Shi Man was not used to someone fiddling with her hair at close range. The moment the stylist's hand touched her hair, she reflexively twisted her wrist.
"It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. Missy, don't be nervous. I don't mean any harm!" The man in the vertical striped shirt begged her with a bitter expression.
Strangely, Shi Man was clearly twisting his wrist, but he was struggling to twist his waist as he cried out in pain. His voice was also a little feminine.
"I'm sorry." Shi Man retracted her hand apologetically. Because she had done it out of reflex just now, she couldn't control her strength.
If not for the stylist begging for mercy quickly, his wrist would have been dislocated.
However, even though Shi Man restrained her strength in time, red finger marks still landed on the man's fair hand.
