Because Qiao An was short on cash, Mu Zimo had given her his debit card. For a while now, most of his expenses had been covered by a slush fund from his various investments.
But now he was completely broke and had no choice but to ask Qiao An for money. The feeling, however, was strangely pleasant, and he couldn't help but let the corners of his lips curl up in a good mood.
Xie Shan, who had gotten up to pour some water, noticed Mu Zimo's love-struck expression. He instinctively glanced at the chat log and saw that Qiao An had generously transferred eight hundred yuan to Mu Zimo. He instantly flipped out.
"Damn! Are you two starting something behind everyone's backs? Otherwise, why would a total cheapskate like Qiao An give you money?"
Everyone knew what Qiao An was like—the type of person who'd squeeze blood from a stone. When she was out, she saved every penny she could. If she couldn't hitch a ride, she'd rather walk home.
