"By the way, A'ming, now that you're so rich, do lots of relatives or friends come to you to borrow money?"
Wang Han asked curiously. This was actually a problem that troubled many wealthy people.
Wang Han himself was quite rich too, and he was often troubled by the same issue.
When relatives or friends asked him for money, he found it difficult to refuse.
If even he was like that, then Jiang Siming, the Asian Richest Man, must have encountered it even more often.
Who would have thought that Jiang Siming would answer the question so readily?
"Yes, but unless they've done my family a favor before or need money for medical treatment, I won't lend to any of them."
That was his answer—direct, without the slightest hint of tact or euphemism.
Jiang Siming really did act that way. Ever since he had struck it rich, all sorts of inexplicable relatives had come asking him for money. Some even wanted to work at his company.
The funniest part was that they had no qualifications whatsoever, yet they still wanted management positions. It was enough to make Jiang Siming laugh his head off.
Relatives he was barely related to—people he might never have had the chance to meet in his entire life—would come running over, asking him for favors and loans under all sorts of pretexts.
Jiang Siming had long since made his position clear to them. From the very beginning, he had crushed everyone's fantasies.
And now, didn't that mean there was no trouble at all? How easy.
Jiang Siming could certainly guess that the relatives who had failed to get what they wanted were badmouthing him behind his back, but what effect could that have on him?
He couldn't open that door. Once he did, a whole crowd