Master of the Occult

The real heiress makes a bold entrance, while I, the fake heiress, enjoy the feast and watch the show.

Who knew I'd be the star of this performance?

She walks past me, pretends to stumble, and looks at me with wounded eyes.

"Sister, I really didn't come here to replace you."

The king crab in my hand gets knocked onto the table.

I'm the closed-door disciple of a great metaphysics master. Surely I know how to appreciate tea?