Chapter 283: Transcendent Qing (20)
Seol Iri had a faint expression.
You couldn’t chalk it up to her martial cultivation—her bastard clan was plenty expressive.
Especially that look she gave when someone splashed water on her and she just sat there in cold silence: pure condemnation, pure sorrow, all wordlessly screaming this is all your fault.
It was practically a masterclass in accusatory suffering.
So maybe Seol Iri was just born this way.
The way she sat there now, silently staring at Qing with those flat, unfazed eyes—never speaking, but always staring—what the hell was that?
Of course, having a faint expression didn’t mean her emotions were faint. Her likes and dislikes were as sharp and unmoving as a blade.
Look at her now: face blank, but her fingers on the table were twitching in little invisible lines, like they were tracing grooves into the wood.
People fidget for many reasons, but it’s usually a sign of nervous anticipation.
Qing didn’t need any special intuition to figure this one out.
“Lady Seol. You’re drooling.”
“No, I’m not.”