Zhao Mingshun's refusal made Wang Qianqiu quite furious—was he actually looking down on him?
But then again, they were classmates. They said whatever they wanted, and he couldn't hold it against him. Besides, Zhao Mingshun did have some resources.
Wang Qianqiu glanced at Feng Jun. "Old Feng, can I bring in outside help? Someone not from our Xia Nation department?"
"Of course," Feng Jun replied casually. "I welcome experts, too. But I have to stress one thing: if you don't place, you'll get at most that two hundred thousand... Those half-hearted papers won't get a single cent. Think it through."
"Heh, listen to you," Wang Qianqiu said, getting a little puffed up. "Half-hearted? Do I look like the kind of person who only cares about two hundred thousand? I'm aiming for 1.2 million!"
"Then do a good job," Feng Jun said with a wave of his hand. "If you do well, I'd even dare give you twelve million..."
At this point, his expression turned serious. "We're all classmates, so I won't brag to you. I have more money now than you could possibly imagine—far, far more. I really do want everyone to live well."
"My classmates shouldn't have nowhere to put their abilities to use. If I have the means but can't help you, then I've let you all down. But that said, you need to produce results that are at least decent... so I can justify giving you money, right?"
He didn't know whether he had gone too far, but he felt those words had come from the bottom of his heart.
The moment he said them, he regretted it a little. Why was he showing off? Wouldn't it have been better to keep lying low?
But seeing his classmates struggling bitterly just as he once had, he still