"So when do you plan to make a move?"
Upon hearing that Song Heping was getting ready to disguise himself, Oma thought Song Heping was about to take action.
Unexpectedly, Song Heping still shook his head, "No, I don't know when we'll make a move, we can only wait for now."
"Wait?!"
Oma stood up again, frustrated.
Song Heping remained calm, "Yes, wait."
Oma was so angry that he left his meal unfinished and stomped upstairs.
"White Bear, go up with him and get the makeup box, let's all get disguised."
...
An hour later.
Song Heping stood in front of the mirror, looking at his reflection.
His hair had been dyed salt-and-pepper gray.
Two streaks of mustache clung to his lips.
His forehead was lined with wrinkles, created with glue.
Even his complexion had been darkened with pigment cream to a coffee color.
He looked like a fisherman who had been braving the elements at sea for years.
Picking up the cap next to him, he put it on.
Now, even more so.