"Xu Ziqing, this lunatic, evidently has a death wish, but you are different; you're only after money. How much do you want? I can give it to you. Why risk your neck with Xu Ziqing and end up in jail?"
Despite Zhou Ting's usual bluster, when trouble struck, she was more cowardly than anyone, indecisive as a blade of grass wavering on a wall. Now, after hearing Ye Che's words, her eyelids drooped slightly, betraying a hint of wavering.
Ye Che's gaze remained fixed on Zhou Ting's face, and seeing that she seemed about to be persuaded by him, he took out a check from his pocket and continued.
"Just name the amount—how much do you want? One hundred million? Two hundred million? How about this, I'll give you five hundred million? I'll also send you abroad. With this money, you can spend the rest of your life comfortably overseas. What do you say?"
Zhou Ting saw that Ye Che actually wrote something on the check and then tossed it to the ground.
