Volume 1, Chapter 47 – Do You Want to Marry Me Under a Different Identity?

Huang Qi’s already guilty conscience took another hit—he hadn’t expected his “father” to react so strongly.

“Little Ling, I know you don’t want me taking risks, but you can’t sacrifice your future like this! With your talent, your prospects are limitless. How could some petty prefect’s son ever be worthy? And you’re only fifteen—I absolutely forbid you to marry now!”

Cheng Yuan paced excitedly before his “daughter”, gesturing emphatically.

“No no no, you misunderstand!”

Huang Qi waved his hands frantically. “I just want an adult identity tablet—not to marry him!”

“Ah?”

Cheng Yuan froze momentarily before asking reflexively, “Why would you need an adult identity tablet?”

“Ugh, I have my reasons. Don’t ask!”

Huang Qi complained, then immediately cringed at his own voice. Though he meant to sound annoyed, the sweet, melodious tone made it come off like coquettish whining.

“Alright, alright! Daddy won’t ask!”

Cheng Yuan’s doting tone shifted to concern. “But if you refuse Young Master Dong’s proposal, why would he help?”

“If he won’t do this small favor, how dare he speak of marrying me again?”

Huang Qi countered confidently. As a man, he understood the mentality of simps all too well.

“…Fair point.”

After thoughtful consideration, Cheng Yuan nodded. “When do you need this tablet?”

“Immediately. That’s why I came today—I need you to accompany me to the Prefect’s residence.”

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Huang Qi’s urgency was palpable.

“You little rascal, and here I thought you came just to see me!”

Cheng Yuan feigned hurt.

Huang Qi tensed—he’d slipped up.

Of course, Cheng Yuan wouldn’t actually hold it against his “daughter”. Soon, they were en route to the Prefect’s mansion, Huang Qi reluctantly donning his veil again—an impostor of such a famous fairy couldn’t afford public scrutiny.

“Once we arrive, speak privately with Young Master Dong,” Cheng Yuan advised midway.

“Why?”

Huang Qi found this odd—as a fraud, he preferred staying inconspicuous.

“Such matters can’t be discussed openly. Naturally, I can’t bring it up with his parents directly. My presence just shows our sincerity—understand?”

Cheng Yuan patiently explained—after all, even a prodigy was still just fifteen.

“Understood!”

Huang Qi marveled at the older man’s shrewdness.

At the Prefect’s residence, Huang Qi reluctantly removed his veil as a courtesy.

The entire Dong family—Prefect, wife, and son—personally came out to greet them.

Huang Qi wasn’t surprised. In this world, cultivators far outranked officials. A peerless fairy like Cheng Hongling stood above even the crown prince’s station, let alone some prefect’s son.

“Nephew Cheng! Niece Hongling! What brings such esteemed guests today?”

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Prefect Dong, rotund in lavish silks, beamed jovially—a stark contrast to his wife, whose curvaceous figure and well-maintained beauty exuded mature charm. Together, they resembled Beauty and the Beast.

Their son had clearly inherited his mother’s looks—tall, slender, and fair-skinned.

No wonder men chase beautiful women—it’s not just prestige, but superior offspring, Huang Qi mused.

“You flatter us, Prefect. We’re but common folk,” Cheng Yuan replied evenly before instructing, “Little Ling, greet Uncle Dong, Aunt Dong, and… Brother Dong.”

Cringing internally, Huang Qi complied: “Uncle Dong… Aunt Dong… Brother… Dong.”

The last title nearly killed him.

“Such a beautiful, well-mannered girl! Nephew Cheng, you’ve raised her well!”

Madam Dong’s hungry gaze devoured Huang Qi like a wolf eyeing lamb.

After pleasantries, Young Master Dong pounced: “Hongling-meimei ¹ Little/younger sister ! More radiant than ever!”

“You… flatter me.”

Though uncomfortable with the praise, Huang Qi had grown somewhat accustomed.

“Every word is sincere! You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen!”

Dong Yu’s earnestness sent shivers down Huang Qi’s spine.

Simps truly deserve extermination—this is revolting.

Soon, the elders “conveniently” left them alone. Huang Qi learned the young master’s full name—Dong Yu.

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Seizing the opportunity, Dong Yu summoned dozens of exquisite snacks.

The opulence turned Huang Qi’s stomach—while Hua Tian villagers starved, the prefect’s household wallowed in excess.

“Brother Dong, I actually came to ask a favor.”

Huang Qi cut to the chase.

“Anything for you, meimei!”

Dong Yu was all generosity.

“I need you to procure an adult identity tablet for me.”

Dong Yu’s eyes lit up. “You’ve finally agreed?!”

He lunged for Huang Qi’s hand.

Huang Qi dodged smoothly. “Words suffice. No touching.”

“Why the act? I told Uncle Cheng—if you marry me, I’ll alter your birthdate on the registry. Have you reconsidered?”

Dong Yu’s smug analysis missed by miles.

“Misunderstanding. I don’t want my own records changed—I need a completely new adult identity.”

Huang Qi’s current scheme was shady enough without burdening the real Hongling further.

“A new identity?”

After a stunned pause, Dong Yu slapped his thigh. “You want to marry me under a different name! Brilliant! With your fame here, directly changing your age would raise eyebrows. Why didn’t I think of that?”

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Sigh.

Huang Qi rolled his eyes. ‘Buddy, your imagination deserves awards. I do want to change identities to marry—just not you.’

“Brother Dong, I never said I’d marry you.”

Time was short—the real fairy could appear any moment.

“No marriage? Then how dare you ask for favors? I’m the prefect’s son—not some shameless simp!”

Dong Yu’s “unshakable principles” suddenly emerged.

“Think carefully—pursuing a fifteen-year-old is illegal. But with an adult identity, that problem vanishes. Besides, if you won’t help with this small thing, how can you claim to like me?”

Huang Qi’s masterful guilt-trip would make any normal girl hesitate—but dignity was a small price for survival.

Dong Yu was speechless. “…That’s… disturbingly logical. I can’t refuse.”

“Naturally. I’m nothing if not reasonable.”

Huang Qi smirked.

“When do you need it? I’ll deliver it personally!”

The conquered simp pledged fervently.

“Now.”

Huang Qi marveled at the power of a pretty face—even “principled” men crumbled.