```
"Uncle Nie, please just tell us why, and I'll act as the judge to ensure fairness and impartiality," Zong Yi chimed in, always looking to stir up excitement.
"Alright! I feel assured with a judge around," Nie Guangyi lifted his right hand halfway, then rubbed it together with his left hand.
In this season that wasn't cold, the action of rubbing hands seemed somewhat strange.
It was a bit like he wanted to give Zong Yi a pat on the head, but at the last second, he forcibly restrained himself.
Meng Xin Zhi rested her chin on her hands and tilted her head, directing her gaze at Nie Guangyi.
This wasn't her first time seeing Nie Guangyi, but it was the first time she felt curious about him.
Nie Guangyi began to explain his reasons under Meng Xin Zhi's unabashed stare:
"From a long time ago, there has been a saying among the people, 'Rich folks set off fireworks, poor folks spark iron flowers.'
