Chapter 70: Losing Face All the Way to Grandma’s House
Chi Qian sprinted after him.
“Uncle, why are you running?!”
“Don’t ask why, just stop chasing me—I didn’t bring cough syrup!!”
“No way! Stop right there!”
“Never!!”
The two of them turned the deck into a stage for high-level performance art: the eternal chase.
“Ow!” Chi Qian smacked into the railing, nearly falling off.
Chi Fengxiao’s expression instantly changed; he rushed back and grabbed her.
Chi Qian used the chance to leap onto his back, laughing triumphantly. “Hahaha! Caught you!”
Chi Fengxiao was half exasperated, half amused. “So you’re the type to abuse your uncle’s tiny bit of compassion, huh?”
“Uncle, this is called all’s fair in war. I win!”
“You think catching me counts as winning?”
Chi Qian patted his pocket and, sure enough, found the golden identity card.
Chi Fengxiao poked her forehead. “So you really rifled through every guest’s pockets before figuring out it was me?”
“Nope, I already knew.” Chi Qian grinned. “The sun, music, poetry, prophecy, and medicine—plus the silver bow and arrows—those traits point straight to Apollo in Greek mythology.”
Chi Fengxiao raised a brow. “You made that connection?”
Chi Qian: “I didn’t at first, but Shen Jiashu’s hint said the prey symbolized harvest.”
“Apollo’s the most handsome god in Greek myth, so clearly that meant you. The goddess of harvest is Demeter—she makes crops flourish or wither.”
“She can bring people wealth, but she can also leave them with nothing.”
“Obviously, that’s referring to me and my treasure chest of skills.”
Forget about the distant examples—hadn’t she just bankrupted a crew of pirates yesterday?
Chi Fengxiao was speechless for a long time, then grabbed her head and scolded, “Your brain actually works just fine—so why don’t you use it more often?”
Chi Qian: “My brain’s like new—ninety percent unused, flawless and pristine.”
[Link it immediately! I want to buy!]
[Of course it ties back to Greek mythology! No wonder there were Greek buildings on the mission card. Who could’ve guessed that without eight hundred IQ points?]
[My baby isn’t brainless, she just doesn’t like using her brain!]
The two left the deck, and Chi Fengxiao asked, “Why haven’t we seen the others?”
“I caught them all already,” Chi Qian said brightly. “But we’ll talk about that later. Our hunt has only just begun.”
“???”
Something about her expression made Chi Fengxiao feel like someone was about to be very unlucky.
Who could it be?
The production crew, too, were confused by Chi Qian’s words. They were just about to declare the game over—Only to find Chi Qian and Chi Fengxiao had both vanished from the surveillance feed.
Then, a knock came at the control room door.
When they opened it, Chi Qian was standing there, smiling innocently at a room full of staff.
“Good evening, my prey.”
Production crew: !!!
Half an hour later.
On the cruise ship’s deck, several staff members were strung up along the mast, swaying in the sea breeze.
Chi Qian sat cross-legged below, hugging half a watermelon and scooping it out with a ladle meant for soup.
Between bites, she nodded. “This melon’s not bad. Good buy, huh? Want some?”
Then she smacked her forehead in mock regret. “Oh right—you can’t eat melon right now. Guess you’ll just have to watch me.”
The chief director, tied at the very top, had tears dried to his face from the ocean wind.
The staff begged for mercy, “Chi Qian, Miss Chi, please, have mercy! Let us down!”
“We were only following the director’s orders—we never meant to disturb your sleep!”
“It was just about breakfast! Whatever you want, the chef will cook as much as you like. Just put us down!”
Chi Qian: “What, where’s all that fighting spirit you had just now?”
Staff: “……”
Right. They had resisted—twenty people, yet they couldn’t even get close to a single little girl and had been taken out instead.
Shameful beyond words.
“Chi Qian, Qian Qian, what will it take for you to let us go?” the director asked with forced cheer.
Chi Qian thought for a moment. “Tch. Waking me up in the middle of the night and making me run around—I’m starving.”
Director: “I’ll wake the chef immediately to cook you a midnight feast! Plus a table full of desserts!”
“And tomorrow’s breakfast…”
“Whatever you want, just name it!”
Chi Qian narrowed her eyes. “For me alone, or do the others get it too?”
The director shivered but plastered on a smile. “Just you. All for you.”
“Fine. Since I’m such a kind person, I’ll let you off.”
Director: “……” More like because I’ve already given up my dignity and half my pride!
Chi Qian freed them. “I expect my midnight snack within half an hour.”
“Right away, right away,” the director muttered bitterly as he left with his staff.
[HAHA! About time the crew got humbled!]
[Twenty-something adults, beaten by one little girl. Pathetic! If it were me, I swear I’d beg her to spare my life after just one slap.]
[Sister Qian really is this program’s natural enemy.]
[They just got a bit of sea breeze, but she had to starve the whole night!]
The barrage of comments flooded in, drowning out the few trolls complaining about her stringing people up.
By the time the other guests returned to the dining room, Chi Qian was already eating.
They had no choice but to sit there watching her, all while facing their own punishment for losing the game—A special “bitter melon–ghost pepper juice” concoction.
The dark red liquid in the glasses radiated a sinister aura, turning everyone pale.
“Director… do we actually have to drink this?” Luo Fan gulped nervously.
The chief director gave a cold nod. “Serves you right for failing to deal with a—”
Catching Chi Qian’s gaze, he quickly corrected himself, “—a sweet, innocent little girl.”
“Come on, everyone take a glass.”
Luo Fan reluctantly picked one up. The smell alone nearly made him gag.
The others’ hands shook as they reached for their cups.
Chi Fengxiao: “Qian Qian, your uncle only lost because of you. You can’t just watch me die like this.”
Chi Qian blinked innocently. “Don’t be afraid, Uncle. Be bold and drink. My heart is with you!”
Chi Fengxiao: “……” Why not lend me your mouth and drink it for me?!
“Ahhhh!!”
A shriek rang out.
Luo Fan, after downing a sip, twisted his face into a grimace, turned purple like he’d been poisoned, and collapsed to the floor.
Foam bubbled from his lips as he passed out cold.
Everyone else: ?
Everyone else: WTF?!
One sip and he looked dead!
But the director urged, “Don’t just stand there. The sooner you drink, the sooner it’s over.”
Everyone: Easy for you to say—why don’t you drink it?!
Ling Qian frowned and told Gu Hua, “Hua-hua, don’t drink it. I’ll finish mine and take yours too.”
Gu Hua looked touched. “Thank you, Brother Qian, you’re the best!”
