Yan Yanrong was momentarily shocked, but her expression quickly turned to disdain. "Chu Qingshuang, there's a limit to joking. A quarter of the richest man's wealth? Who would believe that?"
Chu Qingshuang spread her hands that were covered in mud and pretended not to care. "It's up to you whether you believe it or not. Anyway, the truth won't change because of your disbelief."
Yan Yanrong, seeing Chu Qingshuang's reaction, couldn't quite gauge the truthfulness of her words. Staring at her for a while, she gritted her teeth and said, "Then we'll see in the capital!"
Chu Qingshuang, who was shaping a porcelain, replied, "I think it's better not to meet. We're not close, after all."
This angered Yan Yanrong again. "You…"
"Yan Yanrong, you're no longer part of the porcelain workshop. It's better if you don't come here anymore; you really disrupt my work," Chu Qingshuang said, full of disdain.
