Chapter 87

In the private meeting room on the top floor of the Zhou Group, Lin Qingyi sat alone on a leather sofa. She sat with her legs crossed, fingers tapping lightly on the armrest as her gaze swept over the photos on the wall—pictures of President Zhou with various celebrities. In every shot, the heavy-set man wore a look of smug satisfaction, as if the entire world were under his thumb. The door was pushed open with a bang. President Zhou walked in, his beer belly protruding, followed by two bodyguards. Dressed in a suit and tie, he still could not mask his oily aura; behind his gold-rimmed glasses were a pair of small, turbid eyes.