Chapter 7
After that brief interlude, the Finger Folding game officially began.
Qiu Chengye was the first to speak, and he opened with a big flex, “I own fifty buildings. Do any of you?”
[Damn! You can play this game like that?!]
[So filthy rich it hurts, I’m crying.]
Qiu Chengye looked around the room smugly as the others folded down their fingers one by one. His confidence bloomed into a self-assured grin—until he noticed two people hadn’t folded.
Shen Yeqing sighed helplessly, “Mr. Qiu, you’re supposed to take the game seriously. If you sandbag it, there’s no fun. Fifty buildings? Who doesn’t have—”
As he spoke, his gaze swept across the folded fingers of the others. He paused, slightly surprised, and sincerely asked, “You all don’t?”
The others smiled awkward, polite smiles.
Like hell we do.
[Damn, there’s someone even richer here!]
[And this is why Mr. Shen’s fortune remains a mystery.]
[Can’t roast him. This one’s un-roastable.]
[But wait… I get Shen, what’s with Xie Mi though?]
Only then did people notice—Xie Mi’s five fingers were still standing tall, utterly calm.
Someone couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“Pfft—”
Catching the stares, Xiao Jingxi smothered his smile. “Sorry, I just remembered something funny.”
He knew exactly what kind of background Xie Mi had.
Fifty buildings? Who was she fooling?
But Xie Mi wasn’t about to humor him. She raised her middle finger, “Drink horse piss, you’ll be arrogant as hell; mock your dad, and your life’s unpredictable.”
Xiao Jingxi’s smile died instantly. “…?”
“Anyway,” Xie Mi said smoothly, standing up and clearing her throat, “I see you don’t know how to play this game. Let me teach you a lesson.”
Calm and composed, she explained, “Qiu Chengye only said he owned fifty buildings. He never specified whether they were real or virtual.”
“Which means, by default, in any situation where someone has fifty buildings, the statement holds true.”
“In other words—”
“I, Xie Mi, own fifty buildings in Mole Manor! And that counts!”
She puffed up her chest, speaking with the passion of someone delivering an inspiring rallying cry.
Everyone: stunned.
Wait… the game could be played like that??
Shen Yeqing started clapping. “Good!”
With someone as influential as Shen clapping, the others had no choice but to join in.
They didn’t really understand, but she sounded badass.
Forget it, better clap—otherwise they’d look dumb.
[Holy crap, this works??]
[Honestly… she’s not wrong. That is how this game works.]
[I don’t care! Didn’t that bitch just insult Movie Emperor Xiao?? Die, Xie bitch, die!!]
Next up was Liu Woxing.
“I’m not very good at this game, so I’ll just say something random.” She thought for a moment. “I know a lot of people’s scandals. Does that count?”
As the daughter of Star Entertainment Media, her words carried some weight.
“Prove it,” Xie Mi egged her on.
Liu Woxing laughed bashfully. “Can’t say it on stream.”
If she dropped one casually, Weibo would explode.
“So how do we define this then? What’s the condition for not folding a finger?” Xu Shuangrong asked.
“Hmm… how about this: anyone who doesn’t fold has to reveal three scandals, meeting two conditions. One: the subject must be someone we all know. Two: it must be something nobody else knows.”
At that, the others silently folded down their fingers.
Meeting both conditions wasn’t easy.
If it had to be someone everyone knew, that meant public figures in entertainment. And if it was something unknown—that meant live, on-the-spot exposés.
Who would dare blurt something like that?
Xie Mi would.
Her five fingers stood tall, her expression as resolute as someone about to join the Party.
[She’s really not folding?? How badly does she want to win??]
[All this just to impress Movie Emperor Xiao—she’ll stoop to anything.]
[As if she could actually name one. I wanna see what crap she makes up.]
“This…” Even Liu Woxing was thrown. “Then go ahead, say it.”
“Am I allowed?” Xie Mi looked toward Director Niu off-camera.
He was surprised at her sudden sense of propriety. But as a director, of course he wanted the show to be as explosive as possible. He nodded eagerly.
“Of course! Say whatever you want!”
“Then I’ll say one about Director Niu,” Xie Mi declared.
Director Niu: “??”
“Director Niu doesn’t like eating vegetables, gets constipated, and once couldn’t poop, so he panicked in the bathroom, slapping himself like crazy.”
Director Niu went pale with shock, lunging to cover her mouth. But Xie Mi vaulted over the sofa like a hurdler, spewing more madness.
“Here’s one about the assistant director.”
The assistant director, who’d been stifling laughter a second ago, froze. Then he let out a screech and joined the chase.
But he couldn’t catch her.
“His first romance was an online one. Except his online partner was Director Niu cross-dressing. When they met in person, they fought. Got arrested. And kept fighting in the detention center.”
The assistant director let out an unholy shriek.
The staff on set couldn’t hold it anymore—stifled laughter leaked out.
The guests in front of the camera, trying to protect their image, forced themselves to think of the saddest moments in their lives to keep from laughing.
Except Shen Yeqing, who was already laughing so hard he fell over.
“And one last one…” Xie Mi hesitated, as if struggling to come up with someone. Her gaze drifted to the other staff.
All the staff stiffened, dropping to their knees and rubbing their hands desperately at her like buzzing flies.
No one even wondered how she knew all this dirt.
At that moment, they all had only one thought—stay alive!
Xie Mi sighed, too softhearted to go on.
“Fine. I’ll do one about Qiu Chengye.”
Qiu Chengye shot to his feet, instantly tense. But then he realized—they weren’t close. What dirt could she possibly know about him?
So he sat back down.
“Don’t be fooled by how normal he looks. In reality, Qiu Chengye does not—”
Bzzz—!!
With a ringing buzz in his head, time seemed to slow down by dozens of times.
As everything around him moved in slow motion, Qiu Chengye’s eyes flashed green. His butt sprang up from the chair, limbs pumping wildly as he exploded with shocking speed.
[Holy crap, what just shot across the screen?!]
[WTF, is that a mutant titan?!]
Netizens nearly fainted in fright.
Bang!
Just before he could clamp a hand over Xie Mi’s mouth, his legs tangled—he tripped and faceplanted.
The culprit: Shen Yeqing, who leaned lazily on the sofa, chin propped in one hand, gazing innocently at him.
“Mr. Qiu, going to sleep this early?”
Normally volatile, Qiu Chengye—for once—didn’t explode. Trembling, he reached out and grabbed the hem of Xie Mi’s pants.
“Please… don’t say it.”
Xie Mi gave him an unreadable smile, swallowing down the final word “exhibitionist.”
“I can’t grant your wish. But a father can grant his son’s wish.”
Qiu Chengye froze, then, hollow-eyed, shut his eyes, “Daddy!”
Xie Mi lit up with excitement, “I’m here!!”
