Aside from Bu Er and Jiang Zhizhou, the Divine Doctor Xue before them now also knew that Yang Qing had worn a false face all these years.
When Yang Qing had first decided to wear the mask, Divine Doctor Xue had wanted to stop him, but he had been unable to.
Now that Yang Qing had resolved to remove it, Divine Doctor Xue was once again powerless.
Never mind that the mask had been on Yang Qing's face for more than a decade—even removing it immediately after putting it on would have had a considerable effect on his original features.
Divine Doctor Xue brought all his lifetime's learning to bear, yet he still trembled.
Yang Qing, by contrast, said quite unconcernedly, "I've worn this fine visage for more than a decade. I should think that's long enough."
Divine Doctor Xue merely heaved a long sigh, though his hands never stopped working.
After dripping the medicinal liquid onto Yang Qing's face, he held up a blackened bowl and used a small stick to scoop out some equally dark, paste-like substance, smearing it onto Yang Qing's face a little at a time.
Yang Qing felt as though his face had been plastered with a thick layer of flour. When he moved his head, the powder pattered down.
"Keep your mouth shut. Not a sound." As though he had known exactly what Yang Qing intended, Divine Doctor Xue spoke before Yang Qing could, forcing him to swallow the words he had been about to say.
Yang Qing could not see the changes on his own face, but Bu Er and Jiang Zhizhou beside him saw them clearly.
A layer of foam-like material on his face was steadily dissolving, turning into liquid and dripping off.
Soon, Yang Qing's face was clean once more.
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