Han Yue gave Zhong Wuyan a sideways glance, then turned back to pull a handkerchief from her Ring of Holding to wipe her face. Yet as the damp fabric swept across her red lips and the tip of her nose, a pungent, alien stench assaulted her nostrils.
There was foot odor, body sweat, underarm stink, and even some indescribably foul aromas mixed in. How agonizingly refreshing was that particular bouquet?
Han Yue's mind went blank. What the hell was this? Why did it smell like stinky feet? Wait, was there something else too—?
Chapter 641