"It truly does calm the mind!" Huang Wude's eyes widened as he stared at my phone screen.
Drops of water fell from his black hair, the unnatural blush on his face fading.
I handed him the phone and instructed, "Focus on it without distraction; it'll help you clear your mind and reduce desires."
"What if I feel like throwing up?" Forced to look at a photograph of someone so ugly it made him doubt life, Huang Wude's lips twitched.
His face turned greener and greener, making him feel nauseous.
I quickly objected, "That won't do. If Yuan Hong finds vomit stains in the room and suspects me, what then?"
"Alright, I'll endure it, but it's really too ugly; my eyes are about to go blind." With aesthetic standards that emphasize beauty, Huang Wude felt tortured, experiencing agony beyond words.
Sitting across the round table, I rested my chin in a carefree manner, "Hey, what's the connection between Yuan Hong and King Yu's Tomb?"
