The Art of War by Sun Tzu

Scarface smiled amiably.

"No need to trouble Scarface, I, I'll do it myself."

Wen Tai, trembling, took the tissue and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"Mr. Wen, we've been old friends, haven't we? Otherwise, we wouldn't have invited you here today for a chat, right?"

Wen Tai hurriedly nodded, the other party's smiling face appearing to him like a demonic mask.

He knew all too well the methods of these people.

"Scarface, of course, we're friends. Just consider our years of friendship and grant me some more time. Of course, the interest will still accrue."

Wen Tai, a man of some standing in Zhejiang, forced a smile on his face.

The squatting Scarface let out a laugh, then patted his face.

It was an extremely insulting gesture.

Wen Tai was furious but dared not speak, even having to maintain his stiff smile.

"Mr. Wen, it's not a matter of interest or no interest..."

Halfway through Scarface's words, another voice sounded.

"Let Mr. Wen come over."