Fu Jinghen looked at her and remained silent.
"Fine," Wen Qiao pouted. "I'll just shut up."
"I know."
"Know what?" Wen Qiao didn't catch on immediately.
Fu Jinghen didn't explain to her and simply said, "Don't worry, you won't be left out in the cold."
"Eh?" Wen Qiao blinked at him. "Could it be you..."
Fu Jinghen smiled. "Just what you're thinking."
Wen Qiao slowly uttered an "Oh," turned her head, and giggled with pursed lips.
He really was a closet tease.
The scene became a bit chaotic for a moment, and the live broadcast even experienced a blackout and silence for two minutes. When the staff finally brought the camera back, the audience saw a scene of the guests lining up to draw funds.
To get back at Wen Qiao, the staff had her go last.
Wen Qiao looked at the staff's bitterly resentful expression, patted the red envelope in her hand, and said, "I think you're secretly pleased. By making me go last, there's bound to be the least amount in here."
