Chapter 73: [Boss Jian, I am called Zhien Tubao] 46
Jian Yi leaned his whole body on the back of the chair, crossed his elegant legs, and looked at the design drawings brought by the company in front of him with a distant look.
Even a person like him, who doesn't know much about architectural design, can probably draw these rubbish.
There were not many ups and downs on his handsome face, but the person sitting next to him could feel that there was a biting coldness in his eyes. It was not easy to be noticed, but it was also an existence that could not be ignored.
Manager Chen wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked at him with a sarcastic face.
"Mr. Jian..."
Jian Yi turned around and looked at him with dark and bright eyes.
With just one glance, Manager Chen seemed to feel that half of his life had been lost, and his face was frozen.
"Say something quickly."
"Mr. Jian seems to be in a bad mood."
Jian Yi smiled slightly, and there was not much chill in his face. It looked like, if anything, this smile was actually a deeper and sinister smile than before.
His eyebrows were raised, "When was it your turn to guess my thoughts?"
"The villain doesn't dare, the villain doesn't dare..."
Manager Chen immediately shrank his neck and dealt with it carefully.
Jian Yan narrowed his eyes slightly, dragged his chin with one hand, and threw the design draft on the table to the ground without saying a word with the other hand.
The sound of flapping shocked everyone present.
With a heart that could jump out of his throat at any time, he carefully looked at the unusually handsome man sitting on the chair.
His face exuded a look of total waste and disdain, like looking at a rat crossing the street.
Jian Yi slightly outlined the corners of her mouth, raising a perfect arc.
His thin lips were slightly opened, and a pure and magnetic voice came out gently from his thin lips.
"Are all the people in City A trash?"
As soon as the words came out, the hearts of the people below seemed to have stopped moving for a moment, and they did not dare to beat in their chests.
"What are these designs called?"
He briefly took a look at the design draft he threw on the ground.
The emotion leaking out of his eyes made him feel sick, just like seeing a rat crossing the street.
He played with the pen in his hand and tapped the table again and again, as if waiting for the reaction of the person below.
You look at me, I look at you, but no one dares to talk in front of him.