"Xiaofeng, what's his name?" Yang Xiaoqiao asked, looking at Ye Xiong's retreating figure.
"I was about to ask you the same thing," Yang Xiaofeng said, surprised by her question. "Didn't he lend you five hundred thousand? You can't possibly not know his name, can you?"
"Who says you have to know the name of someone who lends you money?" Yang Xiaoqiao huffed.
Yang Xiaofeng was speechless. His sister was really putting on airs.
"Someone lends you money and you don't even bother to ask for their name? Isn't that a bit much?"
"He didn't tell me, so why should I ask?"
"My dear sister, that prideful and condescending nature of yours has driven away every good man," Yang Xiaofeng said irritably.
"He's just a pervert," Yang Xiaoqiao said, completely unconvinced.