The Makeup Mother was adept at reading the room and noticing Mo Yan's nervousness. She smiled to divert her attention, "The County Lord's skin is so fine, it makes all the exquisite rouge and face powder seem vulgar. Your skin is so smooth and tender; I can hardly bear to apply makeup, afraid I might damage your face."
Though it sounded like flattery, it came from the Makeup Mother's heart. Mo Yan's skin was indeed of the quality she described, both smooth and delicate, reminiscent of a freshly peeled egg, yet with a natural rosy whiteness. This natural, healthy complexion outshone the rouge in the makeup box, making the Makeup Mother reluctant to proceed, feeling that the cosmetics would only taint Mo Yan's face.
"You flatter me!"
Mo Yan's slight smile was reflected in the mirror, and the woman in it smiled back, truly enchanting. The Makeup Mother was captivated.
