He is not Xie Yu.
Yue Jinghua's senses were astonishingly sharp, and even in such a pitch-dark night, she instantaneously noticed the differences between the male assassin and Xie Yu.
The silhouettes of the two might be very similar, both with finely-arched eyebrows and a straight nose bridge, faces that were one-in-a-hundred in a crowd, but they were completely different people.
Xie Yu adored extravagant attire, like a peacock in full bloom, whereas this man was dressed in plain clothes, his presence cooling the atmosphere several degrees upon arrival. Even the usually stern Fa Xiaoyi appeared jocular in comparison.
Xie Yu's smile was like the spring breeze of March, charming everywhere it went, but the smile of the man before her was like a flame wrapped in ice, equally dazzling but without a trace of warmth.
Their earrings were worn differently: one on the left, the other on the right.
