Qiao Wangbei was not a high-profile person, and most people in the exhibition hall didn't know him.
They only saw a thin, tall, and capable middle-aged man rushing forward like a gust of wind. His hair was short and neat, his black eyes were narrowed, and his momentum resembled a tidal wave about to crash down.
Because his figure was too thin, it made him look a little skeletal, cold, and ruthless, giving off a very harsh and cold impact.
He was about to rush up to the stage when the organizer stopped him. "Sir?"
The stage is already chaotic enough. Which great god is this?
Many people in the audience didn't know him either, and they were discussing among themselves until an industry insider who knew him said his name, "Isn't he Qiao Wangbei? He's Old Master Qiao's only son!"
The organizer was dumbfounded.
