After a short pause, Jiang Zong lifted his head.
He blinked a few times as he held Fu Zhi's gaze with his brows raised questioningly. "What did you just call me?"
He had barely finished his sentence before his illness came back to haunt him. He covered his chest and let out a few fits of cough, his breathing sounding raspy.
"Mr. Bigshot," Fu Zhi repeated, setting her jaw tight. "I'm asking you to pay for the damage."
'Pay for the damage, understand?'
The pen had been gifted to her by her second brother. It had cost more than a few hundred thousand yuan, not to mention that it was the only one in this world.
Nobody spoke for a moment, and silence reigned.
Jiang Zong looked at Fu Zhi again and had to admit that she was the prettiest young lady he had ever seen in his life.
Her figure was slender, and the black sweater she had put on brought out the fairness of her skin. He coughed again as he rubbed his chest.
