Uncle Han spoke so earnestly that Yang Fan really didn't know what excuse to use to refuse him.
Their friendship was pretty good, and the man had spoken so sincerely and openly.
"Okay, just call me early, Uncle Han," Yang Fan said.
"Don't worry about anything else; I'll cover all your losses tomorrow, based on your highest-earning day," Uncle Han said.
Yang Fan chuckled; if it was based on that standard, Old Han would probably feel even more heartache.
His highest-earning day was nearly two hundred thousand.
"Don't worry about that now, we'll talk about it later," Yang Fan waved his hand, "I'm going to leave now, but remember to call me early tomorrow, I'll come and play detective for you."
"Okay, sure."
Uncle Han was frantically searching through his own clothes before suddenly rushing to a nearby shop, "Xiao Yang, just wait for me."
Seeing him like this, Yang Fan was sure he was off to buy something.
He didn't pay it any mind and left the barbecue stall directly.