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The Red Dust piles up ten thousand feet high; the Buddha beholds all beings' appearances, mortal features are ever-changing, due to their sly hearts.
Some people, shrewdly crafty, alter their appearances with ease, which is merely a reflection of their emotional and intellectual quotients.
Some people, cunning with no finesse, shift their appearances awkwardly, crudely and artificially, like a strained performance.
Then there are those, whose lack of cunning is more cunning than skill itself, a natural work of art, refreshingly pure and untainted.
Qin Yu was the sort that no matter how much she acted, it never seemed excessive, blessed with a natural beauty and an aura that was in a league of its own. Her acting, honed in Ye Yan's abyssal purgatory, didn't need to be forced when pleasing a man.
