After just a few peaceful days, Zhu Wencong was caught by Gian Paolo, and the century-long investment plan in Chicago had become known to all.
Gian Paolo felt like a clown, as he had been wholeheartedly good to Zhu Wencong, but alas, he was less favored than newcomers.
At this moment, Gian Paolo just wanted an explanation; he refused to be treated like a clown, Zhu Wencong was pushing people too far!
"Don't be so angry, it's not good for your health. Our ancestors always said, 'Don't get angry, if you ruin your health, no one can take your place.'
Take a sip of this red tea from my hometown of Wuyi Mountains. Doesn't it calm your heart at once?" Zhu Wencong poured Gian Paolo a cup of tea.
"Mr. Z, have I not treated you well? Isn't everything I've given you something others couldn't possibly do?
You wanted to build an Oil Empire, I helped you; you wanted to speculate in property, I helped you; you wanted to settle Easterners, no problem!
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