"Bang!" A stack of drawings that had been poured into was thrown to the ground in disgust. There were three or five white-collar workers of all kinds standing around, both men and women, either with mocking expressions or indifferent onlookers...
"Xiao Yao, the magazine is not a charity. It only requires your skills, not your art!"
A forty-year-old gentle man in a suit and glasses said coldly, and this well-dressed man never claimed to be a gentleman. On the contrary, he thought that he was an out-and-out gentle scum who was only interested in profit.
Intention: Destiny is connected, there is no escape from disaster