Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
The air changed in an instant.
The once crowded and lively Her Hair Care booth seemed to be covered by an invisible layer of frost, and low murmurs began to rise around, like an uncontrollable plague spreading rapidly, intensifying, until it became a tidal wave of sound that left Ye Mo Li gasping for breath.
"Is it true... are those two braids really Armpit Hair?"
"That's ridiculous! How could anyone have Armpit Hair that long?!"
"Oh my god... I thought she was stunning just a moment ago, but now I feel utterly creeped out..."
"This is just too disgusting; I can't take it anymore. I'm leaving..."
Some people gasped in disbelief, covering their mouths; others wore clear expressions of disgust and turned away, as if merely sharing the same air with Ye Mo Li was an unbearable ordeal.
"Where did this monster come from..." someone muttered under their breath, yet loud enough for her to hear.
Ye Mo Li's body trembled slightly.
She had been the brightest star at this summit, just moments ago standing in the spotlight, admired and adored by everyone, as if the world had finally recognized her beauty and was willing to compare her to aesthetic standards beyond the realm of "Smooth."
But now, everything had collapsed.
Those gazes were no longer filled with awe but rather with disgust, contempt, and fear.
Her eyes began to lose focus, and the surrounding sounds transformed into an unbearable buzzing hum, like bombers circling in her mind, relentlessly bombarding her nerves, making it impossible for her to concentrate, causing her brain to be engulfed by countless fearful memories.
This was not the first time such a thing had happened.
Her consciousness started to blur as those scars buried deep within her memories were torn open one by one by these venomous voices, bleeding profusely.
In middle school, she wore long sleeves for the first time.
She had already realized that her armpit hair was different from other girls'.
It grew too fast, too thick, and was too difficult to control.
But she thought that as long as she covered it up, everything would be fine.
Until one day, after gym class, she forgot to adjust her cuffs. A simple stretch revealed her armpit hair.
By the time she realized what had happened, it was too late.
"Oh my god, why is her armpit hair so long?!"
"What is this?! A jungle?!"
"Hahahahaha! Gross! How can a girl have something like that!"
Everyone surrounded her, laughing.
Some even pretended to sweep away her armpit hair with a broom, calling her the school's "Armpit Hair Monster."
People started taking pictures of her and spreading them throughout the school, turning her into a "freak" in everyone's eyes, becoming the most bizarre and disgusting legend in the entire school.
Her textbooks were vandalized with graffiti calling her "Hair Monster," black ink was splashed on her chair, and during gym class, her clothes were often hidden. Even when she went to the restroom, she could hear whispers from outside the stalls—
"Do you think her armpit hair is long enough to braid?"
"Hahahaha, maybe she could even tie it into a ponytail!"
Her body had once been roughly tugged, just to verify how long her armpit hair really was. Her backpack had been stuffed with razors, depilatory cream, beeswax strips, and a note that read, "Hurry up and shave off that disgusting stuff."
Those memories had once suffocated her.
Then, one day, she ran home, locked herself in her room, and with a razor in hand, she scraped away again and again.
After she finished, it grew back.
She scraped again, and it still grew back.
Blood mixed with tears slid down her face as her hands trembled uncontrollably. No matter how much she shaved, her armpit hair would regenerate; she could never escape this "curse."
She had once felt that there was no place for her in this world.
She had once believed she would never be accepted.
Later, she worked hard to become stronger, to stop being afraid, to believe that there were more possibilities in this world and that beauty was not the only standard.
But now, those voices, that malice, those cruel gazes...
They had returned.
Now, those nightmares had descended upon her once more.
She stood rigidly in place, her lips pale, her gaze hollow. The sounds around her faded further away as the world began to blur, as if she were being pulled away from herself entirely.
The girl who had just shone like a goddess was now left with nothing but a ghostly pallor.
"Having hair is beautiful!"
Shen Dudu suddenly stood up, her round little face flushed with anger, her eyes ablaze with defiance. She shouted loudly at those who were whispering and wearing expressions of disgust, "How can you speak like that?! Aesthetic appreciation should be diverse; beauty isn't defined solely by smoothness! So what if there's hair?! Does having thick hair mean one doesn't deserve to live in this world?!"
Her voice was sharp, filled with undeniable fury, but it only served to ignite the crowd that had been murmuring.
"That's hilarious! You can't possibly think armpit hair can be as beautiful as hair on your head, right?"
"This isn't about hair care! Having beautiful hair is one thing; armpit hair looking like that is just disgusting."
"Don't talk about diverse aesthetics; just looking at it makes me nauseous!"
"How could something like this even be featured at the Hair Care Summit? Don't joke around; it's an insult to beauty!"
The crowd mercilessly began to spar verbally with Shen Dudu, showing no signs of retreat. Some even sneered, "So your brand is promoting armpit hair care? You might as well hold a body hair convention; maybe you’ll attract a bunch of weirdos to support you!"
Shen Dudu trembled with rage. "You people have no brains! Aesthetics can change! Do you think people from hundreds of years ago would accept your current standards of beauty?!"
Yet this verbal confrontation did not diminish the hostility in the air; instead, it drew more people into the discussion. The scene grew increasingly chaotic, with voices of disgust, disdain, and mockery rising and falling. Shen Dudu found herself unable to suppress the malicious crowd alone.
However—
All sounds, all mockery, all arguments suddenly came to a halt in an instant.
Because Leng Yichen's expression had changed.
His face darkened.
His previously indifferent eyes seemed to be shrouded in a deep mist, and an invisible sense of oppression descended upon the scene, as if the air had thickened, becoming cold and heavy.
He slightly furrowed his brow, a flicker of indescribable emotion flashing in his gaze—was it anger or some shadow touched by a forbidden topic?
The voices... the humiliation and denial directed at "Hair"...
It filled him with disgust.
Those people may not know, but what Shen Dudu didn’t realize was—
Leng Yichen was never just an ordinary "Hair" enthusiast; his obsession with "Ultimate Hair Beauty" far surpassed the understanding of the masses, bordering on madness.
In this world, no one could truly comprehend his standards.
The aesthetics of this world had never mattered.
Only "Extreme" mattered.
And now, this group of people dared to show such contempt and humiliation towards "Hair" in front of him?
His fingertips curled slightly, his hand hidden at his side clenched into a faint fist, as if suppressing some surging emotion.
Leng Yichen was angry.
However, standing beside him, Su Luobing was completely oblivious to this.
All she saw was Leng Yichen's expression grow cold, and that he no longer glanced at Ye Mo Li. Instantly, she felt a sense of relief.
The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, revealing a smug smile, a glint of malice flashing in her eyes: "Hmph... This filthy thing has indeed disgusted Leng Yichen."
She deliberately took a step back, quietly observing Ye Mo Li's pale face, feeling a sense of balance restored within her.
Manager Leng was no longer paying attention to that worthless woman.
She could finally feel at ease.
"Are you all still going to humiliate yourselves here? Just look at Manager Leng's face; it's changed!"
A man sneered, his tone dripping with disdain and contempt. His words acted like a fuse, igniting the crowd's unabashed expressions of disgust. Some even whispered mockingly, "How disgusting... This freak still dares to come to the Hair Care Summit?"
"Still trying to sell hair care products? That's laughable."
"This booth should just be smashed!"
In the next moment—
"Smack—!"
Someone unhesitatingly reached out and knocked the products off the booth, glass bottles shattering on the ground. Hair oil splattered everywhere, and the displayed items rolled across the marble floor, the words "Her Hair Care" on the bottles appearing particularly ironic.
"Stop it!!"
Shen Dudu's eyes widened as she rushed over, her voice nearly breaking as she tried to protect those products. Her small frame shielded the damaged part of the booth, her eyes filled with anger yet tinged with helplessness.
"How can you do this?! Our products are our hard work!!"
But no one cared about her efforts. They merely stood by, looking at Shen Dudu with scornful, mocking gazes, as if she were a mother bird desperately trying to protect her eggs—clumsy and powerless.
"Oh dear, are you angry? What are you angry about? Can this stuff even be called hair care products?"
"Protecting it? This scene is just too ridiculous... It's like a freak show."
"If you want to protect it so badly, why not take these disgusting things home and use them yourself?"
They laughed heartily, spewing venomous words without a trace of remorse, as if it were merely a farcical performance. The struggles and resistance of Shen Dudu and Ye Mo Li were nothing more than the climax of an absurd play; the more they resisted, the more ridiculous it seemed.
Ye Mo Li's fingertips trembled, her heart feeling as if it were being tightly gripped by someone. The past fears, pains, and humiliations ensnared her once again.
She did not want to return to that hellish past.
She refused.
She refused!!
"Stop it!!"
With every ounce of strength she could muster, she suddenly stood up and shouted loudly—
But no one listened to her.
The humiliation and mockery directed at them escalated step by step, as if intent on crushing them completely, leaving them unable to stand again.
Comment 0 Comment Count