In the dimly lit room.
Ke Yong sat in a daze behind the desk, his eyes bloodshot, making him look haggard.
And on the desk, piled up were the official duties he had delayed handling during these days.
"Sir..." his confidant rushed in.
"How is it? Is Madam willing to come?" Ke Yong seemed to come alive, and hurriedly asked.
The confidant shook his head with difficulty: "Madam said... she is grieving her son's death and has no heart to manage official duties. She asks you to handle them yourself, sir."
Ke Yong slumped on the chair in an instant.
The confidant suggested: "Sir, why not call your subordinates over to help?"
"Get out, get out!" Ke Yong suddenly got angry and threw a book at him.
The confidant was startled, quickly picked up the book, closed the door, and retreated.
Ke Yong looked at the desk full of official duties, feeling as if his head was going to explode.
In the past, all the official duties were handled by Fan Xinhui.
