Two people who clearly knew each other pretending not to, carrying out a conversation full of twists and reversals—it certainly made for quite the drama.
But something like this was obviously better suited for a theater or a screen. This was not only a little room with no audience, but even the door had been sealed shut.
Considering today's auspicious occasion, Fu Qian could not help suspecting that they had been provoked by witnessing the young master's wedding.
And were using this method to comfort themselves, telling themselves that they were still the protagonists of the world.
It might sound a little immature, but at least it was more plausible than performing for some special audience hundreds of years in the future, wasn't it?
The plot's development was rather surreal, but as an attentive viewer, he still tried to make excuses for the actors.
"Heh... hehehe..."
"Hahaha..."
Unfortunately, the two performers seemed to have forgotten their lines. The reversal came to an abrupt halt, leaving only waves of laughter, as though they were immensely satisfied with their own performance.
Why say they had forgotten their lines instead of assuming it had been arranged that way in the script?
Ending with laughter after a series of reversals, inviting endless speculation and deepening the theme?
That possibility could not be ruled out. If they had laughed for a shorter time, it would even have been perfectly reasonable.
Unfortunately, the two kept it up for well over a minute.
By the latter half, it looked entirely like the director had forgotten to call cut. Their stiff facial muscles and wandering gazes made it seem as though they were checking whether the other person was in the same state.
It was undoubtedly agonizing. Fortunately, after Fu Qian empathized with them for over a minute,