Then, without turning his head, he walked towards the entrance, clearly in a huff.
"Hey." Qing Yi stepped forward and grabbed him.
"What?" The drunkard shook off his hand irritably.
"Here." Qing Yi held out a bank card in front of him.
The drunkard glanced at it and said, "I'm in a bad mood; I don't want your consultation fee."
Just being capricious.
"It's not from Third Young Master, it's mine."
"Yours?" The drunkard looked at Qing Yi somewhat oddly: "Your card, why give it to me?"
"Aren't you out of drinking money?"
The drunkard looked down, staring at the card in front of him for a few seconds, then tentatively reached out to take it:
"Really giving it to me?"
Qing Yi was speechless. The card was already in hand, and he still asked.
"The passcode is the last six digits of my phone number."
Upon hearing this, the drunkard immediately chuckled, patted Qing Yi on the arm, all brotherly:
