He stared at the silver butterfly hairpin in Yu Haitang's hair, which trembled slightly in the ethereal breeze. He didn't even notice a spark from the charcoal brazier land on his cuff, his voice a mix of three parts reproach and seven parts helplessness:
"What kind of foolish talk is that, Haitang?"
His fingertips unconsciously rubbed against the chipped rim of his coarse porcelain cup.
Chapter 751