"How much does your Chief Disciple want to borrow?"
Shen Xiuyong picked up his teacup, took a slow sip, and looked at Yu Bao'Er.
Yu Bao'Er blinked, recalling Chen Qing's instructions, and obediently relayed, "The Chief Disciple said… as much as you can lend. The more, the better."
"PFFT—"
Shen Xiuyong nearly spat out a mouthful of tea.
He set down his teacup, shot an irritated glare at Yu Bao'Er, glanced at the letter in his hand, and finally shook his head in resignation. "This kid... He's really got some nerve! 'The more, the better'? Does he think I'm a bank vault?"
Yu Bao'Er kept her head down and said nothing.
Shen Xiuyong finally took out a stack of silver notes, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Twenty thousand taels! Tell your Chief Disciple that this is what Old Shen scraped together by tightening my belt! Tell him to be frugal with it! And remember, have him write me an IOU! In his own hand!"
"Yes! Thank you, Elder Shen! I'll be sure to pass it on!"
