"There's a livestream tonight." He suddenly grasped her hand as she applied more makeup, his thumb pressing into the remaining concealer on her palm, "You'll go with me." It was not a request but a declaration. When He Ying wiped his fingertips with a wet tissue, Lu Jincheng suddenly turned his wrist, leaving a mark of flesh-colored cream just below her lips—a spot that could be perfectly concealed with a mask.
The light from He Ying's makeup mirror cast a ring below Lu Jincheng's Adam's apple, coincidentally highlighting the deep red mark left by Zhong Ruixi—a complete oval with teeth imprints, its edges tinged with the purplish hue of broken capillaries.
