After the Delicate Fake Young Master Was Kicked Out

[Main story complete. Bonus chapters coming after the final settlement~] Thinking an illegitimate son had shown up, Xie Jinning stormed over to ruin the ceremony to add him to the family register, only to be told that the other boy was the real young master. As for him, he was a fake, born to a farming family. Notorious playboy Xie Jinning: Well, I'm screwed. After causing a scene in the ancestral hall and earning everyone's scorn, Xie Jinning was quietly sent out of the capital in a rickety old carriage. He tried to make a fuss and even tried to escape, but the driver was so dutiful that he made sure to deliver him “peacefully” to the poor village where the real young master had grown up. When he woke up in a house with nothing but bare walls, Xie Jinning was utterly despondent. He figured he might as well die and angrily smashed a bowl. But before he could starve himself to death, his backside was the first to suffer. Unable to break free, Xie Jinning glared at the man holding him over his thigh and spanking him, wishing he could turn his gaze into blades and stab a thousand holes through him. The pampered young master had never been spanked before. In pain and feeling wronged, he finally broke down and cried on the man's lap. How is this fair?! The fake young master, raised among riches and finery, has delicate skin, a slim waist, and weak legs. When he gets hurt, he can barely walk. In response, Yan Yi, the culprit, says, “I'll take responsibility.” But how did taking responsibility turn into him falling for the boy and whisking him away? … Not long afterward, late at night, Xie Jinning sees the man climbing through his window to share his bed. Even he can tell something is off. He thinks of Yan Yi as an older brother, but Yan Yi seems to want to be his husband?! Xie Jinning's pupils tremble. Is this right? Yan Yi, holding him close and taking a deep sniff: Absolutely. [A spoiled, “smart,” innocent and sweet fake young master, the adored top × a fatherly, devoted-dog “country bumpkin” bottom] Content warnings: 1. Both are each other's first. Weak top/strong bottom. The bottom pursues the top and dotes on him. Pay attention to the point of view and don't mix them up. 2. The top is a pampered darling. He grows, but never becomes very strong. 3. Everyone loves the top, but at first he's straight and only returns the bottom's affection. The bottom's feelings for him are overwhelmingly obvious. 4. Fictional setting with some farming elements, but this isn't a typical farming story. Please don't dwell on anything that seems unrealistic. 5. Simple writing and weak plot. A light, everyday-life sweet treat written to indulge my personal tastes. You don't need to tell me if you drop it. Muah muah muah. Coming soon: “After the Villain Falls [Quick Transmigration]” [World One: The Bankrupt Villainous CEO] “Take me out?” With his eyes hidden by his fringe, the man lounges against the sofa back, showing no interest in serving anyone. He blows out a puff of smoke at the blushing young man across from him, who can't help glancing at the open collar of his shirt. The young man coughs repeatedly at the smell of cheap tobacco. A flash of red passes between the man's pale pink lips. “Sure. Three thousand for the night.” He casually pulls his shirt collar open. Under the overhead light, the full swell of his chest looks like translucent satin. “Put the money here.” [World Two: The Captured Enemy General] “Hah… hah…” The man is a mess, strapped to an interrogation chair and drenched in cold sweat. His pupils still tremble from the aftereffects of the electric current. It's the third day of interrogation, and the deadline. If they can't get him to reveal the enemy's next target, then he, the enemy nation's famous Gold Star General, will be sentenced to death. “I hear the general is actually frigid.” Cold silver arcs glint in the interrogator's glasses. After putting on his gloves, he slowly lifts the man's chin with a dagger, then slides it down inch by inch, cutting through the fabric. “Hmm?” The interrogator raises an eyebrow, flicks his wrist, and slaps the man's tense stomach, tightened by the cold and the threat of the blade. “Careful, General. Blades don't have eyes. It'd be a shame if I damaged such a pretty design.” … World Three: The Immortal Sect's Treacherous Senior Disciple World Four: The Antisocial Doctor Who Created Mutants … #A fake-strong top. #“The man” in the blurb always refers to a top. There is more than one bottom. #Purely for personal tastes. If it's not for you, run!! Theme: No matter your background, you must rely on yourself.