"Xiao Qi."
An inscrutable smile played across Lin Yanqing's face.
Her eyes, black as deep pools, seemed to see straight through that teenage body to Qin Manjiang's soul within.
"Singing, recitation, acting, and combat are the fundamentals of this trade. Wearing an identical skin doesn't make you that person." Lin Yanqing had stopped completely and watched him quietly. "The way you walk, stand, sit, and lie down, your subtle expressions, even something as basic as where you produce your voice-none of them are anything like Xiao Qi's."
"Tell me, who... are you?"
She walked slowly toward Qin Manjiang, bent slightly, and leaned close to his ear, whispering, "And... who is this person inside my body?"
She had made herself exceedingly clear.
Qin Manjiang simply hadn't expected to have given himself away in so many ways!
Indeed, the way a person spoke, where they produced their voice, even their standing and sitting postures and their expressions when interacting with others all had their own distinctive traits.
Given some time to observe Xiao Qi properly, he might have managed a passable imitation. But as things stood, his soul had simply been shoved into Xiao Qi's body. How could he know what Xiao Qi had originally been like?
Actors, actors-life was a play, and plays were their lives. For people accustomed to imitating the finer details of others, spotting subtle changes in someone was all too easy.
Even the old man in charge of the drum on the boat had noticed something wrong with him.
Yet this exquisitely beautiful Lin Yanqing still put Qin Manjiang under immense pressure.
Qin Manjiang could sense her presence very clearly. He knew she wasn't a ghost.
But this terrifying pressure had nothing to do with ghosts or monsters. Qin Manjiang even suspected that, if he could explain