"Young Master Yang, you're too kind! This is all my duty. By saying such things, aren't you treating me like a stranger?"
At this moment, hearing Yifeng's words, Chen Shen felt his cheeks twitching with a forced smile. He didn't dare to say too much in front of Yifeng, whose identity was simply too frightening. Seeing Yifeng refuse his goodwill, Chen Shen reached into his chest pocket, and took out a black bank card and a document that looked like a contract. He respectfully said,
"Young Master Yang, this is a Centurion Black Gold Card from Swiss Bank, with two billion yuan in it, drawn from the income of the dogfighting grounds in the southern suburbs. And this document is seventy percent of the shares in the Southern Suburb Dogfighting Grounds. Please take both of these items!"
As he spoke, Chen Shen handed the black card and contract to Yifeng.