"That's not necessarily the case, I feel that among so many people, only you have the chance to 'clean up,'" Mr. Liu said lightly as he took a sip of tea.
Among these people, Mr. Liu's status was like that of a father—superior, while the others were like his subjects—inferior.
"I know that, but lately I feel like the person who has been helping me is about to leave me, and it seems quite heartlessly so."
"No, Xiaozheng, they're just joking with you. If you really want to 'clean up,' it is still very simple," Mr. Liu said nonchalantly.
Liu Mou looked at the words on the table and was immediately confused. In his eyes, washing powder could clean anything white. Puzzled, he whispered into Liu Qiang's ear, "What are these people doing? I didn't understand a word."
"Of course, you wouldn't understand these things. Just focus on eating. If you hear something bad, quickly forget it. Don't provoke anyone here," Liu Qiang said lightly.
