"Good news, your father's company is about to close down, and you have to go back and inherit the mess." "Bad news, in addition to debt, your father will leave you with a group of useless senior executives who only know how to fight among themselves." Yu Qinghuan, the youngest investment queen in the financial world, is known as the "walking money counter." She once thought that she would only deal with numbers and venture capital in her life, until a will dragged her back to the shaky family business, Hongguang Group. Hongguang Group, a century-old store in the eyes of outsiders, is actually a combination of "nursing home + palace drama" inside. The corpses in the upper echelons were eating nothing, while the middle ones were eating and waiting to die, while the grassroots were complaining. On the first day that Yu Qinghuan arrived, the conference room was filled with an atmosphere of "watching a show". She didn't waste any time and directly showed three documents: the layoff list, the new strategic plan, and her personal power of attorney. "I'll give you three months. Within three months, Hongguang must turn losses into profits. If you can't do it, pack up and leave. I won't give you a penny of severance pay, because you have already wiped out the company's money." Her tone was calm, but it was like an ice knife cutting everyone's nerves. "As for those uncles and uncles who want to do tricks behind the scenes," she raised her eyelids, her gaze as sharp as X-rays, "please remember, I am better at legal battles than business battles. I guarantee that you will spend the rest of your life in prison studying how to polish the floor with a toothbrush." The subordinates discovered with trepidation that the pie drawn by the new president was not a sweet and delicious vision of the future, but "black-hearted chicken soup" that was burnt and smelled of rust. If you drink it you will live, if you spit it out you will die. She has no system,
