Ou Bei Yao lit a cigarette, his handsome face slightly obscured by the smoke. He said in a deep voice:
"He's willing to talk to you. Accompanying him will help with his illness. Name your price."
Qin Miaomiao almost laughed in anger. Another self-righteous man. But, on closer look, he seemed different from those in the underworld—at least he was willing to reason.
"Sir, I don't need money."
She had jewelry worth over a billion in her bag. Even if she sold it off, she could live comfortably for the rest of her life. She could find a young, handsome man and live the life of a wealthy socialite.
Who needs money?
"It seems I'll have to resort to tougher measures."
"What do you mean?"
Ou Bei Yao chuckled, though his smile resembled that of a bandit:
"You have to stay."
"Looks like you want to force me, huh?"
With a calm tone, Ou Bei Yao replied:
"I originally thought to let you set the terms, but since you're unwilling, I'll have to use less conventional methods."
"Ha!"
