Amidst the jeers of the crowd, He Xiao's face filled with bitterness.
Fifty million!
What does that even mean?
"Brother Dong, I know you're worried about me," she said bitterly, "but fifty million is no small sum. Please, don't joke about this."
In her eyes, Zhao Dong was just puffing out his chest because he was afraid she would be humiliated.
Just then, Qiu Jia's sarcastic voice cut in.
"Well, well, kid. I hadn't even started with you, and here you are, jumping out on your own."
"Fifty million? Who do you think you are? Your whole outfit isn't worth more than five hundred, and you dare to run your mouth here?"
WHOOSH!
Zhao Dong's expression turned grim in an instant. His piercing, tiger-like gaze fixed on Qiu Jia. "Say that again if you dare," he said coldly.
"Heh, so what if I say it ten more times?"
Swaying her hips, Qiu Jia pointed a mocking finger at Zhao Dong's face. "Listen up, kid. In my eyes, you're just trash!"
"Trash, understand?!"
