The coffee soon arrived.
This Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee, which cost fifty U.S. dollars a pound, no longer stirred any excitement in Shen Bing.
"Shen Bing, my friend, your Phantom Immortal Technology is doing quite well!"
"Well enough. Just earning a little hard-earned money." Shen Bing took a sip of coffee. It was sweet, rich, and fragrant, with a lingering finish.
Mr. Chen nearly spat out his coffee. Wasn't this bastard a little too full of himself? If this counted as earning a little hard-earned money, how the hell was anyone else supposed to survive?
Could they even have a pleasant conversation anymore?
Fortunately, he had been through plenty and was good at adapting. He promptly took a sip of coffee to hide his embarrassment and said, "You're too modest, my friend. Still, I heard Phantom Immortal Technology recently ran into some trouble during the demolition process. Do you need any help?"
Damn it, the fox finally showed its tail.
"It's a trivial nuisance. No need to trouble you, Mr. Chen."
Hearing that, Mr. Chen felt even more frustrated. This bastard wasn't playing by the rules!
I'd already offered to help to get on your good side, and now I've come in person to offer support. With an attitude like that, you'll have a hard time keeping any friends.
Suddenly, Mr. Chen's heart skipped a beat. Could this fellow already know who I was and what I wanted? If so, I'd be on the back foot.
"My friend, I'm afraid it's more than a minor nuisance. This is the internet age. Once word gets out online that Phantom Immortal Technology is digging up people's ancestral graves, the reputation you've worked so hard to build could come crashing down." Mr. Chen spoke with earnest concern, sounding so sincere that even he