After the coquettish fake master was driven away - Chapter 4

Midnight, the night deep and heavy with dew.

On the official road, the sound of hooves and rolling wheels grew closer, disturbing the night birds roosting in distant trees, sending them flapping in panic.

Through the darkness, a dusty gray carriage sped along. Soon, three branching paths appeared before it.

The coachman, wearing a bamboo hat, glanced at them and flicked the reins, steering toward the far right. But instead of entering the path, he drove across the grass, moving straight ahead. The wheel tracks soon disappeared into the undergrowth, leaving no trace.

Half an incense stick’s time later, several horses caught up and halted at the fork.

This was the main road out of the capital, usually bustling with carriages and riders. The tracks were chaotic and indistinct, making it impossible to tell which way the carriage had gone.

The group exchanged uncertain glances, unwilling to act rashly.

Moments later, another horse galloped up.

The rider wore a dark, embroidered robe, his face pale and clean-shaven. It was a young eunuch, his black official token hanging from his waist, signaling his Eastern Depot affiliation.

Seeing him, the others hurriedly rode closer.

“Reporting, sir! Your subordinates… we—lost him…”

The next moment, a whip hissed through the air, narrowly grazing the speaker’s temple and leaving a two-finger-long streak of bl00d.

“Spare me, sir! Spare me!”

“You lost track of a broken-down carriage? Pathetic!” Zhao Qing’s face darkened. “Beg all you want, but think about how you’ll explain this to the chief later.”

“Drive—”

Wang Zhihe glanced back, confirming he had shaken off the tail who had been following since leaving the capital. He snorted, “Damn it, a few eunuchs think they can catch me? Even if they melted down and reforged that thing, it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Compared with ordinary coachmen, the man’s build was taller and sturdier. His features were regular, with thick eyebrows and big eyes, though a scar at the corner of his eye gave him a bandit-like edge. He whistled a few times, took a bite of bread from his pocket, and resumed driving.

The carriage wheels rattled over stones, jolting the body, and a muffled groan came from behind—someone had likely hit something but soon fell silent.

Wang Zhihe turned toward the sound. A gust of night wind lifted the carriage curtain, and through the gap he glimpsed a young boy lying sideways on the carpeted floor of the carriage, his face toward the door.

The boy’s breathing tightened.

In the darkness, he was strikingly pale, each feature finely sculpted like carved jade, resembling a miniature statue. A faint flush under his closed eyelids, his delicate brows furrowed—he slept restlessly but was clearly exhausted. The carriage’s sudden speed had not woken him.

He muttered in his sleep, as if troubled by a dream:

“No… don’t…”

“I… I’m not…”

“Mm… father, mother…”

Wang Zhihe watched as a tear slipped from the corner of his eye, vanishing into his thick black hair.

He pulled back his gaze, unconcerned with the road ahead. Perhaps the bread was too dry; he had chewed it for a long time without swallowing, so he drank from a water bag instead.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he clicked his tongue. “Tch, such a pale guy… probably raised on tofu.”

The boy looked almost like a little girl, yet strikingly beautiful.

Grumbling, Wang Zhihe eased the carriage, letting it roll more smoothly.

After traveling through the night, dawn approached. Wang Zhihe yawned, casually stopping in a clearing to tie the horses to a tree. He stretched and rested at the carriage front.

An hour later.

“Ugh…”

Waking with a throbbing head, Xie Jinning rubbed his eyes, stretched, and cracked the joints in his stiff body. His dream had been a chase all night, leaving him sore, as if the nightmare had come true.

He closed his eyes, pounding his fists against his body, but then noticed something wrong.

Beneath him was hard—nothing like his soft bed. The fabric in his hands was coarse and short.

Wait… there were no carpets on his bed!

He opened his puffy eyes and realized he was sitting on the floor of a narrow carriage.

He had never been in such a simple, cramped carriage. He couldn’t straighten his legs, only curl up. Other than the wooden seats, there was nothing.

“Ah He! Ah He!” He frowned in displeasure, calling out. “Who arranged this carriage? My bones are about to break!”

No response. Xie Jinning rubbed his waist. The carriage wasn’t moving yet, so he stood and leaned forward to peek outside the window.

Dense trees and overgrown grass surrounded him. Completely unfamiliar. Not anywhere he remembered visiting.

Where was this?

Wait… wasn’t he at the Xie estate? How did he end up here?

“Yo, you’re awake.”

A sudden, unfamiliar male voice startled him.

He grabbed the nearest bundle, holding it tightly, and glared at the man at the door. Preemptively, he demanded: “Who are you? Where is this? Aren’t you afraid the Xie family will come after you?”

Was he being treated like a kidnapper?

The coachman, Wang Zhihe, yawned. “Young master, get out and stretch a bit, eat something. There’s a long way ahead.”

“I’m not asking for food right now!” Xie Jinning’s stomach had been empty all night, but he needed to understand his situation first.

Taking a deep breath, he mimicked the stern manner of Xie Zhaoming disciplining servants, staring with wide eyes: “You audacious scoundrel! Since you know who I am, why haven’t you sent me back yet?”

He lifted his chin defiantly, but his neck looked delicate and long, like a tender lotus stem.

Wang Zhihe ground his teeth, grinning with ill intent. “Threatening me?”

Xie Jinning’s eyes flickered with panic, but he held his ground: “If you bring me back, I’ll be generous and forgive your crimes.”

He added, “The Xie family will reward you richly.”

“Really?”

“Of course!”

Xie Jinning fumbled through the bundle and found a hard object—his childhood jade pendant. He hadn’t worn it for years but now held it tightly, offering it to Wang Zhihe: “This is my personal item, worth a hundred taels of gold. Take it as a guarantee. When I return to the Xie estate, I will repay a thousandfold.”

The white jade lay in his palm, delicate against his soft, flawless skin. He couldn’t tell which was more precious.

Wang Zhihe studied Xie Jinning, noticing the flicker of fear in his brows, and suddenly chuckled, then laughed out loud.

“I politely call you young master, and you actually still think you’re Xie Jinning, the second young master?”

Xie Jinning’s face stiffened, his fingers tightening on the jade. “What do you mean?”

“You must still be half-asleep,” Wang Zhihe said. “After all the commotion yesterday, not just me, but the whole capital—even the beggars—know the truth. Your famous title, ‘Second Young Master of the Xie Family,’ is just… a borrowed identity.”

“What?”

Xie Jinning froze, pupils dilated.

“You think why you’re here?” Wang Zhihe leaned closer, and in Xie Jinning’s stunned state, blew softly near his delicate earlobe. “Because the Xie family doesn’t want you anymore.”

“You—”

Xie Jinning covered his ears and stepped back, unable to respond.

His dry eyes brimmed with tears, the jade cutting into his palm, pain forcing him to grip tighter.

A thousand needles seemed to stab his chest, making it hard to breathe.

He remembered.

Ever since the obnoxious eunuch head in the ancestral hall spouted strange words yesterday—about “betraying the emperor,” “family execution,” and other nonsense—and stared at him with that creepy gaze… everything had changed.

Then…

He was told he wasn’t his parents’ biological child.

All that he had possessed for sixteen years belonged, in fact, to Xie Zhu—the child he had thought was the illegitimate son.

In reality, he was the one who should have been kicked out of the estate.

His breathing trembled, lashes glittering, and he bit his lower lip, forcing himself not to cry in front of this man.

Xie Jinning shook his head, his clear, melodious voice hoarse: “No… I don’t believe it. They couldn’t treat me this way.”

He pushed Wang Zhihe forcefully, like a trapped, desperate little beast, eyes reddening at the corners: “You’re lying!”

Wang Zhihe, seeing a flash of color in the stiff, fragile young master’s collar, quickly turned away as it was hidden by layers of clothing, a fleeting illusion.

He allowed Xie Jinning’s light force to push him back to the door, arms crossed casually.

“If you really think I’m so powerful I could breach the Xie estate and kidnap you safely to here, without a single guard noticing—well, think again.”

No Xie family guards could find him, but plenty of Eastern Depot lackeys were present. Lucky he ran fast, he thought.

The words struck like the final straw. Xie Jinning’s back collapsed, and he sank onto the wooden floor of the carriage.

Tears he had tried to hold back finally fell.

He still didn’t want to believe it, but a voice in his mind kept repeating: the man was right.

They really didn’t want him anymore.