The Sweeping Monk?

Huang Rushi scratched his head awkwardly. "Mr. Yang, it's just... we're supposed to form a team, right? Some of my teammates might not be very familiar with certain things, so we need to rent a dance studio..."

 

Finishing his sentence, this burly man with a rugged build felt sheepish and lowered his head. He knew this request might be pushing it—Mr. Yang had already agreed to provide financial support, back the studio, and offer very generous terms without interfering with the studio's decisions.

 

Yet here he was, Huang Rushi, asking to rent a dance studio outside the company, a place even Mr. Yang wouldn't see when coming to work.

 

Oh well... if Mr. Yang didn't agree, he'd just find some place casually to practice. After all, he had endured quite a bit; this wouldn't make much difference.

 

Just as this thought surfaced, Yang Ruoqian's voice brought Huang Rushi back to reality.