But I Beg for Beauty

Wu Ying sat in front of the bronze mirror, looking at the face in the mirror that had been carefully traced with makeup and powder, and felt very strange. The eyebrows were drawn longer and flew into the temples, making her almond-shaped eyes look sharper. The lips were dotted with lipstick and turned a true vermilion color, like a blooming begonia in spring. Her hair was tied up in a high bun, and twelve gold and jade hairpins were inserted into it one after another. Each hairpin hung heavily, as if to bend her neck. She still didn't bend. I waited alone in the wedding room for a long time. Then she saw a hand reaching out. Right hand. The knuckles of the scarred hand were slightly curled, and the movements were very slow, as if they were afraid of scaring someone away. The fingertips were trembling slightly - not because of nervousness, but because the hand was injured too badly, and the recovery to this level was the result of the doctors' best efforts. That hand pinched the edge of the red hijab. Very gently, lift upwards. The moment the red silk slipped, Wu Ying finally saw him. Rong Weixi. His eyes were on her face. The left eye was as clear as a cold pool, while the right eye was covered with a thin layer of mist, as if separated by morning mist. The two seemingly different eyes were slightly widened at this moment, with an undisguised and almost dazed look of confusion. He probably didn't expect that the face under the hijab would look like this. Wu Ying knows what she looks like. Among the ladies in the capital, she is not the most beautiful, but her eyes are very good. Her beauty is bright and sharp, like an edged knife. At this moment, the eyes met for a moment. The chic, tough and beautiful county princess & the disfigured, innocent, beautiful, strong and miserable general