They punctured several more Man-Faced Conches in succession and gradually discovered a pattern: those higher up had a greater survival rate, while those farther down were more likely to be dead husks.
The Man-Faced Conches above worked diligently to release mucus and reinforce the high wall, never resting until they exhausted their mucus, then rotted away into completely empty shells.
Because this process of decay was ongoing, when the sea breeze brushed their faces and swept over the conch wall, the fishy stench of rot it carried could practically make everyone vomit up this year's New Year's Eve dinner on credit before they had even eaten it.
As luck would have it, the production team had even prepared oxygen tanks and diving equipment, but no masks... after all, no one had expected anything like this.
Just as everyone was scrunching up their faces and pinching their noses, Mu Xingchen suddenly said, "I brought masks. There's enough to go around."
As he spoke, he took a stack of black disposable masks-an idol essential-from his backpack.
Pubu Gesang asked casually, "Why do you bring so many masks when you go out? Can you even use them all?"
Mu Xingchen smiled smugly. "Haven't you heard that masks are an idol's ultimate beauty filter? Besides, some ordinary-looking people look much better with a mask on."
The key to a mask's flattering effect was that it concealed most people's less-than-soft or perfect facial contours, along with insufficiently high nose bridges and insufficiently delicate lips.
[Is this allowed? He just casually spilled industry secrets to us like that?]
[Ah... my favorite idol's most stunning photo is one where he's wearing a mask, hahahaha. It really is the best-looking one out of all his pictures.]
[That's our guy. Three sentences, and his manager must be sweating buckets.]