Wen Li has a strong voice, speaks slowly, and enunciates clearly and easily.
"Good evening, Grandma Wen," Zhang Jing greeted, "Did I disturb you?"
"No," Wen Li chatted on the phone, "Butterfly and I are watching the stars in the yard."
"What are your orders?" Zhang Jingzun asked.
"It's not about giving orders," Wen Li then talked about the Montes family, "I hope you can keep the Montes family and all the properties."
If someone else said this, Zhang Jing would have already picked up the bricks to refute.
The other party is Wen Li, and he can listen patiently and quietly.
"First of all, the Montes family has developed for six or seven generations, which is very difficult and rare;
Secondly, Ireland itself is not large, with an area of 70,000 square kilometers and a population of just over 5 million. For newcomers, this is a relatively good place to gain a foothold;
Third, judging from the Montes family’s industrial layout, it is closer to ordinary people and farmers and can easily win the hearts of the people;
Fourth, if you dismantle the Montes family, it will have a huge impact on your reputation. "
After speaking in one breath, Wen Li finally said, "This is an opportunity, the shortest way from "individual" to "family";
Of course, these are just my personal suggestions. That’s all for today. I’m tired. "
Zhang Jing responded quickly, "Good night, old lady."
After hanging up the phone, Zhang Jing thought quietly and listened to the message. Wen Li hoped that he would "go public through a back door" and "move from the shallow sea to the deep sea."
But the fourth point that Zhang Jing is more concerned about - "reputation has a huge impact."
Originally, Zhang Jing never cared about reputation, so he messed around in Bangzi. As a result, everyone on earth knew about it, and people always mentioned it from time to time.
"Brother Zhang," the phone was on loudspeaker just now, and Ding Jiaqi could hear clearly from the side, "Grandma Wen is right, we should not dismantle the Montes family."
Zhang Jing also agreed. He was still too young and young. He only had money in his eyes and almost lost his way.
"Pay the inheritance tax," Zhang Jing said confidently, "and let us run the Montes family and business well."
at the same time.
Just when Zhang Jing decided to run the Montes family business well, tensions were rising in the parlor of a manor in the northern suburbs of Dublin.
The two sides in the confrontation are Jonathan Rice, who is in his forties and has a strong body.
The other is 94-year-old Parrange, who owns large construction companies in Indy and the Thousand Islands and is the third largest landowner in Ireland.
"Killed? Or escaped?" The old Parangi looked at Jonathan Rice with cloudy eyes and asked.
"The bodyguard is yours," Jonathan Rice reminded. "The probability of Bayi escaping is very small."
"Suppose she was killed," Parangi added. "Who killed her? Where is the body?"
"That's what I want to know too."
"Montes Bey borrowed a small target of 25 euros from me," Paranghi said word by word. "She said that the plan will definitely succeed;
Now it seems that this may be your plan within a plan, a plan within a plan. "
"Absolutely not," Jonathan Rice immediately denied. "If nothing else happens, Zhang Jing will take out the principal owed to you. With the cash in the Montes family's account, there is absolutely no problem in paying off your debt."
"The question is where is Bay now?" Parangi asked Jonathan Rice.
Jonathan Rice said heartbrokenly, "There is a high probability that Bei is no longer alive."
"Who is the murderer?" Parangi asked.
"Whoever profits the most," Jonathan Rice boldly guessed, "is the murderer."
"You mean Zhang Jing, when did he discover that Montes Bei faked his death?"
"I don't know," Jonathan Rice thought for a long time before coming here. "He asked me for the Montes family business accounts before. Since there were no obvious loopholes, Bei and I gave them to him."
"There are no obvious loopholes," Parangi murmured to himself, "That is, if there is a loophole, someone will discover it, kill Montes Bay, and confirm the identity of the heir."
Jonathan Rice's heart was bleeding, that's probably what it looked like, otherwise it wouldn't make sense.
It's fine now. Stealing the chicken will end up losing the pot of rice.
At this time, Paranghi's assistant came in and reported, "A minute and a half ago, someone paid a small target inheritance tax of 25 euros to the tax office."
Upon hearing this, the 94-year-old Parangi almost farted on the spot.
According to the original plan, Montes Bay would stand up at this time and show that she was not dead, and the taxes and fees would be refunded to her name and then used to pay off the debt.
Well now, the inheritance tax belongs to the Yamen, and the Montes family belongs to Zhang Jing.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. Parangi rolled his eyes and fainted.
Jonathan Rice was also speechless for a long time. He really didn't expect it to be like this.
After leaving the Parangi residence and returning to the car, Jonathan Rice took out the pistol hidden in the passenger compartment, stuffed it into his mouth, took one last look at the world, and pulled the trigger. Chinese website
Zhang Jing doesn't know about Jonathan Rice's suicide for the time being. He will definitely feel sad if he knows. He is loyal to the fake princess and is a person worthy of respect.
After a brief three-day stay in Temasek, leaving the management of the Montes family business to his adopted daughter Yunique, Zhang Jing hurriedly returned to Kanfan Farm.
Important guests are coming to visit.
The warm sun was shining high and there was a gentle breeze. Zhang Jing saw the guests at the door of the cultural relics studio located behind the brown office area.
The guest is about forty-five or sixteen years old, of average height and build.
Wearing white lining, black suit trousers, and black leather shoes, he looks very formal.
"This is my boss, Mr. Zhang Jing, a professional treasure hunter who has made many important discoveries," Xu Zehong intervened and introduced in Mandarin, "This is Mr. Zhu Liang, deputy director of the Shenzhen City Museum."
Zhang Jing stretched out his hand and shook hands with the other party, "Mr. Zhu, what do you want from me?"
"Two things," Zhu Liangjian said, "One is that our museum wants to acquire "Princess Shunming" from you, and the other is that we want to hire Mr. Zhang to find two things for us. "
Zhang Jing ignored the transaction and asked Princess Shunming, "What are you looking for?"
"Two six-hundred-year-old statues of a human tiger and a human snake. They are stone carvings, about the size of a thermos bottle."
"Where are the cultural relics?"
"No. 924, Hongbeigang Road, Xu Zhengcheng's residence. He is a Thousand Island Chinese, and his family is prosperous in Penang."
"I know that Xu Chengcheng looks exactly like Wu Yifan," Zhang Jing shook his head repeatedly as he spoke, "How much do you plan to pay for this guy you can't afford to offend?"
"One is NT$10 million, and two towers are NT$25 million in total."
Zhang Jing's heart was pounding. He didn't expect Zhu Liang's price to be so high, but he still shook his head, "It smells good, but there's nothing you can do about it."
Newborn calves are not afraid of tigers. Zhang Jing is obviously no longer a calf. Zhu Liang also knows that the Xu family is not easy to mess with, so he retreats and asks, "Can you trade Princess Shunming to us?"
Don't be embarrassed, Zhang Jing refused directly, "I won't sell it, it has nothing to do with the price, the main thing is that I like it."
In fact, it is because there is no shortage of money.
Also because the price of Princess Shunming's tomb is high or low, it doesn't matter whether it's sold or not, it's better to keep it.
Zhu Liang didn't expect Zhang Jing to be so direct, and he suddenly felt pain in his teeth.
Then he persuaded with a kind attitude: "Sell it to our museum so that more people can see it, promote the culture of a great country, and promote national self-confidence."
"Good idea." Zhang Jing felt that the time was almost up. "I plan to build my own museum."
Zhu Liang: "..."
