Miles chuckled, entirely unoffended.
"You don't get it. If you lack the skills, make up for it with a pretty face."
Beatrice's anxiety remained high. She knew perfectly well that Lillian was strictly professional when it came to business.
The executives accompanying Lillian from Lillionix were top-tier professionals. Lillian would never jeopardize her company's interests for the sake of nostalgia.
If she were the type to let sentimentality dictate corporate strategy, she wouldn't command such unwavering loyalty from her elite team.
That was exactly why Beatrice was so nervous.
Even though they had followed all the procedures, pouring massive amounts of capital and effort into building this factory...
The equipment, the technology, the labor force—everything was state-of-the-art.
Yet she feared that Lillian's strict impartiality might cost them this golden ticket to ride Li's coattails and re-establish their dominance in Northwyn.
While Beatrice fretted, Miles remained as carefree as ever.
"Who says your brother lacks skills? He's poured his heart and soul into this project.
You foolish boy, try saying something encouraging for once instead of jinxing us."
Miles shrugged. "If my brother were really that capable, our family wouldn't have had to flee the country only to crawl back..."
"That is enough!" Beatrice snapped, cutting him off instantly. "You've said plenty for one day."
Seeing his grandmother genuinely angry, Miles finally clamped his mouth shut.
Inside the factory, Tristan led the Lillionix team through the facility.
Celia, an absolute expert in the field, scrutinized everything meticulously. Even she was impressed by the sheer scale of the investment; the machinery was top-of-the-line.



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