Zhuang Zhongming was clearly taken aback, and his gaze toward Zhuang Yan became more flustered.
“Mr. Zhuang, I would like to discuss the next matter with you privately.”
If he refuses, he doesn't mind exposing this scandal in public.
Zhuang Zhongming had lost his previous composure and confidence. He comforted his wife, whispering words of comfort in her ear. To outsiders, this scene seemed quite beautiful.
Even though his wife was ill, he still loved her.
Some illnesses, if faked for too long, will eventually become real.
Zhuang Zhongming took Tang Jing to the bedroom and had the servants watch over her, then called Zhuang Yan to the study.
Zhuang Yan looked at the somewhat reserved Song Lu and told him with his eyes that everything would be alright.
Zhuang Yan had said on the way that everything would go smoothly.
Whether he was confident or overconfident, Song Lu still chose to believe him.
Upon entering the study, Zhuang Yan calmly and composedly produced the agreement: "I don't want anything from the Zhuang family. If there are no problems, please sign it."
Unaffected, Zhuang Zhongming sat in his executive chair, lit a cigarette, and then opened a drawer to take out the ledger: "I told you that if you want to sever ties with us, you should return the money first." He didn't believe Zhuang Yan could come up with 300 million.
That 300 million not only includes child support, but also the losses incurred by the company in recent years, which is utterly shameless.
Seeing these detailed terms, Zhuang Yan laughed angrily: "Mr. Zhuang, I'm not discussing this with you, I'm informing you. I've lived with my grandmother since I was six years old, and she raised me until I was 18. I don't know where you get the nerve to ask me to return 300 million. Only you know how these accounts came about. Don't give me any nonsense. If you really piss me off, I don't mind exposing the fact that Ms. Tang killed her youngest daughter and made her eldest son take the blame."
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