Qiu Peilin, feeling justified, spoke loudly and confidently. At his call, four or five male colleagues from the factory put down their work and followed him out.
Thus, six men aggressively headed straight for Zhang Yang Company's booth.
On the other side, although it was noon, Zhang Yang's exhibition hall was still very busy, with staff occupied with signing orders and negotiating contracts, having no time even for lunch.
Even the most free Zhang Yang didn't go offline, continuing to chat with fans and simultaneously livestreaming the lively scene of his booth.
At this moment, a tall middle-aged man walked over.
"Who is the person in charge here?" Qiu Peilin walked over aggressively with his people, asking for the person in charge as soon as he entered.
Old Zhao was sitting at a folding table communicating with a client. Hearing the commotion, he immediately looked up.
Other visitors and Zhang Yang's team members also raised their heads simultaneously.
