At some point, we’ve all come across someone who seems to think life is a soap opera—and they’re the star: Every breakup, minor setback, and work spat calls for drama and despair.

Fortunately, there’s a handy to stop them from chewing the scenery too much. Next time your friend has an emotional outburst, try asking:

Why are you suddenly so Qiong Yao?

Nǐ zěnme túrán Qióng Yáo qǐlái le?

你怎么突然琼瑶起来了？

Known as the “Godmother of Romance,” Taiwanese author Qiong Yao (Chiung Yao) is not just one of the bestselling romance writers of all time; she’s also a cultural phenomenon. Born in 1938, Qiong Yao, whose real name is Chen Zhe, published her first novel at 25 and has produced over 60 works since, most famously Princess Pearl, the basis of the hit 1998 TV series. In 2018, the series was rebroadcast by Hunan TV and, even 20 years after its premiere, once again became daytime TV’s top-rated show, as viewers relished the nostalgia of Qiong Yao hallmarks—melodramatic plots, love triangles, and most importantly, sappy dialogue.

The Barbara Cartland of Asia’s personal style is so familiar that the author’s penname, meaning “precious jade,” has become a byword for sentimentality. Thanks to mass media, dialogue from Qiong Yao’s works have become widely spread and parodied online as “Qiong Yao-style lines.” Take the following scene from Princess Pearl, in which the lovers Fu Erkang and Xia Ziwei share honeyed words:

Ziwei: I’m begging you, could you please stop being so dashing?

Wǒ qiúqiu nǐ, búyào zhème shuàiqì hǎo ma?

我求求你，不要这么帅气好吗？

Erkang: I’m begging you too, could you please stop being so sweet?

Wǒ yě qiúqiu nǐ, búyào zhème wēnróu hǎo ma?

我也求求你，不要这么温柔好吗？

In most real-life romance, overhearing such a conversation would make one’s flesh crawl; but between friends, this exchange can be sarcastically used to express a false depth of gratitude for some routine favor:

A: Here, I picked up your package for you.

Nǐ de kuàidì, wǒ bāng nǐ lǐng le.

你的快递，我帮你领了。

B: I’m begging you, could you please stop being so nice to me?

Wǒ qiúqiu nǐ, búyào duì wǒ zhème hǎo xíng ma?

我求求你，不要对我这么好行吗？

Of course, romance is not only about sweet words. Even (or especially) the closest couples quarrel occasionally. When this happens, take note of the clever way that Ziwei deals with a jealous outburst from Erkang:

Z: You’re overreacting!

Nǐ hǎo guòfèn o!

你好过分哦！

Z [shyly]: But I like your overreaction very much.

Dàn wǒ hǎo xǐhuan nǐ de guòfèn.

但我好喜欢你的过分。

Another mushy Qiong Yao hit is Romance in the Rain, the 2001 TV adaptation of which starred the same principals as Princess Pearl. In one of its most well-known scenes, heroine Lu Yiping reunites with the hero, He Shuhuan at the railway station when the latter returns from war. Now, even if just meeting a friend for a movie, there’s no reason why you must stick with a conventional greeting—instead, like Yiping, why not shout from a distance?

Shuhuan, don’t come to me! Let me fly to you!

Shūhuán, nǐ búyào guòlái, ràng wǒ fēibēn guòqù!

书桓，你不要过来，让我飞奔过去！

Besides dramatic reunions, Yiping and Shuhuan are known for their many verbal clashes in the course of their (probably emotionally abusive) amour fou. When the two decide to point fingers at each other, they show no mercy:

S: You’re heartless, you’re cruel, you’re unreasonable.

Nǐ wúqíng, nǐ cánkù, nǐ wúlǐ qǔnào.

你无情，你残酷，你无理取闹。

Y: Are you not also heartless, cruel, and unreasonable?

Nà nǐ jiù bù wúqíng? Bù cánkù? Bù wúlǐ qǔnào?

那你就不无情？不残酷？不无理取闹？

S: How am I heartless? How am I cruel? How am I unreasonable?

Wǒ nǎli wúqíng? Nǎli cánkù? Nǎli wúlǐ qǔnào?

我哪里无情？哪里残酷？哪里无理取闹？

Y: How aren’t you heartless? How aren’t you cruel? How aren’t you unreasonable?

Nǐ nǎli bù wúqíng? Nǎli bù cánkù? Nǎli bù wúlǐ qǔnào?

你哪里不无情？哪里不残酷？哪里不无理取闹？

OK, enough: The debate goes on for another half-page, but luckily, the exchange is so iconic that, as long as you include the three key phrases, most people will immediately get the reference:

A: I am sorry, but I have to take a rain check on our dinner.

Duìbuqǐ, wǒmen chīfàn zhǐnéng gǎitiān le.

对不起，我们吃饭只能改天了。

B: You are heartless, you are cruel, you are unreasonable.

Nǐ wúqíng, nǐ cánkù, nǐ wúlǐ qǔnào.

你无情，你残酷，你无理取闹。

It seems that writing quarrels is Qiong Yao’s secret to inflating her page count. In Princess Pearl, Ziwei and Erkang also have a long, repetitive fight.

Z: She says you went to see the snow and the stars and the moon together, and talked [about things] from poetry to song to philosophy.

Tā shuō nǐmen yìqǐ kàn xuě kàn xīngxing kàn yuèliang, cóng shīcí gēfù tán dào rénshēng zhéxué.

她说你们一起看雪看星星看月亮，从诗词歌赋谈到人生哲学。

Z: But I’ve never seen the snow and the stars and the moon with you, nor talked from poetry to song to philosophy.

Wǒ dū méiyǒu hé nǐ yìqǐ kàn xuě kàn xīngxing kàn yuèliang, cóng shīcí gēfù tán dào rénshēng zhéxué.

我都没有和你一起看雪看星星看月亮，从诗词歌赋谈到人生哲学。

E: It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have gone to see the snow and the stars and the moon with her, nor talk from poetry to song to philosophy.

Dōushì wǒ de cuò, wǒ bùgāi hé tā yìqǐ kàn xuě kàn xīngxing kàn yuèliang, cóng shīcí gēfù tán dào rénshēng zhéxué.

都是我的错，我不该和她一起看雪看星星看月亮，从诗词歌赋谈到人生哲学。

E: I promise, from now on, I will only see the snow and the stars and the moon, and talk from poetry to song to philosophy with you.

Wǒ dāying nǐ jīnhòu zhǐ hé nǐ yìqǐ kàn xuě kàn xīngxing kàn yuèliang, cóng shīcí gēfù tán dào rénshēng zhéxué.

我答应你今后只和你一起看雪看星星看月亮，从诗词歌赋谈到人生哲学。

Like life, love is full of ups and downs: Qiong Yao’s lovers inevitably experience various vicissitudes in life—accidents, separation, and even death—yet always manage to inject their misfortunes with pathos. In one episode of Princess Pearl, Ziwei becomes temporarily blind, and weeps to Erkang, who is himself seriously injured and comatose:

How can a shattered me save a shattered you?

Yí gè pòsuì de wǒ yào zěnme zhěngjiù yí gè pòsuì de nǐ?

一个破碎的我要怎么拯救一个破碎的你?

So next time someone asks for a favor but you are busy with your own issues, simply reply:

“Sorry, but a shattered me cannot save a shattered you.”

Duìbuqǐ, dàn yí gè pòsuì de wǒ wúfǎ zhěngjiù yí gè pòsuì de nǐ a.

对不起，但一个破碎的我无法拯救一个破碎的你啊。

Yiping, on the other hand, is better at talking than writing. When her boyfriend Shuhuan returns to his hometown, she vents her to diary:

Day 1 after Shuhuan left: Miss him.

Shūhuán zǒu de dì yī tiān, xiǎng tā.

书桓走的第一天，想他。

Day 2 after Shuhuan left: Miss him, miss him.

Shūhuán zǒu de dì èr tiān, xiǎng tā, xiǎng tā.

书桓走的第二天，想他，想他。

Day 3 after Shuhuan left: Miss him, miss him, miss him.

Shūhuán zǒu de dì sān tiān, xiǎng tā, xiǎng tā, xiǎng tā.

书桓走的第三天，想他，想他，想他。

And so forth: Qiong Yao’s heroine may not be good writer (albeit, she is a fine mathematician), but this template is pretty useful. Two years ago, when Kobe Bryant retired, one of his fans wrote on social media: “It’s day one after Kobe left. Miss him.”

Though Qiong Yao’s success in romance writing is unmatched, her works are frequently criticized for promoting the wrong values, with moral guardians even labeling some of her lines as literary “poison.” In Fantasies Behind the Pearly Curtain, the heroine Ziling falls in love with her sister Lüping’s fiancé Chu Lian, and they have an affair. Chu decides to come clean to Lüping, but before he can do so, Lüping, a dancer, loses her leg in a car accident.

Chu then marries Lüping out of guilt, and when she finds out the truth, Lüping takes revenge on the whole family. At this point, Ziling’s husband Fei Yunfan calls out Lüping in one of Qiong Yao’s most notorious lines:

You just lost a leg, but what about Ziling? She lost half her life! Not to mention the love she threw away for you.

Nǐ zhǐbuguò shì shīqù le yītiáo tuǐ. Zǐlíng ne? Tā shīqù le bàn tiáo mìng! Gèng búyào shuō tā wèi nǐ gēshě diào de àiqíng.

你只不过是失去了一条腿。紫菱呢？她失去了半条命！更不要说她为你割舍掉的爱情。

This line is usually quoted as evidence of Qiong Yao’s “incorrect” views on love and life. In the show, Lüping becomes speechless in the face of such impassioned criticism. But perhaps, she should have just replied: “You are heartless, you are cruel, you are unreasonable!”