"Clap!"
The passersby on the street were shocked. Many of them stopped and looked over.
At a table by the window, a blue-robed man of medium height raised his hand and slapped a round-faced woman in her early thirties.
"Madam Sun," the blue-robed man reprimanded the round-faced woman with disgust, "are you deliberately trying to burn Wu Niang's hand?!"
On the table, a white porcelain teacup toppled over, spilling the tea.
"I didn't…" A red palm print appeared on Madam Sun's left cheek. The wooden hairpin on her bun was askew, and a few strands of hair were scattered messily on her cheek. Her eyes were filled with tears.
Beside the blue-robed man, a charming young woman with an oval face covered her stomach with one hand. Her beautiful face turned pale as she cried out, "Aiya, husband, I feel a little pain in my stomach."
