Binhai City is less than 1,000 kilometers away.

China, Shanghai Stock Exchange.

The inauguration ceremony of the new headquarters building of Fanxing Group.

Qiantong sighed helplessly, "There are so many people! I hate the places with a lot of people the most."

Lao Yu, a photographer carrying a camera, comforted him: "There is no way, who lets us eat this bowl of rice? Why do you hate that many people and have to be admitted to the journalism department and become a reporter?"

When he mentioned this, Qiantong was full of resentment and said, "I was admitted to the journalism department because I wanted to be a TV host. Who would have thought that I would squeeze into the TV station and finally squeeze into the TV station, but I asked me to be a little reporter!"

Old Yu was in his forties and had already started a family and had a good understanding of these things. He was wearing a work vest with many pockets, holding a camera in one hand, and taking out a pack of cigarette from the vest's chest pocket with the other hand. He shook his wrist and shook it out of the gap. He lowered his head and held it in his mouth, took out the lighter and lit it, and took a deep breath.

"Who doesn't want to be a host? Being a host is so glorious. The problem is that you have no way out, and you are not a professional broadcaster. Just do it and make do with it, and you are just making a living."

Old Yu took another puff of cigarette and looked at the crowds in front of him, and felt a little irritated. There were many people and many peers. When competing for a good photography position, he had to go through a bloody battle. There were also situations in the past when he rushed to start, but when he thought of the red envelope he was about to receive, his irritability turned into expectations.

He pushed the cap upwards, looking up at the newly completed Fanxing Headquarters Building.

This 25-story building is square, angular, and looks steady and solid, but it doesn't look special compared to other innovative buildings. It is logical that Fanxing Group is so rich that it won't even be able to afford an internationally renowned architectural designer, right?

What if it's up to him, it's not my business anyway. He pressed down the brim of the baseball cap again.

A long red carpet is laid in front of the main entrance of the building, extending from inside to outside the building, and then extending to both sides.

Several starry technicians debugged the microphone at the podium.

There were a bunch of things on the left and right sides of the podium covered with red cloth. I don’t know what it was, but it will be revealed in a while.

Qiantong took out the makeup mirror and carefully put on makeup.

"Let's go, Fanxing Public Relations Department has come out, hurry up and get the red envelope." Lao Yu pushed her and urged.

Qiantong also became energetic. No matter how much she complained, no one would be unable to get along with the money.

I just don’t know how thick Fanxing’s red envelope is, and whether it’s enough to buy a bottle of imported perfume?

Other reporters present also started to move and flocked to the fund owners this time.

"Don't worry, come here to line up to sign in, everyone has a share." The head of Fanxing Public Relations Department said with a smile.

This is already a practice in the industry. The reporters who come to report will have a lot of money and will be lenient, so that reporters will also choose good writing when writing reports.

Qiantong and Lao Yu lined up in order and reported their own TV station's name. The head of the public relations department simply handed them two red envelopes.

Crushing out of the crowd, Qiantong couldn't wait to open the red envelope and counted, "2888! Fanxing is quite generous!"

Lao Yu put the camera on the ground, opened the red envelope, and took out all the money inside and counted. There was only 1888 in his red envelope, but it was better to have it than not. It was always unlucky to do it behind the scenes.

He carefully counted out 200 yuan and stuffed the remaining 1,688 back into the red envelope.

"Old Yu, what are you doing?" Qiantong asked in confusion.

Lao Yu stuffed the red envelope into one of the work vests and smiled and said, "It's all my fault for this stinky mouth. Once I got drunk too much, I casually told my wife that such important press conferences were usually sent. As a result, my wife remembered it in her heart. Since then, all the red envelopes received have to be handed over to her. As a man, how can I have no private money?"

He photographed the remaining 200 yuan, "I handed it over to her at 1688, and I said I only sent 1688. I'll be fine with these 200."

"Damn!" Qiantong cursed, "You stinky men! You are so jealous!"

Lao Yu responded unwillingly: "It's not that you women who are too tight to care about it? I can't even smoke cigarettes, otherwise how could this be the worst!"

"No, I have to tell my sister-in-law one day!" She was quite united in the same hatred of the enemy.

Lao Yu smiled, "If you tell her, I won't tell you other secret tricks. You will suffer a loss when you find a man in the future!"

"You..." Qiantong couldn't speak hatefully.

Lao Yu raised two hundred-dollar bills, looked at Guang, and verified the anti-counterfeiting mark. He heard from his peers that there were actually red envelopes sent by the company that were mixed with counterfeit bills, so he had to be more careful.

There is no problem with the anti-counterfeiting mark, it is a real money.

He felt relieved. He just put down his raised hand, but suddenly discovered an interesting coincidence.

"Qiantong, look." He greeted his companions.

"What's wrong?"

Qiantong responded absent-mindedly. She was still thinking about Lao Yu hiding his private money just now, and thought that when she found her husband in the future, she must learn from him and not learn from Sister Yu. She had to give her husband more pocket money every month, but she could not give too much, otherwise he might have used the money to spend money... How much is appropriate to give? 300 or 500?

"Qiantong, come and take a look." Old Yu greeted again.

"What?" She walked over with pleasure.

"Look, does this ratio look like it?" Old Yu excitedly held a hundred-dollar bill for her to see.

"What proportion is not proportional?" She was confused.

Lao Yu said anxiously: "Look at this banknote and this building, look carefully!"

He is a photographer and is very good at finding suitable angles to observe objects and people. At this time, he was holding a hundred-dollar bill in his hand, facing Fanxing's new building, erecting the banknotes next to the building, and calling Qiantong to come and see it.

"Look, is the length and width ratio of this banknote very similar to the width and height ratio of this building?"

Qiantong approached him, looked at the banknotes suspiciously, and then looked at the new building.

"Is there?" She wasn't sure.

Lao Yu said affirmatively: "You can't be wrong!"

"So what?" She was still not interested.

Lao Yu was a little discouraged, "Don't you think it's interesting? This is unlikely to be a coincidence, right?"

"Why can't it be a coincidence?" she asked back.

"This..." Lao Yu couldn't tell the reason, "It was a coincidence!"

"So what if it's not a coincidence? I'll design the building as it wants..."

She didn't feel curious about why Fanxing designed the building to be the aspect ratio of RMB? Lao Yu deeply felt that men and women really had no common language.

He looked at the podium and Fanxing's employees had left. The main show was about to be staged. 8)
Chapter completed!