Xiao Jiang pushed the door open first, inviting Han Zaijing inside.
As soon as the door opened, the large conference room was filled with cold air.
In the scorching heat of September, it seemed as if this space had created a new world, the chilling atmosphere was intimidating.
Despite their business attire, they couldn't help but shiver slightly inside.
Han Zaijing hesitated for a moment, then stepped in.
His sharp eyes met Han Luoli's gaze for an instant, a complex mix of emotions—sharp, surprised, scrutinizing—interwoven.
He immediately understood where the icy pressure had originated.
The father and son's eyes met.
There was no expression of familial affection, instead more of the fierce, surging rivalry between adversaries.
"You?" Han Zaijing took a few steps into the conference room, guided by the staff, and sat down.
The long conference table positioned Han Zaijing and Han Luoli directly opposite each other, as if representing opposing armies, their stances clear.
