Qingmu applied the mixture from the bowl to Juhua's face. Surprisingly, while it didn't look much like the original condition, it was somehow even uglier.
Juhua had been caring for her skin with facial masks for two years, and she normally kept her face covered with a scarf. Since she was only in her teens, her skin was naturally supple and smooth. But now, with the fake, scabby patch smeared over her scar—a patch of red that Qingmu had deliberately made uneven and bumpy—the contrast was simply…
Qingmu suddenly felt his chest tighten. He stared at the fake scab he had just created, filled with an indescribable revulsion.
