chapter 43 I'm leaving with a rage

morning.

On the top floor of the Grand Palace, Hans Yuan sat on the sofa with one hand resting on his chin, looking expressionlessly at the dozen or so bigwigs on the left and right sides of the black street, without saying a word.

After a long silence, a bald man, with his legs crossed, frowned first and said: "This matter is not done well, our face is not bright. Now sit together and study why it is broken, it is tantamount to slapping your own face. It doesn't make...