Shen Sihan motioned Ye Qiaoxi to sit on the couch in her shop, and then pulled out a cigar from a cigar box on the coffee table.
Her veil covered to the top of her mouth and did not prevent her from smoking a cigar.
The woman in a black dress, a black veil, red nutmeg on her fingernails, the smoke of the cigar slowly escaping from the corners of her lips.
Ye Qiaoxi had never seen a woman who smoked cigars with such noble elegance.
"Um, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to pry into your privacy." She did not hear the woman answer her, and for a moment she felt uneasy, as if she had asked something she should not have.
"It's fine, I left the entertainment industry because of this." Shen Sihan gently lifted her black veil.
Ye Qiaoxi covered her mouth in fear and so not to make a sound.
The woman with the scar on her face could not be compared to the beautiful woman who had been crowned godmother of fashion.