Mrs. Zhao shot back at Zhao Tianyu's father, "What's there to ask? Our son got hit! Are you even his father?"
The atmosphere in the conference room was terrifyingly quiet, the air as still as if it had frozen solid.
Director Wang from the Landscape Architecture Department was so angry his face turned red, and he was just about to speak.
But Lu Fan gently raised a hand, stopping him.
He sat beside Jiang Silu, not having said a word the entire time.
Lu Fan's expression was calm, as if he were watching a play whose victorious outcome was already certain.
He turned his head and glanced at Jiali. The look was faint, but Jiali understood immediately.
Jiali walked forward, handed him a tablet, and leaned over to whisper a few words.
On the screen was a detailed file: Zhao Tianyu's father's name, his company's name, registered capital, annual revenue, a list of partner suppliers, and even tax records from the last three years—all listed with perfect clarity, line by line.
