Luckily none of his neighbours were taking a walk. He wouldn't be able to explain their bloody clothes, which would end with another bout with the police.
Entering the house, Wang Ming shouted once for Ming Ming and Fu Ya, to check if they were there, since he didn't want to scare them. Getting no answer, Wang Ming grabbed Qiao Meng's hand and pulled her into the house. He felt like a husband sneaking around with a mistress, afraid that Fu Ya would find them.
"Wang Ming, I didn't ask last time, but how much money does your restaurant earn? This has to be worth millions!"
"You've been there, how much do you think my restaurant earns?"
Qiao Meng tried to estimate Wang Ming's earnings, but all restaurants have different profit margins. "I don't know, but if I have to guess with all your customers, maybe a few million yuan a year? But you haven't run your restaurant for long at all, you shouldn't have so much money yet."