The large banking hall had several separate cubicles, and the teller counters were all designated with numbers.
The waiting seats were situated close to the floor-to-ceiling window, and the number of customers in the banking hall was neither too many nor too few.
Old Ye stood there for some time while ransacking the former Old Ye's memories, but to his dismay, the former Old Ye hardly went into the banking hall.
Taking a step forward, he walked towards one of the counter tellers and spoke to the cashier on the seat.
"I want to check my account balance," Old Ye said the moment he got close.
"Good day, sir; you will have to go to the customer care department," responded the cashier professionally.
Old Ye's eyebrows knitted in a frown. Retracting his gaze, he looked around. Seeing Old Ye's reaction, the cashier added, "Over there is the customer service department."
Old Ye thanked the cashier and strode towards the customer service area; that is when the Wilson family's young master walked in.
The moment Philip Wilson saw Old Ye, he followed him to the customer area.
"I want to check my account balance," Old Ye said, standing before the customer service agent, who wasn't attending to any customers.
"Wearing a fake suit, and you still have the guts to check your account balance in the bank; instead of doing it at the ATM, ain't you afraid to embarrass yourself?" Philip Wilson mocked.
He was still seething in rage over Old Ye's words during their confrontation at the gate; naturally, he had to seize the opportunity when presented.
Philip Wilson's words attracted attention to both of them; his voice wasn't too loud, loud enough to get many people's attention.
"Little kid, when is it your turn to have an opinion on what this Lord wants to do? Go and play in the corner; I don't have the time now." Old Ye retorted dismissively; he looked like someone chasing a stubborn fly with the way he waved his hand.
A bout of laughter went off immediately; Philip Wilson didn't know who started laughing first.
He roared in rage. "Shut up! If you don't want me to kick you out of this bank, stop laughing immediately."
The noisy banking hall quietened immediately.
"Sir, your account balance is eighty cents," the customer service agent announced loudly.
An awkward silence descended in the banking hall. A few seconds passed before the laughter began again.
Philip Wilson laughed so hard that he was already tearing up and rubbing his stomach.
Old Ye frowned. He didn't expect the former Old Ye to be so poor that his account balance wasn't even up to a dollar.
"Issue me another card," Old Ye requested. He wore an expressionless face like he wasn't the one that everyone was laughing at in the banking hall.
"Punk, forget about getting another bank card; go home and make money. No one is going to issue you a new bank card; whoever dares will become the enemies of the Wilson family," Philip Wilson announced loudly.
All the customer service agents looked at one another.
Old Ye didn't take Philip Wilson's words seriously; in his eyes, he was just a clown seeking attention.
"Issue me a new card," Old Ye repeated, looking very impatient.
"Dear customer, your account balance isn't sufficient for you to be issued a bank card unless you deposit two hundred thousand dollars," the customer service agent responded professionally.
Philip Wilson burst into laughter. He was so satisfied with the customer care agent's attitude that he commented, "Good, good, you did well. This punk doesn't even look like someone who could deposit two thousand dollars inside his bank account."
Old Ye turned around and glared at Philip Wilson, shocking him. He instinctively panicked with a pale face. "What do you want to do?" he stuttered, unsettled by the feeling of dread that assaulted him.
"This Lord doesn't have a good temper; those who provoke me don't end well. If you keep pushing your luck, don't blame this Lord for taking action." Old Ye said in a deep voice without concealing the murderous intent in his eyes.
Philip Wilson felt a chill down his spine. Taking a step back in fear, his face was pale like a sheet.
Retracting his gaze, Old Ye looked at the customer service agent and ordered coldly, "Issue me another card."
"Yes, sir," the customer service agent responded immediately.
The aura of sovereignty exuding from Old Ye deterred him from doing according to his will.
Philip Wilson stood looking at Old Ye in shock; he didn't know the reason he felt like he was being pointed a gun at when Old Ye talked to him a minute ago.
Narrowing his eyes, he looked at Old Ye suspiciously. As the young master of the Wilson, he has naturally come into contact with the underground bosses and has had contact with pugilistic experts, but he has never seen someone who has an overbearing aura like Old Ye.
A few minutes later, Old Ye received his new bank card. Turning around, he wanted to leave when he remembered the bank card Old Wilson gave him.
Pulling out a black card from his pocket, Old Ye looked at the customer service agent and asked, "How does this work? I wasn't given the pin to it; help me check the balance and withdraw some money if there is any inside."
Although Old Wilson appeared rich, Old Ye isn't someone who trusts anybody.
When Philip Wilson saw the bank card Old Ye pulled out, his eyes widened in shock before his face darkened when he recognised the black card.
In a rage, he charged forward and demanded angrily for an explanation: "Thief, where did you get that bank card from? How did you rob the bank card?"
Philip Wilson will never imagine, even in his wildest imagination, that the black card he has been coveting for years was given to Old Ye by his uncle.
Old Ye glared at Philip Wilson, charging forward with great momentum before sneering, "Little kid, I have been tolerating your stupidity; you will think this Lord is Buddha if I don't make you experience a little suffering."