"Is that really true?" Although he was wearing a mask, the boy's pupils dilated in surprise for an instant, several times their normal size.
"Of course it's true. If you don't believe me, I'll transfer the money right now," Zhang Menglong said.
"Deal!" The boy immediately took out his phone and opened his payment code.
"Ding, your account has received 100,000 yuan!" As the clear electronic tone sounded, the boy's hands began to tremble. It was actually true—the 100,000 yuan had really appeared in his account.
"I just remembered that I have something to do this afternoon. I'll give you my spot; I've got to go," the boy hurriedly stuffed the number tag into Zhang Menglong's hand. Entry to the art exhibition would be according to the sequence on the number tags.
It was as if he feared that Zhang Menglong had made such a move on an impulse, and if he came to his senses and wanted the money back, then it would have been all for nothing.
