The robotic voice slowly announced, "Esteemed Mr. Zhao Dong, the balance in your card ending in 8067 is three hundred forty-two million, three hundred twenty thousand yuan."
The clear announcement resonated throughout the hotel.
At that moment, the entire lobby fell dead silent. Even the surrounding diners seemed to freeze in place, and a crowd stared dumbfounded in their direction.
At the table, Wu Haibo and Wang Ziyue were frozen solid, their faces masks of utter shock. The others stared intently at Zhao Dong, not daring to breathe, their expressions changing in an instant.
Beside him, Song Qingwan trembled. She looked at Zhao Dong, her voice quivering, "Zhao Dong, I… did I hear that right? You… you have that much money in your account?"
Zhao Dong gave a faint smile. "It's not that much. It's decent, I suppose."
At his words, Wu Haibo and Wang Ziyue collapsed to the floor with a thud. Their breathing hitched as their vision swam and turned dark.
