But Li Zhanting knew he was listening, so he continued, "Today, the company had ten million stolen by a hacker. The amount is minor; security is paramount, so..."
“Father…” Li Zixiao understood what he meant, raised his head, and a faint contempt appeared in his eyes that had been devoid of desire. “Are the people your company employs just freeloaders?”
Li Zhanting, "..."
Li Zixiao said indifferently, "And Daddy, how can money be stolen? Are you stupid?"
Li Zhanting: "..."
He knew this would be the outcome.
"I'm going to sleep..." Li Zixiao got up from the floor and quickly crawled into bed.
The refusal was quite clear, so Li Zhanting had no choice but to get up and walk outside.
If there's anyone in this world who can make the Emperor of the Capital experience repeated defeats, then his son, Li Zixiao, must be one of them.
...
The next day, Li Zhanting specially paused his work, chased the chef out of the kitchen, closed the door, put on an apron, and prepared to make breakfast for his daughter and son himself.
He is a germaphobe and hates cooking fumes.
But her daughter, Li Qingling, often complained to her that other children could eat meals cooked by their parents, but she couldn't.
Although his son Li Zixiao didn't say it, Li Zhanting knew that he shared the same thoughts as his daughter.
After washing up, Li Zixiao came downstairs and saw a group of chefs and assistants standing timidly at the door with their hands behind their sides. Seeing that the kitchen doors were closed, he asked coldly, "Who's in there?"
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