Milson crossed his arms and tilted his head towards shan yifeng, his voice calm yet there was a hint of smugness in his tone.
"From the fifty thousand taels, twenty-five thousand goes to taxes, right? And you promised me twenty-five thousand. So technically that means…" he tapped the ring lightly with a grin, "this entire fortune inside the ring belongs to me."
Shan yifeng's eyes bulged. "H-Huh… W-Wh… WHAT?! Can't we just, you know, skip the taxes?!"
Milson gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "Oh my heavens! I'm the Duke's only son! How dare you suggest tax evasion in front of such a noble, law-abiding citizen!"
Shan Yifeng slowly turned his head and stared. That cold, deadpan, unimpressed stare.
Milson held it for two seconds before dropping the act with a sheepish chuckle. "Fine, fine. You win."
He held out the ring. "Here, take it. You earned it. I don't really want gambling money."
