"I don't have makeup OCD!" Ye Xiaoyu's rebuttal became increasingly weak. She never really thought she was sick, but after Qian repeatedly emphasized it, she realized she might indeed be somewhat different from others.
"If someone wrongs me, I express it through my actions rather than bottling it up in my heart. I don't see the world as having so many people I secretly hate, nor do I need to change myself for anyone to fit in. So I live comfortably. This lesson is a return for your exquisite culinary skills; go back and reflect on it yourself."
Qian, in a good mood early in the morning, was willing to give a lesson to someone suffering from makeup OCD.
"Some people don't secretly hate... Is there another way?" Qian's words touched the deepest parts of Ye Xiaoyu's heart.
