Listening to the flattery from the other side, as if it didn't cost a thing.
Sun Dasheng outwardly appeared pleasant.
But inside, he was sneering: a weasel wishing the chickens a Happy New Year.
He didn't particularly like this group of pure businessmen in the private room.
However, their influence was substantial.
He couldn't just flip the table; he had to go along for now.
When it came to playing Tai Chi, he was naturally not as skillful as these old foxes, but as long as they didn't know his true intentions, he could still manage.
Sun Dasheng had a strange feeling while chatting with them.
Did they consider him one of their own? Or a similar kind of person?
Was this an admission that capitalists had nothing good?
With Sun Dasheng's deliberate cooperation, the atmosphere in the private room was very harmonious.
Eating, drinking, having fun, and then someone, he's not sure who, started discussing history and the world.
Oh wow.
