Yitai came downstairs carrying her suitcase.
After Yi Mu got back into the car, he turned around and asked, "What are you carrying? A whole box of stuff?"
Yitai smiled at him: "It's just some books. I can't let you embarrass me at the parent-teacher conference."
Yi Mu was both amused and exasperated: "I was just joking. Do you really think you can go from failing to scoring over 100 points in just over ten days?"
Even the most talented person shouldn't play like this.
Yitai smiled but didn't explain. Anyway, when the results came out, Yimu would definitely be shocked.
The anniversary of Yimu's mother's death is approaching, and he plans to follow the script and have the eldest brother find an opportunity to record that video.
He doesn't intend to take the company; it won't fall into the hands of a villain anyway, so he'll just put on a show.
Yi Mu had drunk quite a bit of alcohol, and the eldest brother came to him pretending to discuss what gift to give the old man for his birthday.
The old man's birthday is in three days, and many people will surely come to celebrate.
However, few people remember the anniversary of Imu's mother's death; it is a quiet and desolate occasion.
With such a stark contrast in circumstances, it's no wonder the original owner was so angry.
Yi Mu's acting was quite good; he vented his anger and resentment through intense physical movements and words in the empty room.
Not yet forty, the eldest son of the Yi family, already balding and pot-bellied, looking old, smiled and exchanged a glance with someone in the shadows.
The person in the shadows put away their camera and gave him a "success" sign.
After the person quietly left, the eldest brother patted Yi Mu on the shoulder with a fake smile.
"Third brother, why are you doing this to yourself?"
He's your father, after all, who gave you life and raised you. His 60th birthday is coming up in a few days.
"When the time comes, send him some nice things; maybe he'll be so pleased that he'll choose you as his heir."
Yi Mu coldly brushed his hand away, a hint of sarcasm flashing in his eyes.
"Do you think I'm like you, someone who enjoys being a groveling dog?"
Those were harsh words, and the boss's fists were itching to punch Yi Mu.
Yi Mu's gaze shifted downwards, fixing on his fist, a mocking smile playing on his lips.
"What? You want to beat me up? I'm in a bad mood anyway, so I'm writing this to vent. Come on."
He assumed a standard fighting stance.
The boss's expression was stiff. He had long heard that Yi Mu had learned Muay Thai abroad. He looked gentle and refined, but he could actually take on several strong bodyguards by himself.
The eldest brother uttered a few harsh words and left angrily.
After he left, Yi Mu went to the bathroom to wash off the smell of alcohol.
The living room was a mess, but Yi Mu didn't care; someone would come and clean it up tomorrow morning anyway.
Before falling asleep, he vaguely heard a text message notification sound on his phone.
Yi Mu, who was already asleep, didn't pay attention to it. When he woke up the next day, he checked his phone and found that it was a text message from Xie Tuoyu.
He's coming back; he just boarded the plane when he sent the message.
Yi Mu's mood improved again. When he went to work, he could hear the employees discussing whether the president had a girlfriend. He looked very happy.
Wenlun is still Yimu's assistant, although he no longer has access to many core matters.
But this person is thick-skinned and refuses to resign voluntarily.
Yi Mu has already fallen out with the boss, and he'll definitely be given a hard time in the future.
Wenlun is a traitor with hidden dangers. Yi Mu has been waiting for him to resign voluntarily for so long, but he pretends to be ignorant even though he knows the truth.
He could only point things out.
Wenlun brought in the coffee and gently placed it on the table.
Just as he was about to take the documents that had been viewed off the table, Yi Mu looked up and called out to him.
"Assistant Wen."
Wenlun stopped in his tracks, his eyes filled with trepidation and a hint of anticipation. He stood respectfully.
"Third Young Master."
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