Song Ci felt that sooner or later, she would meet an untimely demise, and sure enough, time-traveling to the Great Qing dynasty while auditioning was a major signal.
Now?
Her so-called beloved youngest son was clutching her tightly, wailing loudly, making her feel even closer to that fateful day of early demise.
Song Ci wanted to lift a hand or say something like "Don't press me so hard, or I'll fall to pieces," but she really was about to roll her eyes.
Yet all that came from her throat was the wheezy sound of an old ox, unable to utter a single word.
If that wasn't enough, in a rush of anxiety, she lost control of her internal organs, resulting in an accident...
Song Ci closed her eyes. Fine, maybe an early demise was preferable.
Everyone caught a faint whiff of urine, and their expressions varied.
