Wei Qiang's gaze swept over Wang Li's face, suddenly realizing.
He snorted, sitting back on the wide leather boss chair, legs crossed on the mahogany desk:
"Oh, after all this time, it's that useless old father of the girl student."
He flicked the ash off his cigar, chin slightly raised, expression arrogant:
"Did you bring the money?"
Wang Li, under his sinister gaze, instantly lost his momentum, lips trembling:
"The money... the money is here, but I must see the person first..."
"Old fool, is water in your brain?"
Wei Qiang's face turned cold, he stubbed out the half cigar forcefully in a crystal ashtray, stood up, and cursed:
"In the Martial World, I'm a well-known figure, I always follow the rules. No negotiations, do you think by bringing some Kung Fu pretty boy, you can threaten me?"
After arrogantly cursing, he looked mockingly at Fang Cheng, pointing a finger in the air.
"What era do you think this is? Do you think relying on martial arts can make you domineer?"
