The slightly chubby man hurriedly nodded and shook his head, "Minister Zhang, I'm just, just a little excited. After all, you're my idol, and suddenly being able to speak with my idol, I haven't quite come to terms with it yet."
Zhang Beixing nodded secretly.
A mature middle-aged man indeed, quite adept at flattery, very good, I love hearing this kind of talk.
"Quickly, what's your question? There are others waiting behind you."
Indeed.
The slightly chubby man had already felt it.
At least a hundred murderous gazes were already fixed on him, just because he was delaying.
Zhang Beixing only allocated ten minutes for this round of questions.
What can you do in ten minutes?
Isn't it just inviting seven or eight people to ask questions? That's brilliant.
But how many reporters are there here?
Just now, there were three or four hundred people raising their hands!
Holy moly, the odds of five or six dozen to one fell on you, and here you go, stumbling over your words!
