"So, how do we make money?"
Qin Hao swiftly moved to the side and snatched the sausage that Zhao Mengke had just unwrapped.
Seeing Zhao Mengke instantly fume and reach to grab it back, Qin Hao quickly took a bite, asserting ownership over the sausage, which made Zhao Mengke grit his teeth and give up. Qin Hao successfully won this round.
Zhao Mengke snorted and said, "Qin Hao, you're competing with Xu Zhiyuan today, right? I found a great business opportunity; it's like underground boxing, betting on who will win! I'll set up the bets, and we'll rake in a lot of money from the audience!"
When Zhao Mengke talked about money, he was full of enthusiasm, and his big eyes almost lit up with dollar signs.
"Tell me more." Qin Hao, not minding playing along with this money-grubber, asked.
"I thought about it. Not many people would bet on you. Once it starts, you show a disadvantage. That's when I coax them into betting. When we've filled our pockets, you make a comeback. How about it?"
