Tomorrow is Monday, and Mr. Qian is preparing to go to the county town to seek approval from the relevant leaders.
Then, Mr. Qian suddenly remembered that other places also exhibited the same phenomenon as their commune.
Thus, if the wool processing factory could really be set up, the benefits would surely be beyond imagination.
Moreover, they had to act quickly because if other places also established wool processing factories, his might not be approved.
So, Mr. Qian wrote with his fountain pen in a steady, fluid motion, but just at that moment, someone knocked on his door. Seeing who had entered, Mr. Qian's face instantly darkened, and through clenched teeth, he pointed toward the door, "Get out of here."
Chen Tianliang stood at the doorway, looking at Mr. Qian's graying hair and said in a low voice, "Mr. Qian, I have official business with you."
"Then you should go find the deputy head; I won't talk to you."