This misunderstanding is huge, but it must not exist.
"Jun Mochan, if I remember correctly, you're thirty this year, right?"
"Hm?" Why bring this up for no apparent reason?
"Then how do you usually handle it?"
Jun Mochan: "…Ye Ranran!"
A dangerous smile tugged at his lips: "I'll tell you slowly how I handle it when you come back."
For some unknown reason, Ye Ranran felt a hint of danger and hurriedly hung up the phone.
Pulling herself together, she started drafting a speech. The one she submitted earlier had been rejected by Fu Rong.
She had to rewrite it.
It had been a long time since she'd written something like this, and she was extremely out of practice. Truth be told, she wasn't very skilled at this sort of thing in the first place.
She had considered outsourcing it to someone else, but Fu Rong insisted that she do it herself.
She strongly suspected he was abusing his authority for personal revenge.
