No Strength, No Pressure

The big man who worked for the Zhangs had a rather uncommon eyesight himself, as he could see the imposing aura these people had within them. He realized that these people were of uncommon origins, so he used his walkie-talkie to report the situation here to the person who was in charge of the family's security issues.

Deep inside the residence, the Patriarch of the Zhangs, Zhang Pinqin, was now watching calligraphy and painting in his study, while Zhang Wendi, the most outstanding junior of the new generation of his family, was standing beside him. He was also Zhang Pinqin's grandson.

"What do you think about this calligraphy painting?"

Zhang Pinqin reluctantly retracted his eyes from the calligraphy and asked his grandson.