narrow red

For the next week, Kuangzheng is preparing for the consultation salon with Youqin. The theme is "Tax Planning and Response to Tax Audit". They are all rich people who run around the world, and they can spend an afternoon here purely because of the brand of Youqin.

Taking a break from his busy schedule, he asked Wanrong's legal counsel to help Baozhan read the brokerage contract. Party B was obliged to only keep the performance related, and the extra public relations activities, so that Baozhan could make a verbal agreement with Mavericks.

On Wednesday, Kuang Zheng wore a steady black suit with a silver-gray tie, and a pair of Edward Green's classic black Oxfords on his feet. The swan beak-like toe cap was elegant and stable, and he strode into the venue.

Xia Ke and the others arrived early in the morning to coordinate with the hotel about the layout of the venue. Duan Zhao came earlier than Kuangzheng, and was leaning against the reception table to read the list. He was also wearing a black suit with shimmering fabric, excessively pinched waist and slightly narrow shoulders. , making him look delicate and fragile.

"Mr. Kuang." Seeing Kuang Zheng, he greeted casually.

Approaching, Kuangzheng found that his suit was better than his own, a bit stealing the limelight: "Your outfit," he smiled grandly, "It's so beautiful."

Duan Zhao raised his eyes from the list, and looked at his suit: "Both each other."

Next to them, Huang Bailiang and Xia Ke were wearing ordinary suits costing thousands of dollars in the mall, silently keeping a distance from them.

"Are you studying art?" Kuang Zheng picked up the conference materials, including the introduction of Wan Rong Zhen Hui and You Qin, the information of the keynote speaker, and the summary of the lecture.

Duan Zhao reacted for a moment, then turned to stare at Xia Ke: "Xia, your skin is tight again, isn't it?"

Xia Ke quickly hid behind Huang Bailiang, trembling.

"I studied art management," Duan Zhao rolled his eyes, and said to Kuang Zheng, "mainly art collection and trading, dealing with galleries and auction houses."

"Then how do you become a buyer?"

"A few years ago, the domestic art market was not open," Duan Zhao said. "The people who buy art are actually the same group as those who buy wine and luxury goods, and it's not considered a career change."

Just as he was talking, a guest arrived, and Kuangzheng put on his best form, took out a business card holder from his chest, skillfully popped out a wrinkled gold-sprinkled business card, and handed it over: "Hello, Wanrong Zhenhui, for You provide excellent wealth planning."

Duan Zhao stood beside him, side by side for only a second, and took half a step back.

Kuang Zheng noticed this change, a small gesture, indicating that Duan Zhao confirmed the hierarchical relationship between them.

The guest took the business card with a blank expression, without looking at it, and walked straight into the venue.

Kuang Zheng didn't take it seriously, given the current situation of Wanrong Zhenhui, not to mention fame, even his life is almost gone, any kind of cold reception is reasonable.

"Brother!" Someone in the corridor ahead waved in this direction.

Kuang Zheng took a closer look and found it was Feng Kuan: "Why are you here?"

The two shook hands, and Feng Kuan stood beside him: "Come and help you stand on the platform."

"Come on," Kuang Zheng sneered, "Did you find a reason to come out to breathe?"

"What a joke," Feng Kuan buttoned up his suit, "do I have to find a reason for my breath?" He looked towards the venue, "and said that you have no money in private money. This place and this arrangement are quite impressive!"

It's a bit embarrassing for Kuang Zheng to say this: "My own money."

Feng Kuan stared back at him, dumbfounded.

For a long time, neither of them spoke. Duan Zhao and the others felt desolate when they heard it. Suddenly, Feng Kuan said, "Give me the ticket, and I'll report it to you."

This time, Chang Kuangzheng stared: "It's all right, you!"

"Stop talking nonsense," Feng Kuan said, "I changed my mind later."

Duan Zhao and the others looked at each other, thinking that Kuang was very popular.

Kuang Zheng whispered the amount of money into Feng Kuan's ear, Feng Kuan squeezed his eyes impatiently, and whispered, "No problem, you bring it!"

"Thanks," Kuang Zheng nudged him, "Brother."

"Thank you fart," Feng Kuan raised his hand, "It's not my own money."

After going back and forth like this, both of them found a sense of camaraderie. The guests arrived one after another, many of them were Feng Kuan's acquaintances.

Youqin's people arrived just in time, and after another exchange of greetings, the speaker entered the lounge to prepare, leaving a junior employee at the door to serve with Xia Ke and the others.

They signed a sharing agreement for this cooperation. They said it was a salon, but in fact it was in the nature of business promotion. What Youqin wanted was a consulting order, and Wanrong Zhenhui took a consultant commission. Provide [-] hours of tax consulting services a year.

Some of the guests were interested in wealth management. Kuang Zheng made a brief introduction and greeted Duan Zhao: "Please ask our professional account manager to serve you," he called naturally, "Duan Er."

Being called "Duan'er" by him, Duan Zhao was stunned for a moment, and walked over slowly. When the guests saw his suit, they immediately liked him—the suit represented the worth of the account manager, and the account manager represented the level of the private bank. That's why Duan Zhao Hengcheng is like that, and Kuang Zheng also let him, because this person is meticulous in business.

While receiving business, Kuang Zheng, who was used to playing with data to make valuations, realized for the first time what is the tiredness of public relations. His face was almost stiff with a smile. Feng Kuan patted him on the shoulder, and pouted in the corridor ahead: "Yes. Color Electronics."

There were still more than 20 meters away, and he led Kuangzheng to meet him: "Mr. Zhang!"

Mr. Zhang of Zhengcai Electronics is not very old, he is similar to Kuangzheng. He brought his wife and cfo (1) with him. While chatting, his wife has been looking down at the shoes. There may be a wedding in the hotel banquet hall on the first floor. She The upper of the shoe is made of plastic, and a few pieces of gold paper are sucked on it, and the shiny light will not rub off.

"It's so annoying!" Mrs. Zhang is in her 20s, very beautiful, half a head taller than her husband, "This is a broken hotel, rubbish sticks to your feet and you can't shake it off, so bad luck!"

Mr. Zhang looked down at his daughter-in-law's shoes. The chief financial officer beside him was full of white hair. It was impossible for him to take care of this matter. Everyone was a little embarrassed. Only Kuang Zheng said "I'm rude" and squatted down.

A handsome man, even bending over to wipe someone's shoes is handsome.He held up Mrs. Zhang's nine-centimeter-high awl, took off the gold paper one by one, and raised his head in a half-squat position: "Sorry, we caused trouble for you because we didn't consider the surrounding environment in organizing the event. "

Mrs. Zhang was a little embarrassed when such an upright man polished her shoes, and leaned on his husband: "Oh, I just said that...you are tired."

"It should." Kuang Zheng got up and threw the gold paper into the trash can, clapped his hands, and talked and laughed happily when he came back. During this time, Mr. Zhang glanced at him intentionally or unintentionally, and put his business card into the inner pocket of his suit.

At 02:30, the salon started on time. As the organizer, Kuangzheng took the stage to speak. The core was to introduce the business of Wanrong Zhenhui. The content was copied from the book that Baochan sent him. He wrote so many management speeches in a , with this familiarity, coupled with the handsome man, any nonsense is as true as it is.

When Youqin's person started to give a lecture, he came out of the venue, with his chest slightly in his mouth, went to find a cubicle in the bathroom, and took off his suit.

Last night he and Baochan were watching TV on the sofa. Baochan was wearing big shorts and sitting next to him with his legs crossed. Kuangzheng couldn't control his eyes. He kept looking at his lap, which made Baochan feel uncomfortable. : "Brother, why do you always look at my shorts?"

Kuangzheng borrowed the slope to get off the donkey: "Hey, let me see your shorts..."

Bao Chan snapped his hand open: "What's there to see in the big pants, you're so weird..."

Kuang Zheng also felt that he was a bit weird, so he put his hands on the sofa behind him: "You said that we are like this..." He asked in a strange way, "Does it seem to be living a life?"

Baochan didn't understand: "What does it look like? Isn't it just living a life."

"That's not what I meant," Kuang Zheng lowered his head and saw his legs again, "Um... I was tired from acting two days ago, are my legs okay?"

As he said that he was going to start again, Baochan twisted his buttocks and directly pressed his legs on his legs: "It's okay, it's fine."

Kuangzheng's heart was beating a little, his mouth was a little dry, his hands on the back of the sofa wanted to tighten but he felt awkward: "You said if one of us is a woman, are we both married?"

"Well," Baozhan picked up the red Fuji on the coffee table and took a big bite, "It's just that you are too stupid to be a daughter-in-law, and you can't do anything. I don't want it."

"What do you think, brat?" Kuang Zheng flicked his brain, "Our family must be your daughter."

"Why?" Baochan rubbed his forehead, "I should be a man!"

"What kind of man?" Kuang Zheng rolled up his shirt sleeves, "I am taller than you, and my arms are thicker than yours."

Baochan was not convinced: "We are doing push-ups!"

"Competition," said Kuangzheng, who has also trained his muscles for several years, and is not afraid of him physically. "If I win, you will be my girl."

"Who will be your girl!" Baochan jumped up and jumped on him, the red apple fell and rolled to the floor, with the bitten side facing up, showing fresh teeth marks.

The two were arguing on the sofa, Bao Chan had kung fu and didn't dare to use his strength, so Kuang Zheng held him down with his weight and locked his wrists: "Are you convinced!"

"Let go!" Baochan twisted desperately on the sofa, "If you don't let go, I'll kick you!"

"Come on!" Kuang Zheng was very enthusiastic.

Baochan raised his leg and kicked, Kuangzheng let go of one hand and grabbed his ankle, the sofa was shaking so badly that Baochan couldn't use his strength, sweated profusely, and twisted on his chest indiscriminately.

"Ah!" Kuang Zheng let go of him, covered his left chest and did not move.

Bao Chan got up suddenly: "Brother, what's wrong?"

Kuangzheng slowly turned up the old man's shirt, bit by bit, to the top of his chest muscles, and the left part was twisted red by Bao Chuan: "You are so cruel to your brother," he said miserably, "Is it bleeding? ?”

Baochan knelt on the sofa and looked closer: "It's nothing, just scratched the skin."

Kuangzheng pushes back: "Let me give you a try?"

Baochan was used to suffering and pain, and felt that he was too delicate: "You can wipe it with your saliva, and it will be fine tomorrow."

What crooked ways, Kuang Zheng felt disgusted when he heard it: "Go, get the medicine box."

"What?" Baochan thought he was making a big fuss, "I filled the medicine box with some blood, come, I'll treat you," he said, sticking out his tongue and licking his fingers.

"No," Kuang Zheng was facing the enemy, jumped off the sofa and hid on the stairs, "It's all bacteria!"

"I have no bacteria," Baochan chased after him, "I just took two bites of an apple, and I smear you with apple flavor!"

That's it, Kuangzheng put on a piece of Fu Meihua's Band-Aid this morning. It was airtight and it would be uncomfortable in a few hours. He took a spare one out of his trouser pocket and stuck it on his left chest.

As soon as they put on their shirts, a few people entered the bathroom and talked over the urinal:

"I said, today's scene is quite handsome." The voice was Xia Ke.

"The one whose surname is Kuang does practical work." This is Huang Bailiang.

Duan Zhao should be there, but he didn't make a sound.

"It's been a long time since I've been in our company, and this is the first time I've seen a real rich man." Xia Ke went to the sink to wash his hands, "This is a bit of a private bank."

"Duan'er," Huang Bailiang also went over, "Don't be too pessimistic, maybe this time you can really come back to life."

It was quiet outside, only the sound of washing hands.

"It's useless," Duan Zhao muttered for a long time, "such a big mess, how much can he make it by himself?"

Kuang Zheng tied up his shirt, tightened his tie, put on his suit again, walked out as if he didn't hear you, and stood beside the three of them in front of the sink.

The three pairs of eyes didn't dare to look at him directly, they stared round in the mirror, when Kuangzheng raised his head, he lowered it in unison.

"One person definitely can't turn the sky." Kuangzheng took out two paper towels and walked towards the door.

The eyes of the three people followed him.

"But our group is different," Kuang Zheng threw the paper into the trash can, stretched out his suit, and pushed open the door, leaving only a single sentence, "As long as we are willing to fight, the world will change color for us."

(1) cfo: chief financial officer.