After The Coquettish Fake Master Was Driven Away - Chapter 8

“Smack!”

Xie Jinning was stunned, his mouth agape and eyes wide in disbelief, momentarily forgetting to struggle—until a sharp, burning pain exploded in his backside, snapping him back to reality.

He… had just been spanked!

Not even his parents had ever disciplined him like this!

“How dare you hit me!” Xie Jinning was both humiliated and furious. Limbs flailing, he struggled desperately against Yan Yi’s knees.

But the man’s strength was several times greater than that of the detestable coachman. His arms were like iron bands, pinning Xie Jinning tightly in place.

Xie Jinning felt like prey trapped beneath the claws of a beast. All he could do was twist back, glaring with reddened, angry eyes, wishing he could turn into a blade and stab a thousand holes into him.

“Let go of me! Let go! How dare you, you rustic country bumpkin—ah!”

Yan Yi’s breath hitched at the sudden rush of fragrance to his face, but he showed no mercy, delivering another sharp slap.

“Smack!” The crisp sound rang out. Snow-like ripples of the soft fabric trembled, and through the thin silk, the faint pink marks of the strike steamed like morning clouds.

“Wasting food is wrong, and you must be punished.”

Yan Yi’s hands were rough from years of hard work; even through fabric, the coarse texture could be felt. Not only was his butt targeted, but the slender waist beneath may have borne the imprint of his palm as well.

The pampered young master, with his delicate, tender flesh, had only ever experienced light slaps on the hand with a ruler—not such a mixture of humiliation and pain.

Yan Yi’s warm palm pressed like a scorching iron onto soft flesh. Xie Jinning’s shoulders arched, eyes reddened, and his backside throbbed painfully.

Bl00d rushed to his head. Humiliation and shame overwhelmed reason. He stiffened his neck, voice quivering with nasal tones:

“What did I do wrong?! Those things—at home even the dogs wouldn’t eat them, ah!”

Another slap.

“Do you know that every grain of food is hard-earned? Now that you’ve returned, you should understand that you are no longer the precious young master of the Xie family. You should adjust your mindset and adapt quickly.”

As the boy struggled, black hair flying, a patch of pale neck revealed, Yan Yi’s gaze darkened. “Since you do not value food, I’ll take the place of your parents to teach you, until you understand.”

After three strikes, Xie Jinning’s rear was crimson, sweat pouring from his body. His undergarments clung tightly to his twitching, tender flesh, with faint red handprints visible.

He bit his lower lip to stifle cries, breathing rapidly, refusing to speak. The frustration within him collided violently in his chest, making him miserable.

Tears brimmed in his eyes, threatening to spill, but he stubbornly didn’t blink, forcing himself to hold them back.

Xie Jinning’s obstinacy flared again, as if shedding tears and admitting guilt would wash away sixteen years of ingrained habits.

“What right do you have to teach me?” he shouted hoarsely. “I don’t want you meddling—go away!”

“Xie Shu owes me a debt. With him away, I have the duty to help look after the Xie household,” Yan Yi said.

“Since you, Xie Shu’s child, erred first, and I am older than you, it is only natural that I teach you some principles. If you are unwilling, I will explain and apologize to Xie Shu when he returns.”

Reasonable and fair, he pressed the struggling boy to his knee again, raising his hand to strike once more.

Poor Xie Jinning was starving, having eaten nothing, with little strength. Even struggling with all his might was like a mayfly trying to shake a tree; his arms flailed weakly like cat’s paws.

With every strike, Yan Yi asked if Xie Jinning understood his mistake. His thoughts wandered slightly.

The boy’s weight was lighter than expected. His body was proportionate, shoulders narrow, waist strong, limbs long, yet the flesh beneath his hand was soft, bouncy, and full—perhaps with extra padding around the hips and thighs.

The intensity gradually lessened, but the first three strikes had been so powerful that Xie Jinning barely noticed—they still burned like fire.

At first, he bit his teeth, refusing to admit guilt, cursing Yan Yi for meddling, calling him a rustic bumpkin. With limited vocabulary, he repeated the same harmless phrases.

Until the pain turned numb, consuming all sensation. For a moment, he felt nothing at the back, as if it had become dead flesh.

Panic surged. Crying, he sobbed, “Waa… don’t, don’t hit me anymore!”

A cold voice came from above:

“So, do you know your mistake now?”

Mistake? Mistake? What mistake did he make?!

Was taking Xie Zhu’s identity a mistake? Was it wrong to think Xie Zhu was a hidden son and try to expel him? Was it wrong to try to escape instead of suffering being sent back?

The pent-up grievance of days burst forth. The tight string snapped, and Xie Jinning cried violently against the man’s knee:

“I won’t admit it! You might as well hit me to death! The Xie family doesn’t want me—I can’t survive anyway—just end it, hit me to death!”

Tears mixed with fear, grievance, and pain, falling like a thousand-pound weight. Yan Yi’s raised hand paused.

“Did I wish to swap places with Xie Zhu?” he sobbed hoarsely. “I grew up in the Xie household, loved and cherished by my parents, adored by my elder brother. How could I have known I wasn’t the true young master?”

“I didn’t know anything! They all kept it from me—why?!”

Panic and helplessness upon learning the truth, heartbreak from being abandoned, the stark contrast after regaining his identity—all bent Xie Jinning’s body in an instant.

His parents had named him “Jinning,” wishing him a life of serene beauty. They had treasured him since childhood, and he had always believed it.

Their love, and his brother’s affection, had been his confidence to be spoiled and willful. His status in the Xie family had given him boldness to act as he pleased, without fearing others.

This was why, upon seeing Xie Zhu as a threat, he had been so furious, wanting to drive him out.

Xie Jinning had naively believed that if Xie Zhu disappeared, everything would go back to the way it was: a happy, enviable four-person family.

He hadn’t realized that everything he had was never truly his to begin with.

Every day outside the Xie estate was like living in a nightmare, his attempts to maintain appearances repeatedly stripped away, exposing his vulnerability.

He was foolish, clumsy, impulsive—but…

Was Xie Zhu the only victim? Wasn’t he one too?

The Xie family had raised him for sixteen years. Were those years of affection fake?

They didn’t even give him a chance to repay them before casting him out…

“Why… why do you treat me like this?!”

The boy sobbed in fits, voice wet and muffled, utterly crushed.

Yan Yi’s palm slowly fell onto Xie Jinning’s thin shoulder, gently stroking it.

Suddenly confronted with such a change, this boy, barely sixteen, had fallen from the clouds to the mortal world. It was normal for him to be unsettled.

Yan Yi realized he had overreacted to the waste of food.

His heart calmed.

“Sorry.”

After a while, Yan Yi asked, “Are you… alright?”

“No!” Xie Jinning’s tears would not stop. He lifted his tear-streaked face, resentful: “You dare ask? I’m in so much pain!”

Seeing the remorse in his deep eyes, Yan Yi said, “I didn’t know the truth, so I was too harsh. I apologize. But wasting…” He paused. “…food is still wrong.”

Before he could finish, the boy choked, erupting into a coughing fit.

“Cough… cough cough… cough cough cough…”

Xie Jinning trembled, gasping for breath, shoulders jerking. Yan Yi immediately stopped and helped him regulate his breathing.

After small, shallow breaths, Xie Jinning finally recovered. Having cried, struggled, and been hurt, he was now nearly collapsed onto Yan Yi, utterly unable to speak.

Sweat glistened on his exposed skin. Hair stuck to his pale neck like delicate porcelain cracks, displaying a fragility that evoked tenderness.

Yan Yi carefully laid him face-down on the bed, then rose to pick up the cornbread on the table.

Since Xie Zhu left, Xie Jinning’s father still insisted on cleaning the house daily. Though the floor was clean, he wiped away the surface dust and brought the thin porridge to the bedside.

“If you’re hungry, eat some. There’s only this at home.”

Xie Jinning looked at Yan Yi, then at the food. His delicate fingers clutched the thin blanket, eyes darting nervously.

He had heard Yan Yi’s words earlier, but in his anger, he refused to respond. If this was all he could eat, he would reluctantly…

But the cornbread had fallen on the floor.

Had he really sunk so low that he was now eating food picked up off the ground? How was this any different from a beggar?

His lips twisted in grievance, and he looked at Yan Yi pitifully.

Tears still stained his face, cheeks wet, nose red. The skin around his eyes glowed like morning clouds, and his clear, damp eyes reflected Yan Yi’s figure like a pool of autumn water.

Like a wet, shivering raccoon dog.

“I wiped it clean.”

Yan Yi extended his long arm, bringing the food closer. Xie Jinning could easily take it, but he couldn’t bring himself to his lips.

The man watched “predatorily” from the side. Eat, and it was humiliating. Don’t eat, and he would starve.

Suddenly, a thought struck him. His eyes widened, and he gasped.

Wait… after this meal, would he never be able to eat like this again?!