""My good sir, you've returned."
A woman, about forty and clad in gaudy, multicolored clothing, her face caked with rouge and powder, her lips tinged with an overly... bright scarlet, sauntered out of the mudbrick dwelling before them, her leg raised, a deliberate swivel of her hips.
If we're being honest, this scene hurt the eyes of the Mortal Fisherman quite a bit. He twitched the corners of his mouth several times before he dropped his head. Helpless, he simply couldn't keep his mirth at bay, the rhythm of his laughter almost snuck out, ah, ah, ah.
If one asked the fisherman to describe the woman before him, he'd surely pick out two words, "Brothel Keeper." She was a bona fide worker of a pleasure house.
Seeing his own wife, Mo Yaotiao, decked out in such 'heavy makeup' akin to a ghostly apparition, the stand-in village chief Brother Fan Er's eyes started twitching uncontrollably. He felt like he... didn't want to live anymore, oh my.
