"Xiao Qi."
Lin Yanqing wore an inscrutable smile.
Her eyes, as 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 profession. Wearing an identical skin doesn't make you that person." Lin Yanqing had stopped walking entirely and watched him quietly. "The way you walk, stand, sit, and lie down, your subtle expressions, even the most basic placement of your voice-none of them are anything like Xiao Qi's."
"Tell me, who... are you?"
She slowly approached Qin Manjiang, bent slightly, and leaned close to his ear, whispering, "And... who is this person inside my body?"
She could hardly have made herself any clearer.
Qin Manjiang simply hadn't expected to have so many flaws in his disguise!
Indeed, the way a person spoke, where they placed their voice, even their standing and sitting postures and their expressions when interacting with others-all had their own individual characteristics.
Given some time to observe Xiao Qi properly, he might have managed a passable imitation. But his soul had simply been shoved into Xiao Qi's body. How was he supposed to know what Xiao Qi had originally been like?
Actors-life was a play, and plays were their lives. For people accustomed to imitating the nuances of others, spotting subtle changes in someone was all too easy.
Even the old man responsible for drumming on the boat had noticed something wrong with him.
Yet this stunningly beautiful Lin Yanqing still put Qin Manjiang under immense pressure.
Qin Manjiang could clearly sense her breath. He knew she wasn't a ghost.
But this terrifying pressure had nothing whatsoever to do with ghosts. Qin Manjiang even suspected that, if he could explain it clearly, Lin Yanqing would be perfectly capable of understanding