Upon entering the East Market, the hubbub of noise came from all around, noisy and clamorous, teeming with excitement.
Seated beside the coachman, Wan Lu didn't forget to share with Ran Yan everything she saw and heard, "Wife, it seems true that the ladies of Chang'an do not wear masks!"
"The noble ladies of great families still need to wear a veil or a face-covering. Those who aren't good-looking need to cover up, and the beautiful ones want to maintain a sense of freshness. They have nothing serious to do all day, yet their diversions are plentiful and varied," Ran Yun said with disdain.
Ran Yun was a pragmatic person. In her eyes, the noble ladies of great families were not even comparable to the street vendors who used their charm to attract customers for their tofu flowers.
The corners of Ran Yan's lips rose. This little girl, Ran Yun, would surely be called a "youth activist" in the future world. She spared no effort in mocking and ridiculing things she disapproved of.
