Looking at the man who was walking in, Mu Xitong was a tad surprised. At the very least, he was over one point eight metres tall. He had flowing flax-colored hair, and his somewhat tight-fitting black clothes showed off his perfect physique. The only flaw was his face. If his face was restored to its original appearance, would he look incredibly handsome? People often said ‘clothes make the man’, and it was indeed true.
“From the back, one would certainly think that he’s very handsome, but the face does pose a bit of a problem,” Du Shaoheng said, a hand propped under his chin.
“Hey! Are you discriminating against him?” Mu Xitong demanded, pointing a finger at him.
“No, no, no, that’s not what I meant,” Du Shaoheng hastily said.
“About the face, he can wear a mask,” the stylist said deferentially.
“That’s quite a good idea. If you wear a mask, people won’t be able to recognize you. Plus, you might even be able to ensnare a few ladies,” Du Shaoheng said with a smile.