After The Coquettish Fake Master Was Driven Away - Chapter 9
At the thought of it, Xie Jinning wished he could faint immediately, but his long-empty stomach began to churn and growl loudly, roaring relentlessly.
He had no choice but to resign himself.
Xie Jinning peeled off the outer layer with his hand, broke off a piece of the cornbread, put it in his mouth, closed his eyes, and chewed quickly. Before he could even taste it, he forced himself to swallow.
Seeing him with such a “prepared to die” expression, one would have thought he was swallowing poison, not cornbread.
Because of the mixed flour, the corn cornbread wasn’t as bright in color as what the villagers normally ate. Its texture was still rough, far from the refined flour breads, utterly lacking any real taste.
Xie Jinning’s throat was delicate; without thorough chewing, forcing it down felt like swallowing a stone. He struggled so hard that the muscles in his neck bulged, nearly choking him to the point of rolling his eyes.
He could barely survive eating a single cornbread.
Yan Yi once again updated his understanding of the pampered little master. Placing the edge of the bowl against Xie Jinning’s lips, he gently poured the porridge into his mouth.
“Uh… gulp, cough cough.”
Just swallowing the liquid left Xie Jinning clutching his heaving chest, pale and fearful.
His lips parted slightly, bloodied from biting them, the glossy shine making them look like a petal bitten into, juices glistening in the center with faint teeth marks.
Between his white teeth, a flash of tender, moist red flickered past.
“I… I’ve never eaten anything so disgusting.”
The coughing had already irritated his throat, and the cornbread “torment” left Xie Jinning’s throat burning, making speaking painful.
He shouldn’t have complained about the snacks on the road—they were dozens of times better than this. He felt helpless and wanted to cry.
And that stinking coachman—he bought all that food but didn’t save any for him.
Seeing his features scrunch up in discomfort, clutching his sore neck, Yan Yi’s large hand gently cupped his jaw, skillfully forcing his mouth a little wider.
Sure enough, deep in his worn throat, a patch of soft red, moist tongue suddenly appeared, unsure how to place itself, trembling slightly against his teeth before retreating shyly.
It was all flesh—why was his so tender?
Too delicate.
Xie Jinning struggled under his grip, nearly drooling, shaking his head in protest. His words came out slurred: “Wh-what are you doing? L-let… let go of the cornbread.”
“Don’t eat for now.”
Yan Yi released him, taking the cornbread from his hand, offering no explanation, and turned to leave with the bowl.
Xie Jinning looked at his empty hand, clenched it into a fist, and rubbed his slightly sore cheek.
The dull pain behind him tormented his reason. Grinding his teeth, he waved a fist at Yan Yi’s tall, broad back.
He was the one who made him eat, and the one who wouldn’t let him eat—truly capricious and unreasonable!
…
Holding the cornbread, Yan Yi could still feel the soft, springy texture in his palm.
The boy lay listlessly on the bed, clothing disheveled, pants lowered to his knees. His curved white undergarments framed a slender waist small enough to be fully controlled by one hand.
The boy grimaced as he swallowed, lips forced open, exposing the tender red flesh inside. Compared to eating, it looked more like…
“Snap.”
His hand was steady; the porridge calm. Yet the bowl quietly cracked along a fine seam.
Yan Yi snapped back to reality, stepping faster but without losing composure.
Too delicate.
A moment later, he returned to the room with the cornbread broken into small pieces, soaked soft in porridge, thoughtfully adding a spoon.
Xie Jinning glanced at the unappetizing food and said nothing further.
Starving, he carefully fed himself spoon by spoon, still eating quietly and neatly, without a single chew or slurp.
His small Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed; any spilled porridge was gently guided back with the spoon.
Sixteen years in the Xie household had ingrained elegant manners and refined temperament deeply into his bones.
But lying prone to eat was uncomfortable. His gradually filling stomach pressed against him. Halfway through, Xie Jinning furrowed his brows in discomfort and paused.
“Full?” Yan Yi glanced at the half-empty bowl, frowning.
Such a small appetite. If he didn’t eat more, how could his body recover? No wonder he couldn’t endure even a few slaps.
Had the Xie family really been raising him on dew and flower nectar alone?
“My stomach feels pressed and uncomfortable.”
Xie Jinning put the spoon in the bowl, tried to prop himself up on one hand to sit sideways, but the wound on his buttocks made it painful, and he groaned, eyes misting.
Now anyone could clearly see the source of his discomfort.
“I’ll help you…”
Yan Yi reached out, but Xie Jinning immediately protested.
The boy squinted at him, voice hoarse: “Who told you to hit me so hard? Now I can’t sit, can’t lie on my side comfortably, everything hurts no matter how I move. Happy now?”
Perhaps without realizing it, when he expressed grievance or dissatisfaction, Xie Jinning’s lips puckered slightly, glistening like ripe, juicy berries.
“Sorry.”
Xie Jinning had eaten, and Yan Yi could no longer dwell on his earlier “wasting food” mistake. His apology was more sincere this time.
The man, like a beast with its claws sheathed, remained cold in expression, but no longer intimidating. He said seriously, “It’s my fault. I’ll take responsibility.”
Xie Jinning froze.
The words sounded oddly like a line from a play, spoken by a heartless man…
He shivered, glancing at Yan Yi with slight resentment. “It was your fault in the first place.”
The injury to his buttocks was genuinely uncomfortable. More than an apology, he needed a solution.
Yan Yi thought for a moment. “How about standing up to eat?”
“…”
Xie Jinning was speechless. Even injured, he was asked to stand—did this man have a heart?
He spoke his mind: “Then I’ll eat meat.”
“Okay.”
“But not dried meat, and none of that black stuff,” Xie Jinning said. “I want fresh meat.”
“…Alright.”