Glancing at Yu Lan, who stood silently in the corner of the elevator, and noticing the disheveled appearance of the girl, they rolled their eyes and deliberately elongated their tones.
"There's a watery smell on her, it's really unpleasant."
"Yes, quite rough, too clumsy, the smell never leaves her body no matter how hard she tries to wash it off."
Yu Lan originally didn't want to respond, but hearing that delicate mocking voice growing louder, coupled with her previous frustrations, an inexplicable anger made her speak coldly:
"Smearing on some rouge, thinking it adds glamour, sticking oneself to others at a mere promise, thinking everything belongs to oneself. To those who don't know, it seems like a delicate flower walked in; to those who know, it's just a corner flower that's blooming."
The delicate faces of the Merfolk girls were full of astonishment; not because they were stunned by the girl's rebuttal, but because they didn't understand what Yu Lan meant.
