"Do you think I'm running a bank?"
Yang Xiaoxi was nearly choked with anger, and both Cheng Feiyang and Lu Siyuan looked at Zhu Yun's thick-skinned audacity with newfound respect.
It was rare to see someone with such a thick hide.
"Xiaoxi, I know you have money. Although you're not a banker, you do keep your money in the bank. If you really consider me your cousin, lend me twenty thousand yuan, I'll write you an IOU right now." Zhu Yun was almost desperate to fetch paper and pen on the spot.
Yang Xiaoxi glared, "No, I don't have money. If you want to borrow money, go ask your maternal family or let your husband borrow from his relatives. Anyway, I don't have any, and I won't lend you a penny in the future. Don't even think about borrowing from me ever again, I'm broke."
Yang Xiaoxi had long since decided not to lend Zhu Yun any money.
