The Day My Engagement Was Broken, I Found a Fallen Mountain God

I transmigrated into the body of a fallen official’s daughter, only to be publicly dumped by my wealthy fiancé.

So I set up a pancake stall on a corner of Chang’an Street.

When my modern snacks had the whole street drooling,

there was always a white-robed gentleman, fair as snow, crouched on a rooftop watching me.

Until he handed me a peony edged in gold:

“Dearest, could I pay your betrothal gifts in installments over the next three hundred years?”

It wasn’t until the powerful came and smashed my stall that I learned the truth:

my debtor was a mountain god who had slept for a thousand years.

And my pancake griddle had rung the bell that woke him to the world.