Ai Xiaolu looked into Wang Zheng's eyes, her heart skipped. "How much money are you short of? Do you want me to lend some to you?"
Wang Zheng laughed. "Thanks for your good intentions, but I think it might not be possible."
"Why not possible? Are you afraid that I can't afford it?" Ai Xiaolu laughed. Wang Zheng had called for life and death matches, and he would at least have earned several hundred thousands of dollars from each of the match. Hence, he would definitely not be bothered by small sums of money.
"Ai Xiaolu's family owns a bank." De Fulei laughed, and added this comment.
"Really?"