareholders' faces turned dark. Over the years, Zhao Qiqiang had made no substantial contributions. But because he was Qin Lan's son, a scion of the Zhao family, who could bring benefits to Zhao Ding Group, everyone had turned a blind eye.
A young punk with no abilities, sitting above everyone else, was already hard for people to accept.
Now he dared to look down on everyone.
Seeing everyone remain silent as usual, Zhao Qiqiang hardened his attitude and snorted coldly, "Hmph!"
"Our Zhao family holds the most shares, so naturally, what my mom says goes. If it weren't for our Zhao family, could you old geezers have been living so comfortably all these years?"
"And now, over this small issue, you're all playing turtles. Is that necessary?"
Zhao Qiqiang's loud voice was filled with disdain as he scanned the room.
