The speaker was a woman, about twenty-five or twenty-six years old, who looked mature and quite attractive.
She was also wearing a purple dress.
Bro Song had said that purple added to the charm.
"Widow Li Zhizhi, hurry up and tell us, what do you know?" an elite woman urged.
Li Zhizhi was angry, "Shut up, don't call me that!"
Because although she was young, she had the face and figure of a widow.
She had not even had a boyfriend, let alone got married, but she was mockingly called a widow.
Every time she heard these words, Li Zhizhi would get very angry.
"Alright, let's talk business first," Bai Xiaoya interjected, urging Li Zhizhi to hurry up.
Li Zhizhi pursed her lips and said, "I have a friend who experienced something similar.
First, her company's website was inexplicably attacked, and then one after another, the company executives had accidents.
After that, the entire industry was taken over by someone else.