Chapter 10: Avenging Yao Yao

When the young heir got angry, the entire Marquis Manor trembled.

Especially after he suddenly noticed the red marks on the little girl’s hand—deep indentations clearly from someone pinching her.

A murderous glint immediately flashed in his eyes.

But in front of Yao Yao, he didn’t erupt right away. Instead, he calmly took out a handkerchief to gently wipe her hands and face clean, then ordered Granny Li to fetch a plate of Dragon Beard Pastries from the kitchen to calm Yao Yao down.

When the pastry was placed in front of her, Yao Yao had just reached out to grab one when she suddenly withdrew her hand.

“Persimmon Brother, I’m sorry.”

Yao Yao lowered her head and apologized, feeling unworthy of eating the treat.

Xie Yixing’s brows furrowed ever so slightly. “Why are you apologizing?”

“…Because I got lost.”

“And?”

“This place is too big…”

She was just trying to give an excuse for herself. But to her surprise, Xie Yixing took her words seriously.

Later, when Madam Wei heard that her son had spent money to buy several small courtyards outside the manor—each planted with fruit trees that bloomed in different seasons—she instantly understood who he was buying them for.

Afraid he didn’t have enough funds, she even sent over more silver, worried the two kids might suffer.

Back to the present.

Xie Yixing forcefully shoved the pastry into her hands. “Eat. Only when you’re full do you have the strength to fight.”

Soon after, the people he sent out returned with the truth.

And when he learned that the one who made Yao Yao cry wasn’t a servant, but his own cousin, his knuckles cracked from the pressure of his clenched fists.

The nearby servants, already aware of the situation, couldn’t help but sweat nervously for the cousin.

Seriously unlucky. Of all people to bully, he chose the one person most important to the young heir.

Getting beaten up was well-deserved.

Yao Yao didn’t expect that when Xie Yixing said he’d “take her to beat someone up,” he actually meant it.

If she’d known earlier, she wouldn’t have saved two pastries on the plate—she should’ve eaten all of them.

—

It was a lazy afternoon. Madam Wei was reclining on a couch, listening to a maid read a romance story aloud. They had just gotten to the exciting part when the session was interrupted by urgent footsteps.

“Madam! Something’s happened! The Young Master took Miss Yao Yao to the West Garden to fight the cousin!”

Madam Wei instantly sat up, her eyes lighting up. “A fight? Did my son win or lose?”

The servant who came to report was caught off guard. After a pause, he replied, “The Young Master won… but the cousin…”

Anyone who saw the cousin at that moment would only say one word: miserable.

The young heir said it was just a “fight,” but no one expected he’d actually beat someone half to death.

When the Marquis heard of it, he didn’t even stop to put on his outer robe—he rushed straight to the West Garden.

He knew his son well. He wasn’t the type to pick fights.

For him to get physical, it meant his cousin had likely crossed a line—his bottom line.

And sure enough, the moment he arrived, he saw his son’s foot crushing down on his nephew’s right hand.

The courtyard echoed with howls of pain.

Xie Yixing’s face was expressionless, his voice ice-cold.
“You used this hand to touch her?”

The Marquis felt a chill down his spine and instinctively took a step back.

A sharp-eyed servant spotted him standing at the courtyard gate and cried out like spotting a savior:
“Marquis!”

The Marquis felt like he was being shoved onto a stage, reluctantly stepping forward.

Thankfully, before he had to act, Madam Wei arrived with two nannies.

The Marquis immediately moved behind his wife and whispered, “What should we do about this?”

Technically, he was head of the household.

But within the family, his son was the one person he couldn’t control.

Ever since the boy could think for himself, no one could sway him. Not the servants, not his tutors—not even his own father.

He, a once-feared general who had faced blood-soaked battles without flinching, had completely lost ground with his own son.

Rubbing the beard on his chin, the Marquis secretly decided: I’ll keep my doors locked and sleep in for the next few days.

Madam Wei, on the other hand, was used to these situations.

After all, he was her flesh and blood. No matter what kind of temperament Xie Yixing had, she could always accept him.

She turned to her shrinking husband and said calmly, “Children fighting isn’t a big deal. And don’t tell me your nephew did nothing wrong.”

She had already heard the full story on the way there—Xie Chengfeng had pinched Yao Yao’s arm so hard it left red marks. No wonder her son got so furious.

The Marquis fell silent.

Xie Chengfeng was a child sent over by the extended Xie clan. If he was seriously injured, the clan would demand an explanation.

But this time, Xie Yixing didn’t even have to speak—Madam Wei had already gone on the offensive.

“Don’t think I don’t know what the Xie family is scheming. My son is perfectly healthy—not ill, not disabled, not dead—yet they’re in such a rush to send over a boy? Clearly, they want to adopt him in and split our estate.”

“I turned a blind eye before, thinking that if the boy behaved and got along with my son, fine. But today, he laid hands on someone dear to my son—the one he cares about most right now.”

Madam Wei had always been fiercely protective.

And she genuinely liked Yao Yao. The plump little girl was just so lovable.

The Marquis didn’t dare utter a word. Normally, he’d argue back, but today—he was clearly in the wrong.

He whispered, “I’ll send him to the countryside villa to recover.”

He figured, as long as his son didn’t see him again, things would eventually blow over.

But Madam Wei was resolute. “No. Don’t send him to the villa—send him back to your Xie clan’s home.”

If she backed down now, not only would her son be disappointed in her, but it would also embolden the clan to push their luck even more.

The Marquis was stuck. Just as he was about to bargain with her, a quiet voice sounded from behind:

“Father.”

He froze—the hair on his neck standing on end.

“Xing… Xing’er.” He turned halfway and forced a stiff smile. “You must be tired. Want to rest?”

“I’m not tired.”

Xie Yixing looked calm. He walked over to a water basin a servant had brought and meticulously washed every finger, scrubbing away the blood.

Once done, a kitchen worker rushed over with a tray of hawthorn strips.

“Young Master, here’s what you asked for.”

Xie Yixing scrutinized the neatly arranged hawthorn strips on the jade plate and said coldly, “Too much sugar.”

The servant broke into a cold sweat. “I’ll bring a new one immediately.”

“Hurry.”

The servant scurried off.

The Marquis, trying to make small talk, said, “Xing’er, since when did you like hawthorn?”

After raising him all these years, this was the first time he’d seen his son ask for food.

He thought maybe the boy had taken a liking to something sweet.

But Xie Yixing simply replied, “Yao Yao ate too much. Hawthorn helps digestion.”

The Marquis let out a long breath.

So that’s it. He wasn’t craving sour treats after all.

Looking toward the stone bench nearby, he saw the chubby little girl sitting with her arms around her belly, frowning.

Then, another yelp of pain came from the boy on the ground, and Yao Yao’s brow furrowed even more.

She pouted and muttered, “That’s what you get for calling me fat. Persimmon Brother will stand up for me!”

Xie Yixing’s eyes suddenly darkened. He looked at her sharply.
“He called you fat?”

Yao Yao nodded quickly like a pecking chick. “Yes. He said I was fat, and even said a girl like me wasn’t even good enough to be a foot-washing maid.”

A deadly silence fell over the courtyard.

Servants who had witnessed the young heir’s fury before wished they could vanish into the ground to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.

Especially the maids and old women assigned to Xie Chengfeng’s courtyard—they were shaking in fear.

They watched Xie Chengfeng lying on the ground, whimpering, and couldn’t help but wish they could kick him too.

Why couldn’t he just study quietly in his room? Why go out and pick a fight?

Now he’d stepped on a landmine, and worse, was dragging everyone down with him.

Realizing no one was going to defend him, Xie Chengfeng tried to fake fainting.

But the next second—a bucket of cold water was dumped on him.

He opened his eyes, only to meet a pair of chilling, emotionless black eyes.