Dewey felt a prickle of interest at his words.
That guy Zhou Ming might be a pain to deal with, especially for people outside his social class—he tended to treat them like dogs—but he really had a knack for making money.
It was mainly because he'd been born with a silver spoon in his mouth; his parents were incredibly wealthy and influential.
So no matter how extravagantly he spent, the money flowing out was never more than what his family was raking in.
Even though he'd dropped millions on road bikes, turning his home into a veritable museum, that amount was just a drop in the bucket compared to his family's fortune.
And if Zhou Ming said he would help him make money, he really would. Dewey had no doubt about that.
After all, while his bike shop made some money, its potential was limited. It would never become a huge business.
For example, if he wanted to open another branch in Hangcheng, his current resources wouldn't be nearly enough.
