Fan Taiping was calculating this way, dragging it out as long as he could, and if he could not pay, he wouldn't pay.
If those migrant workers don't come back next year, even better, there's no shortage of laborers to hire.
If they come back, that's fine too; he could keep prolonging the payment, give them some living expenses, as long as they don't starve to death.
Fan Taiping never imagined that Yi Anguo would suddenly show up at the film city. If he had known, he definitely wouldn't have let the migrant workers cause trouble.
"Why are you withholding the workers' wages?" In the office of the film city's preparatory committee, Yi Anguo looked at his nephew, ten years older than himself, and sternly questioned him.
"Uncle! It's just a little delay in their wages, it's not like we won't pay them." Fan Taiping said with some displeasure.
