Shi qinglan, shall I help you to try to get rid of the virus?

The Bo financial magnate's office building.

The air pressure in the CEO's office was extremely low. It was as if there was an invisible cold air being released. Even Wen mo held his breath and didn't dare to make a sound.

Bo Zhicheng had one hand on the office desk, his sleeve was slightly removed, revealing his well-defined wrist. The expensive watch on his wrist had also been taken off and thrown to the side.

"Master Bo ..." Wen mo pursed his lips.

He could see that the man was in a bad mood, probably because the business documents that had been corrupted by the virus could not be completely recovered.

He tried to call out to the man, but Bo Yucheng only raised his hand to tug at his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons in a slightly irritated manner. His collar was wide open, revealing a dispirited sexiness ...

"Do you have a copy of these files?" His cold lips parted slightly.