But when he recalled the time he accidentally spilled Fu Qiang's foundation, which resulted in her locking him on the balcony to be fed to the mosquitoes for three hours.
A nightmare surged in his heart, and Jinghen dismissed the idea of tossing out the pile of makeup.
Makeup to women was like their lives, untouchable and sacred.
After a while, in this silent standoff, Jinghen was the first to admit defeat.
He realized that Wen Qiao seemed genuinely unaware of his mood swings. President Fu, who had been performing a monologue for quite some time, finally caught her attention with a couple of coughs.
"What's wrong?"
Jinghen's gaze fell on her bright red lips, "With foundation and lipstick, how will you manage to eat? Aren't you worried about poisoning yourself? There'll be no one to call 120 for you."
