Hearing Sun Zhe speak so nonchalantly, Miss Xie was clearly unconvinced.
She looked at the simple little wooden box in Sun Zhe's hand, her eyes full of disdain.
"What is this thing? Can it really be applied to my face?"
With a net worth in the billions, she was a popular singer and a music diva. Any cosmetic she used was worth several months' salary for an average person. So, she truly looked down on the ointment in Sun Zhe's hand.
Sun Zhe said, somewhat awkwardly, "This ointment doesn't have a name. It's just a recipe my grandpa taught me to mix. But don't worry, Miss Xie, it will definitely cure what's on your face."
As he spoke, he opened the wooden box. A pungent medicinal smell, not exactly stinky but not very pleasant either, immediately filled the air.
Miss Xie couldn't help but wrinkle her brow. She stepped back several paces in her exquisite high heels, her face a mask of disgust as she stared at the dark, gooey ointment in the box.
