A woman's sixth sense led Bao Qianwan to guess that Long Teng might like this beautiful woman in front of them.
"A plastic-surgery fatso?"
Wen Jiaren squatted down, raised her willow leaf-like brows to look at the man, her fiery red lips lightly curving into a beautiful arc. Her striking beauty made people gasp for breath, and the men standing closer felt their hearts pound, while the women watched, transfixed.
The man on the ground, staring at the face so close to his own, blushed despite his pale complexion, and he was at a loss for words.
After a moment, Wen Jiaren slightly parted her red lips and pointed at her own face, perfected by Kevin's skillful hands, flawless and beyond reproach, and said to the man, "Do you want to touch my face? I've heard you can tell if a face has had surgery by touching it. Do you want to try?"
Although Wen Jiaren had lost her memory, she could feel that her face hadn't had any surgery.
