The man's expression was visibly changing before my eyes. At first, he curled his lips as if he couldn't believe what he had heard, and then, after confirming that he had not misheard, he let out a light laugh.
"I'm ugly?"
Yao Qing didn't speak, her face cold as she watched him, with a clearly displeased mood about to overflow.
It was the first time in Yu Yanshen's life that he had been called ugly—quite a novel experience.
It wasn't that he was vain. He looked at his face in the mirror every day and felt nothing particular about it, but he did have normal aesthetic sensibilities; the word "ugly" was miles away from him.
After staring at Yao Qing for a few seconds, he leaned in and kissed her face.
"Okay, I'm ugly, and you're the most beautiful."
Yao Qing pushed him away, grabbing a tissue from the table to wipe at something that wasn't on her face.
"I'm not beautiful either. There are plenty of beautiful women out there, all interested in you."
