"President, there is news about Mr. Jiang at the hospital."
The man on the black leather chair in front of him paused with his fingertips, and clicked a series of identical numbers on the computer keyboard. The person he hadn't seen for three whole years clearly came to mind, and Qin Yan stared at his men's faces with some confusion.
Chen Cheng was obviously used to the dubious face of his president. In the past three years, countless news had come to nothing, and the man in front of him could no longer tell the truth from the lie. Pursing his lips and weighing his words, Chen Cheng repeated again, "President. Over there at the hospital..."
Before Chen Cheng could finish his sentence, Qin Yan had already grabbed the car keys on the table and rushed out the door. The black Mercedes-Benz sports car accelerated through the company gate. The security uncle patted his chest to calm down, and dropped the cigarette in his mouth to the ground for the nth time. He still couldn't adapt to the occasional convulsions of the CEO in the past three years.
Intention: No intention
