In the first year of the Jingtian era, the capital’s most shameless drama queens gathered at the Su family ancestral hall to watch an epic breakup scene. Su Wanyue, dressed in white as pure as snow, had tears in her eyes. She had just recited the classic line, “If I break my vow in this life, may this hairpin meet the same fate as...” when someone precisely shoved a greasy pancake into the hand holding her jade hairpin.
“Give it a rest, miss,” Lin Tianqing said, crouched on the offering table as he took a bite of an identical pancake. “The corner of your eye has twitched three times. You’d look far better if you really cried instead of putting on this act.” As everyone stood frozen, he started providing a live commentary: “Your esteemed father is feeling around in his sleeve for a spare arsenic prop. Your cousin is pinching her thigh to keep from laughing. Hey, Zhao the Chubby, stop sneaking the offerings!”
