After The Coquettish Fake Master Was Driven Away - Chapter 40
“Tricks and nonsense.”
It was anger boiling over.
The old man had Yan Yi support the youth upright, then pressed along the acupoints of the chest center, inner pass, bl00d sea, and three yin intersection in sequence, before slapping his palm against the youth’s back.
Pfft.
A mouthful of dark bl00d spilled out. Xie Jinning’s tight, clogged chest loosened, his breathing grew steadier, and the ghastly pallor—so frightening just moments ago, as if he might fade away the next instant—eased.
When Yan Yi gathered him back into his arms, Xie Jinning felt unaccustomed. He shifted, wanting to sit up. But the instant he tried, his sore, weak muscles protested. He pressed his lips together, and in the end relaxed his back, letting himself sink into the burning warmth of that embrace.
Behind him—
The arm around his slender waist tightened, muscles taut and veins bulging, like a beast guarding its treasure, exuding an intense urge to protect—and to possess.
Last night’s wine had not truly intoxicated Yan Yi. He had only wanted to borrow its haze for one last indulgence, thinking that once sober, he would rein in his feelings and play the part of elder brother—just staying by Xie Jinning’s side.
But after being away only half a day, Xie Jinning was hurt again. Regret, like a tidal wave bristling with countless blades, drowned Yan Yi whole.
He regretted it.
“Ah Ning.” His throat burned with bl00d, his voice hoarse. “I don’t want to let go anymore.”
“You’re talking nonsense!”
Tian Xiaozhi’s voice was hoarse from shouting: “It wasn’t seduction at all! Brother Xie came to save me and sister!”
Li Dongsheng slammed his cane against the ground, silencing the whispers. He looked around at the gathered crowd and raised his voice: “Xie Jinning is our village’s teacher. He’s here to teach our children to read and write. I will not allow anyone to slander his reputation.”
“I, mmph…”
Tian Lao’er tried to speak, but a quick-witted villager had already yanked off a filthy harvest-season sock, balled it up, and shoved it into his mouth. The stench made his eyes roll back, his face alternating green and white. He gagged and heaved, but with his mouth stuffed full, he could neither spit nor vomit.
The moment the village head spoke, the crowd erupted.
“What’s this about a school? Did I hear that right?”
“A schoolhouse? In our village? This isn’t another scam, is it?”
“Didn’t the village head just say? That Xie fellow—what was it, Xie Nong’s son. He’s from the capital. No way he’s a fraud.”
The courtyard filled with noise. No one cared about Tian Lao’er’s muffled curses anymore; they were too busy asking about the school.
Seeing such excitement, Li Dongsheng breathed easier. His stooped back straightened a little.
He had called the villagers to discuss this very matter. He hadn’t expected Sun Xiaoshi to rush in crying about someone dying, forcing him to grab men and rush to Tian’s house. Nor had he expected to find Xie Jinning there, coughing bl00d from anger.
The boy looked frail to begin with—what if something worse happened? How could he ever explain?
The noise grew unbearable. Surrounded, he couldn’t even see how Xie Jinning was faring. Li Dongsheng raised a hand sharply. “Enough!”
Meeting the villagers’ eager gazes, he declared loudly: “From now on, the village will open a schoolhouse. Children aged five to ten, boy or girl, will be able to attend classes.”
“Wonderful! That’s wonderful!”
“Did you hear that, Ah Fu? Our child will finally learn to read!”
Nestled in the warmth of a human furnace, the haze clogging Xie Jinning’s chest dispersed like fog and cloud. Still, his breathing caught now and then. At once, a calloused hand pressed gently against his chest, soothing him with steady strokes.
“Hey, Teacher Xie just vomited bl00d earlier. Teacher Xie, are you all right?”
At the call of “Teacher Xie,” every gaze turned toward the two of them.
Startled, Xie Jinning’s pupils shrank. He abruptly slapped Yan Yi’s hand away and scrambled upright from his embrace.
He fussed with his robes, lips pressed tightly, trying to compose himself. But beneath his dark hair, the tips of his ears burned red, the flush spreading down his neck.
Whether it was from being called “Teacher Xie,” or from something else—he couldn’t say. He only knew he was mortified, wishing the earth would split open to swallow him whole.
In his panic, he had struck too hard. The sound still rang in the air, his fingertips tingling. He dared not look at Yan Yi’s face. His lips moved, barely audible: “That, I…” didn’t mean it.
He couldn’t bring himself to finish. Luckily, Yan Yi understood. He took half a step back, pulling some distance between them.
“Teacher Xie?”
“Ah? I—I’m fine.” Xie Jinning found his voice again. He waved weakly toward the villagers. “No need for such formality. Just call me Jinning.”
“How could we? You’re teaching our children—you’re a great benefactor to this village.”
“Teacher Xie, here, this is yours. Such a precious thing, you must take care of it.”
The villagers surged forward, pressing the embroidered pouch into his hands, peppering him with questions.
Voices came from every side, buzzing like a swarm of bees. Xie Jinning didn’t catch a single sentence clearly, didn’t know whom to answer first, and nearly grew dizzy. He turned to Yan Yi for help—only to find him gone.
Somehow, the man had been pushed out of the circle. The empty space was instantly filled with another eager villager’s face.
“Yes, it’s true, the school will open.”
“No, no, I’m not that capable. I’ll just be teaching basic reading and arithmetic…”
Yan Yi, shoved aside, crossed his arms and stood quietly at the edge.
In the crowd, Xie Jinning no longer showed the playful innocence he had at the Xie residence, or before Yan Yi. His panic lasted only a moment. Then a noble grace shone from his very bones as he smiled patiently and answered each villager in turn.
The youth stood out like a crane among chickens—tall, jade-like, his bearing serene. For Yan Yi, the sight overlapped with the image of him yesterday, blowing gently on his wounded palm.
Like a pure, flawless statue of Guanyin, unsullied, untouchable.
Such jade belonged high in a temple hall, worshipped, bathed in light.
But Yan Yi wanted to blaspheme.
His arms felt empty. His palms still tingled with the memory of a slender waist, taut yet trembling faintly at his touch…
“In broad daylight, control yourself,” came a dry voice beside him. “You’ll devour him whole.”
The old man had shuffled to his side, stroking his beard with disdain. “Red Luán star stirring—truly remarkable.”
Yan Yi’s brow twitched.
“But…” The old man pinched a few calculations, drawing out his words. “The boy may be pretty enough to stir the heart, but I wager he’s never once thought of such things.”
“What’s more, this goes against yin and yang, defies heaven’s order. Difficult, difficult indeed!”
He lifted his hand in a gesture as though flicking a dust whisk. But with his ragged robe and disheveled hair, he looked more like a charlatan than an immortal Daoist.
It was vague, but the meaning was clear. Yan Yi pulled back his gaze, glancing at him coolly. “With all your fortune-telling, did you foresee yourself nearly falling to your death today?”
The old man choked.
“A doctor believing in spirits and fate—you call that wisdom?”
“You—!”
The old man’s eyes rolled. “Forget it. Since you saved my life, I’ll let it pass.”
Meanwhile, seeing Xie Jinning firmly established as the village’s sole teacher, Tian Lao’er’s scheme collapsed again.
At last he managed to work the foul sock free with his tongue, gagging and retching. Taking advantage of everyone’s focus on Xie Jinning, he tugged at the loosened ropes around his feet and began inching toward the door.
But Tian Xiaozhi had never taken her eyes off him. The moment he moved, her sister’s earlier words rang in her ears.
“My mother didn’t seduce anyone, and she didn’t run off with another man.”
Her small frame erupted with astonishing strength again. Her gaze blazed, carrying not only her own fury but also Tian Xiaohua’s hatred.
“My mother was beaten to death—by him!”