Chapter 111: Real and Fake Yue Hongling

Chapter 111: The Real and Fake Yue Hongling

It was not just her appearance; her demeanor, tone, even the casual grace of drinking alone, and her familiar attitude toward him—this was unmistakably Yue Hongling.

Such an effect could not be achieved by mere makeup and acting. He knew Yue Hongling too well; anyone impersonating her would be seen through at a glance. Yet no matter how he looked, he could not tell this was a fake.

The only explanation was that the Maitreya Sect’s illusion arts were indeed formidable. He could not sense any illusion at work, yet he had fallen for it silently and completely. Truly impressive.

“I thought the Maitreya Sect would just find someone to play the part. I never imagined it would actually be Miss Yue here. Is this the surprise Master Fayuan mentioned?” Zhao Changhe put on a deliberately surprised expression as he sat beside her. “Unbelievable, truly unbelievable… So Miss Yue is really a Heavenly Maiden of the Maitreya Sect…”

Yue Hongling rolled her eyes. What kind of talk was this? As if he didn’t know whether she was a Maitreya follower?

Oh, no, no… He thought the Maitreya Heavenly Maiden was disguised as her, and he didn’t want the Heavenly Maiden to see through his real relationship with Yue Hongling, so he was pretending not to know her well.

Yue Hongling hadn’t come here to playact. She intended to discuss serious matters with Zhao Changhe, and she also loathed the thought of someone else wearing her face, enjoying pleasures and intimacies in her name. The mere idea disgusted her.

So she said directly, “I am Yue Hongling.”

Zhao Changhe refused to believe it. He laughed and said, “Of course you’re Miss Yue! Back then, when you saved me in Zhao Cuo, I was smitten and have never forgotten you. How could I mistake you? I never imagined that Master Fayuan… no, the Buddha, would truly send Miss Yue to instruct me in Buddhist teachings. This is wonderful…”

Yue Hongling almost wanted to kick him. The real person was right in front of him, yet this fool was convinced she was a Heavenly Maiden in disguise with illusion magic. Now she would have to prove her identity?

In the eyes of the world, their only connection was the incident in Zhao Cuo. Zhao Changhe’s words, spoken for the fake’s benefit, were exactly why everyone believed he secretly adored Yue Hongling—flawless. Only the real Yue Hongling knew their bond went far deeper, that the “captive wife” in the mountain stronghold was where their relationship truly began to grow. The more he only mentioned Zhao Cuo, the more it proved he thought she was a fake.

So all she needed to do was mention the stronghold, and the charade would collapse.

But just as she was about to speak, she stopped herself, her ears twitching slightly.

Someone was eavesdropping.

She swallowed her words, racked her brain, and began to play along: “Precisely because of our shared history, the Buddha sent me to guide you… Our Maitreya Sect and you are a match made in heaven. We have the backing you lack, the meridian transformations you seek, and… and me…”

Even she had to applaud herself inwardly. A Heavenly Maiden impersonating Yue Hongling could not have said it better! Who knew she had some acting talent?

But the next moment, she regretted it.

Zhao Changhe eagerly leaned in, his face a picture of lecherous longing: “I understand! Let’s not beat around the bush. The Maitreya Sect wants to recruit me, right? If you had told me earlier that Miss Yue was here, I would have joined with a wave of my hand! Of course, I must first taste the sweetness of your lips… Ah, don’t blame me for being so direct, Miss Yue. I have dreamed of you day and night…”

As he spoke, he even tried to put his arm around her waist.

Zhao Changhe was deliberately playing the fool, building his rough-and-tumble persona. The more the other side underestimated such an idiot, the more likely they would spill deep secrets—like what the Maitreya Sect planned next in Yangzhou, perhaps even letting him in on it.

As for mind control, he was sure she wouldn’t go straight to bed. She would hold back a little, since she was pretending to be Yue Hongling. Being too wanton would raise suspicion.

Sure enough, the “Flower-Picking Heavenly Maiden” feigned modesty and kicked him angrily: “Zhao Changhe! Is that all you ever think about?”

Zhao Changhe resisted the urge to dodge, letting himself be knocked over. He scrambled back up with a grin: “We bandits are like that—no rabbit, no hawk. If you really want to teach me Buddhism, I won’t understand it anyway. That would take forever, and then when would the Maitreya Sect get its big plans done?”

At these words, Yue Hongling could fully guess his intention: to pry information from the Heavenly Maiden. But she was still flushed with frustration.

I’m not the Heavenly Maiden! How am I supposed to act this out? Who’s out there listening? Why won’t they leave? If they don’t, I’ll smash the whole scene—let’s all stop pretending!

Suddenly, a voice reached her through sound transmission from outside: “Why did you hit him?”

Yue Hongling replied coldly, “That is the real Yue Hongling.”

Outside, the person smacked their lips, thinking it made sense, and said, “You have to give him some bait to lure him in slowly. Don’t get too carried away with the act.”

Just then, Zhao Changhe sidled up again, pleading, “Sister Yue, I know you’re no ordinary Heavenly Maiden. At least let me hold you, okay? If you let me hold you, I’ll listen to the Buddhist teachings seriously!”

With the soft “Sister Yue” on one side and the instruction to give him some sweetness on the other, Yue Hongling found herself trapped—neither able to dodge nor stay still. In a moment of hesitation, she didn’t move away, and he wrapped his arms around her solidly, even planting a kiss on her neck.

Goosebumps rose all over Yue Hongling’s skin. Her muscles tensed as she barely suppressed the urge to slap him into a spinning top. She took a deep breath and first transmitted to the person outside: “We’re about to start. Do you still need to listen outside?”

The Flower-Picking Heavenly Maiden’s status was not something ordinary followers could meddle with. The outsider chuckled sheepishly: “Just worried something might go wrong, so I’m keeping watch. Since this guy is completely bewitched by Yue Hongling, no need to watch further. I’m off, I’m off.”

Meanwhile, Zhao Changhe held the soft, fragrant body in his arms, marveling inwardly. How could even the scent be exactly like Yue Hongling’s? And she was as tense as a virgin—was this something illusion magic could achieve?

But he stayed in character, dutifully trying to extract information: “Sister Yue, I’ve finally held you. You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this… Just tell me what you want me to do in Yangzhou, and I’ll do it right away. I’d die for it…”

“Is that so?” The “Flower-Picking Heavenly Maiden” in his arms sneered. “You want to hold Sister Yue that badly? Since when?”

Zhao Changhe said, “Of course, it started from the moment I sat behind you on your horse…”

“Oh? Then when I was injured in your room, why didn’t you take advantage of me?”

“Because I respected… Huh?” Zhao Changhe froze, his eyes widening.

He slowly pulled back from nuzzling her neck, and looked up to see her sneering expression: “Chief, you’re quite the actor. Now you’ve spilled everything, haven’t you?”

“Ah, no, no, Sister Yue, listen to me!”

“Bang!” Yue Hongling stood up, executed a back throw, and slammed Zhao Changhe viciously onto the floor. “You’d die for it, would you? Then go die now!”

Zhao Changhe curled up, protecting his head: “Damn it! Why are you real? I’m innocent! I… I was saying all that for the fake’s benefit, trying to trick them into telling me what they’re planning in Yangzhou… Ouch, stop stepping on me! That was all lies. I never liked…”

He stopped abruptly.

The furious stomping behind him also stopped.

The air grew deathly still, broken only by Yue Hongling’s slightly ragged breathing, softly spreading through the room.

Outside, light footsteps approached again, and a voice transmitted: “What’s going on? We heard a noise… Huh? That breathing… Could it be that brute used force again? Damn, he’s impatient.”

The room was too quiet. Even Zhao Changhe’s senses picked up the movement outside. His mind raced, and he said loudly: “The Maitreya Sect’s Buddhist teachings are truly profound! Could this posture be the ‘Bodhisattva Sitting on the Lotus’? I am deeply enlightened…”

The footsteps outside faded once more.

Zhao Changhe turned over, his voice low, barely audible: “Forget everything I said before… If there’s anything I’ve held in my heart since Zhao Cuo, it’s the hope that one day I could ride through the martial world with you, sword in hand, sharing the journey. Today’s start was awkward, but I am honored—my old wish may be coming true.”

Yue Hongling looked at him quietly, not answering for a moment.

Both knew that the half-sentence Zhao Changhe had cut off earlier—he had never been willing to finish it.