"Xiao Ye, thank you."
In the security office, Zhang Huimin sat on the sofa, her hands on her knees, lips tightly pressed together.
"There's nothing to thank me for." Ye Huan chuckled and said, "Your older brother owed Wang Biao three hundred thousand. I helped him pay it off and warned them not to bother you again."
Zhang Huimin nodded with gratitude.
The residents of Golden Sand Street were terribly afraid of Wang Biao, illustrating how ruthless he could be.
Zhang Dagou owed him three hundred thousand and had not repaid it for a long time. If he couldn't borrow more money, the outcome would definitely be miserable, and even his mother, Zhou Cuihua, would be implicated, perhaps driven to death by him.
Zhang Huimin saw through and utterly resented this family, and had already stopped considering them as family. However, blood is thicker than water, and the bond of blood cannot be erased.
