After filming and uploading, he called it a day.
Zhang Yang had no interest in checking it every few minutes. He did not care whether anyone got slapped in the face or not. Explaining himself had merely been to reinforce his persona and make things easier going forward.
He lounged in a wicker chair on the balcony for a while, enjoying the breeze from the Huangpu River.
Only after quite some time did he remember to open Zheye and take a look.
[I'm on my knees. He's really a rich guy!]
[From this angle, that's a place in COFCO Seaview, right? A rich guy living in a hundred-million-yuan luxury home—I take back what I said.]
[Tch, just another nouveau riche. What's he acting all smug for?]
[No, the OP seems pretty decent. He openly admitted that he's only rich and feels lost about what to do next. Why do you have to mock him? Some kind of cheap keyboard warrior?]
Zhang Yang remained completely unfazed. These random replies were not what he wanted.
He firmly believed that on a platform as vast as Zheye, there had to be people capable of offering reasonable advice beyond this useless noise.
[I suggest the OP enroll in an executive program, preferably at Tsinghua or Peking University. That would not only help you improve and enrich yourself, but also let you chat with classmates from Tsinghua and Peking University, as well as all kinds of experts and big shots, and build a high-quality social circle.]
[As for your appearance and temperament, find a professional styling studio, or work on your posture and bearing. There's no need to buy personal training classes at a gym—the trainers at those little private gyms will drain your kidneys dry. Also, remember this: don't pile on Armani, Gucci, and