Ten million?
Even someone like Qiao Yizhen, who doesn't really care about money, was startled by Ye Qingfeng's grand gesture—opening his mouth and it's ten million, he really doesn't treat money as money.
"No need. As long as I can learn Chinese medicine from you, I don't need anything else." Qiao Yizhen immediately shook his head. He hadn't come for money; with his status, making money wasn't difficult anyway.
"At my age, I've got enough for myself. As long as I can help Chinese medicine grow and flourish, I'm perfectly satisfied with everything else."
"Alright, let's go."
Ye Qingfeng didn't insist. It was only ten million; whether he took it or not was all the same.
Ye Qingfeng had originally planned to take Qiao Yizhen straight to Yanglong, but at the entrance of a hotel, his Divine Sense picked up Shen Yingluo and Little Yue.
"Shen Yingluo, what are you doing here?"
Ye Qingfeng walked straight over and called out.
"Master?"
