Chapter 1

The best way to turn someone down is to agree immediately, then attach an impossible condition.

Economics already has a term for it: a conditional acceptance counts as a refusal to accept.

I learned that lesson early.

When the boy who shared my desk asked me to do his homework, I said, “Sure. Give me your entire treasured collection of Shonen Jump, and I’ll do a week’s worth.”

He backed off at once.

When a relative asked me to tutor her child, I said, “Sure. Given my qualifications, and since your child’s in high school, the going rate is two hundred yuan an hour. Pay for the whole course up front, and I’ll start right away. I’m short of cash, actually. How kind of you to send some business my way!”

She immediately said she’d been joking.

After I entered the entertainment industry, I kept running into shameless people.

At one fan meeting, for instance, a male fan actually stormed onstage to make trouble, accusing me of being aloof, fake, and old.

He said a woman over twenty-five was an expired cake that nobody wanted even at a discount.

He said his family was rich, and he was willing to give me a chance to marry him.

He also said an opportunity like him wouldn’t come around twice, so I should think it over carefully and give him an answer soon.

Still smiling, I cast a chilling glance at my manager beside me.

She shrank into herself.

She knew why I was angry.

I’d never agreed with the sweet, innocent image she’d chosen for me. Everyone else was playing strong, independent heroines, while I was going retro and pretending to be some delicate little flower. Now look: we’d resurrected a bunch of Qing-dynasty relics, and here they were trying to drag me back with them.

After glaring at my manager, I turned calmly back to the man.

“No problem. I’m a very traditional woman. My mother says anyone who marries me has to give me a billion yuan as a betrothal gift. Transfer it into my account, and I’ll go register our marriage with you immediately.”

I’d spoken too fast for my manager to cover my mouth.

The entire room erupted.

Countless phones shot up, eager to record the scene.

The man’s face turned purple.

“A billion… Even if your * was made of gold, it wouldn’t be worth that!”

I smiled.

“I’m a very traditional woman. I listen to my elders. You can’t go wrong with the older generation’s wisdom. My own mother wouldn’t steer me wrong, would she?”

What do you call that?

Fighting magic with magic.

He was furious and humiliated, but there was nothing he could do.

He could only beat a hasty retreat.

And I?

I went viral.

For all the wrong reasons.