my brother became a scum

The things Zhang Chen left for me allowed me to solve the most difficult projects at hand, but the accounts still suffered serious losses every day. What made it worse was that other members of the board of directors bribed several professional managers under Zhang Chen's group. In between, there was a great pressure tilted to my head.

I didn't have time to leave the city, let alone go to Vancouver to continue my studies. Just when I was about to ask for leave from the school, I received my graduation certificate and even the honor of an honorary alumnus.

Holding the long-awaited doctoral diploma in my hand, I just thought it was absurd, so I simply threw it in the cabinet and stopped looking at it.

Oda called me, the main idea was to ask for money, I suddenly remembered this, when I wanted to take the time to transfer money, the assistant reminded me that I could pass the aid fund.

There are many relief funds under Zhang Chen's name. On the one hand, they are for charity, and on the other hand, they are also for tax avoidance-almost all groups do this, and a set of people carefully calculates how to maximize their benefits.

I initially insisted on using my own savings to transfer money, but after only sleeping for less than six hours for three consecutive days and nights, I really didn't have the energy to make a fuss, so I handed over all the power to the assistant.

After the assistant agreed, he completed all the procedures within three hours, and even sent someone to send Xiaotian's younger sister to a better hospital. Xiaotian thanked me solemnly, and I wished him and his sister good luck, and I didn't even have time to listen to him After speaking, he hung up the phone.

Wu Qingfei is getting older, and his physical strength is not as good as before. He has a good son named Wu Ming, who directly called him into the company and asked me to try it out.

Wu Ming was a young man in his early thirties. He looked very refined and scum, with white skin and big eyes, and he looked a bit mixed.I asked Wu Qingfei, and his wife was indeed a foreigner, and Wu Ming was of mixed race. When he was young, Wu Qingfei's father-in-law was worried, so he specially took the child with him.

Generally, according to such a family background, Wu Ming should have a share in his own business, but the economic crisis a few years ago directly ruined Wu Ming's grandfather's career. Wu Ming had been a professional manager for several years, and Wu Qingfei called him back to help.

I am more or less inclined to control the appearance. When I saw Wu Qingfei for the first time, at least I had a comfortable comment. We talked all afternoon, and I felt good or bad. For the time being, just like Wu Qingfei said, let’s use it first.

Wu Ming is a person with top-notch work ability and first-class interpersonal skills. I have only been busy for more than ten days. The meeting arrangements that came down were all arranged in an orderly manner.

I let Wu Ming airborne to the branch office, and I was going to train him. He can guarantee to complete all the tasks of the day within six hours, and he can go to my office to grind coffee in the remaining two hours.

I didn't take too much notice of being overly courteous, so I reminded him tactfully, "You have just returned to China, you can go out to have fun, or get more rest."

Wu Ming handed me his freshly ground coffee and said, "Boss, you are more interesting. I am not bored at all when I stay with you."

I wanted to put on the airs of the boss, but Wu Ming couldn't find anything wrong with the work in hand, and I couldn't find any reason to reprimand him, so I simply / gave him a more complicated task and let him solve it.

In addition to Wu Ming, I also promoted some people, which somewhat stabilized the overall situation.

I knew that my personal abilities did not match my position at all, so I hesitated again and again. I went home again and dug out the things Zhang Chen left for me. I worked ten hours a day, studied seven hours, and spent the rest of the time Eat and live in the company.

The company has a supporting living room, and there are also dedicated people to clean and tidy up. I simply lived here on Saturdays and Sundays.

Wu Ming took the time to go back to the head office and frowned. It was because I added an hour of fitness and half an hour of body care every day during my already tense time. He solemnly expressed that my personal image is important to the company. Image is also very important.

Two months passed quietly like this. When I signed the application for the New Year's benefits, I suddenly realized that the New Year is only two or three days away. Wu Qingfei came to the company just to remind me that maybe I should go see Zhang morning.

I haven't thought about Zhang Chen for two months, but I have read a third of his notes, and I have been learning as much knowledge and experience as possible from the files he left behind.

Wu Qingfei spoke in a calm and slow manner, each word poking at my heart, he said: "You have nothing to do during the New Year, and there is no one you want to see, Mr. Zhang Chen is the same, he is in prison , and no one will go to see him, you go to meet him, talk to him, no matter what, you have known each other for so many years."

"Isn't there still you?" I turned the pen around, unwilling to admit that I was shaken by his words of persuasion. "It's the same if you bring something to meet him."

"How could it be the same?" Wu Qingfei was not angry at all, and his words were more gentle, "Mr. Zhang Chen only wants to see one person, and besides, I am not his family."

"I'm not his family either..."

"At least if you go there, the prison guards will allow you to have a hot meal together. If I go over, I have to leave after delivering the things. Don't you know the rules of the Western Suburb Prison?"

Every Spring Festival in Xijiao Prison, relatives of inmates are given the opportunity to have New Year’s Eve dinner together, and they can stay together for five or six hours.

Zhang Chen is a man with too much self-esteem and a very good face. I am afraid that he will not stop in prison. If he has no relatives to have a New Year’s Eve dinner with him during the holidays, I don’t know if he will be ridiculed by other prisoners. I can stand it.

I raised my hand and squeezed the space between my eyebrows, struggling hard in my heart, and I said, "Let me think again, I want to go."

Wu Qingfei was very happy to get my words, and got up to leave after a while.

I didn't dwell on it for too long. The next day, the group's US branch suddenly encountered an anti-dumping surprise investigation. The relationship between the group and the US political parties has always been relatively friendly, and I don't know what the purpose of this liquidation is.I accepted Wu Ming's suggestion and went abroad to sit in charge in person.When the situation stabilizes temporarily, when I return to China, even the Lantern Festival will be over.

The person who is most familiar with the situation in the United States is Zhang Chen. After I returned to China after stabilization, I had to go to see him.

I haven't seen him for nearly three months. His whole person has changed a lot, his complexion is even worse, and the prison uniform that barely fit last time has also become empty.

He sat across from me, his beard was still not shaved, he looked up at me, and asked me: "What do you want to ask me?"

I looked at his hand, his fingers were slightly curled up, the back of his hand was so thin that blood vessels protruded, and I asked him, "Are you okay?"

"Good or bad, tell me, what's the matter."

Left and right are his clique, and I don't have to feel that I can't say anything about him.I told him about the situation at this stage. He looked at the document and asked me a few more questions.

He put down the cuffs of his prison uniform today, and the wide sleeves blocked part of my sight. He unscrewed the cap of the pen, wrote down a few numbers on the paper, and told me a few feasible plans—he He didn't tell me which plan is suitable to use, just said, how this group wants to play is up to you, and it doesn't matter if you die after playing.

His expression was very indifferent. When he said this, it didn't seem like he was joking. The fingers of his right hand were bent, and the fingertips pressed the paper, and pushed the paper to me. With a thought, I grabbed his right hand back.

"What are you grabbing my hand for?" He looked natural, as if he was simply puzzled, "My hands are a little rough, do you still want to touch them?"

I grabbed the back of his hand, and he didn't show any sign of trying to resist, which almost made me think that it was just me being too preoccupied.

"It's too rough, I'm too lazy to touch it."

I let go of his hand, and he took it back calmly, but his fingers were still half-bent.

"I want to see the palm of your hand."

"Look at what my palms do."

"I'm afraid you will take a knife and cut your own palm."

"First, it's not that easy to get a knife in prison, and second, I'm not that stupid."

"so."

The prison guard reminded me that it was almost time for the prison visit. I sorted out the documents at hand and stuffed them into a folder. After thinking about it, I said to him, "I didn't go to your mother's side, but I asked my assistant to help sweep the grave."

"Thank you." Zhang Chen said this very sincerely.

I waved my hand, but he was not polite, he stood up straight, pulled the stool away, turned around and wanted to leave.

"Zhang Chen, I brought a pack of cigarettes, here you are."

Zhang Chen turned around and stretched out his left hand. I handed the cigarette to his smooth palm, and I said, "Why don't you take it with your right hand?"

He put the cigarettes in his jacket pocket, stared at me for three seconds, pulled the corners of his mouth, stretched out his right hand that had been clenched all the time, and held his palm up in front of me—a dozen hideous scars entrenched On his white and tender palm, some knife marks have not healed yet, but the flesh on both sides has dried up and locked up blood.

My brain buzzed, even though I had a hunch, I never thought that he could be so cruel to me.

I took a breath, my anger almost burned my reason, I clenched my palms tightly, forcing myself not to grab his wrist, and I also forced myself not to touch those hideous scars.

I don't want to show that I care about him, but I know it's just self-deception.

"I didn't hurt it myself," Zhang Chen sensed the change in my mood, and naturally withdrew his hand, fingers slightly curled up again, "Some time ago, someone stepped on my hand on the broken glass."

"Aren't you good at fighting?" I turned my head away, not wanting to look at his overly calm face, "Why don't you struggle and hit him?"

"I can't beat him." Zhang Chen still looked dead, as if it wasn't him who was injured, but me. "The doctor in the prison has tried his best to deal with it. It looks scary, but it's okay."

"Zhang Chen," I had many, many things I wanted to say to him, but I lost my composure, my brain became a mess of threads, and in the end I could only say, "Take care of yourself."

He didn't respond to my words, but turned his back, raised his left hand again, and waved at me—he just left.

I suddenly remembered what I forgot today.I didn't have time to say Happy New Year to him, and neither did he.