The real young master thought he was hated by everyone

When he woke up, Li Heng’s head still felt a bit heavy.

The cat was curled up like a ball in his arms, both him and the cat covered by a blanket. The remnants of the sunset spilled over them, while outside the floor-to-ceiling window, the scene was gentle yet blurry, gradually deepening into an indigo blue.

It was almost six in the evening.

He climbed out from under the thick blanket and stared out at the sky for a moment.

He remembered that he had dozed off on the floor because he had indulged in some sweet drinks at lunch, which led to him feeling drowsy while grooming the cat.

Oh, and after drinking, he had stopped Xie Duzhi, who was about to leave, and said a lot of things.

Recalling that moment, he felt not only guilty but also a bit embarrassed.

Though he felt that he had presented his points logically and clearly, when Xie Duzhi asked him what he would do if he disagreed, the conversation had taken a strange turn.

No, it should be earlier than that, when he had boldly claimed his status as the “birthday star,” the topic had veered into odd territory.

He desperately rubbed his cheeks several times, unable to understand why he had said that.

…It left him unsure how to face Xie Duzhi.

What had made him think it was a good idea to confront him on his birthday? He could have simply sent a few messages on his phone to explain clearly; Xie Duzhi wasn’t the kind of short-sighted businessman who wouldn’t understand.

Would he hate him for this?

Unable to dismiss that possibility, he felt even more desperate as he squeezed the Siamese cat’s cheek, pulling at it a bit.

So how had he ended up lecturing and blaming Lulu for being spoiled? It was him who was really being spoiled.

The increasingly irritable Siamese swatted his hand away and flipped over to continue sleeping.

Underneath its belly, a little fat had developed; at least, if you didn’t look closely, you wouldn’t notice that it had once been out of shape.

Li Heng puffed up in annoyance and shook the cat awake.

The Siamese stretched lazily and jumped onto the cat tree, looking down at him as if mocking the foolishness of humans.

“Ungrateful little rascal,” he muttered as he got up, gathering the blanket from the floor.

Of course, despite his words, before leaving the room, he made sure to put some fish treats in the cat’s bowl to prevent it from going hungry.

To avoid awkwardness, he deliberately sat a little farther away from Xie Duzhi at dinner, wedged between Xie Sizhi and Mrs. Xie.

However, there were only six people at the Xie family dinner table.

Sitting far away inevitably meant they were still facing each other.

He hardly dared to look up during the meal. He hastily picked up a few pieces of meat, greeted everyone, and then excused himself to go upstairs to study.

“The company still has unfinished business, and I’ve finished eating,” he said.

Xie Duzhi also set down his bowl and left the table.

Mrs. Xie was first surprised, then smiled broadly, intentionally exaggerating her tone to tease him: “It’s only been a few days, and Xie Duzhi already has a little secret with his brother!”

It was unclear whether the person who had just gone upstairs hadn’t heard or was pretending not to. Xie Sizhi’s reaction was quite dramatic.

He nearly choked on his beef. “Mom, you’re joking, right?”

His face was full of disbelief. “Don’t you think it’s impossible for the third brother and the little one to be close?”

How could there possibly be any little secret between them?

“Don’t hold a grudge against Xie Duzhi just because he didn’t play with you before,” Mrs. Xie said, a bit chidingly, after he interrupted her.

“Li Heng isn’t trying to rejoin the exam; it’s possible that Xie Duzhi is tutoring him!”

“I don’t believe he remembers anything from high school,” Xie Sizhi retorted coolly, his tone firm, “And besides, Li Heng is clearly avoiding him.”

He trusted his keen observational skills as an artist.

Mrs. Xie didn’t see it as “avoiding” at all.

She only recognized that Li Heng was shy and had a thin skin.

Xie Shenzhi, who had been quiet, suddenly spoke up, equally puzzled. “Isn’t high school math just a simplified version of calculus?”

Why wouldn’t he remember?

As for English, it shouldn’t be that different either.

Xie Sizhi was at a loss for words.

If it weren’t for the fact that he bore a striking resemblance to him, he would sometimes doubt who was really the twin.

“I’m studying art, thank you.” 

He quickly interrupted, “Eldest brother, don’t you think that’s quite rude?”

“What?” Xie Shenzhi didn’t get it.

“What I mean is, I don’t have much in common with someone who hasn’t experienced youth to the fullest,” Xie Sizhi replied.

Mrs. Xie couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation. “You have the nerve to say that.”

“Who was almost failing and nearly got expelled in their second year?” 

“That wasn’t my fault; I was out of town and missed the exams,” he coughed lightly, reminiscing about those carefree days during holidays. “And didn’t I pull my GPA back up afterward?”

“That was because I contacted the dean of your department, made a donation, and asked him to enforce stricter attendance rules so you wouldn’t skip classes.”

She had no qualms about exposing him.

“If you really want to get along with your brother, set an example; Li Heng will naturally admire you.” She summarized, “Don’t always look for faults with Xie Duzhu.”

“He already admires me,” Xie Sizhi insisted. “Last time, he even said he wanted to see my trophies in the gallery.”

“Then maybe I should bring back those medals and certificates sometime. With so many rooms, we could just find one and turn it into an exhibition room.”

“Sounds good to me,” Mrs. Xie replied enthusiastically, “There really should be an exhibition room on the first floor.”

“I was just about to say that,” Mr. Xie immediately grasped his wife’s plan.

“I just thought of it too!” Mrs. Xie smiled, passing him the well-cooked meat. “We could repurpose that storage room.”

“…What are you two talking about?” Xie Sizhi couldn’t follow their train of thought.

Xie Shenzhi looked at him with pity, silently cooking a few pieces of beef, dropping them into his twin brother’s bowl.

The message was clear: just eat and don’t interrupt.

Xie Sizhi bit back the urge to throw down his chopsticks, his smile twisted. “The past Xie Sizhi is dead.”

Unfortunately, he was facing Xie Shenzhi, who never watched TV and rarely paid attention to social media.

“Are you planning to move your household registration out?” The eldest brother couldn’t quite understand his twin brother’s train of thought.

Xie Sizhi: …

This family had no warmth at all, except for his brother.

Meanwhile, the brother he was worried about and comparing to was currently working hard, trying to immerse himself in his studies to forget the astonishing words that kept replaying in his mind.

After mishearing over a dozen listening comprehension questions, Li Heng silently closed his book, deciding to give up the struggle.

Should he go find Xie Duzhi again to apologize and blame everything on the alcohol?

But what if he had already forgotten that little incident from earlier? Wouldn’t that make it seem like he was trying to cover up?

He let out a heavy sigh and ran over to turn on his computer.

Since studying wasn’t working, he might as well try to distract himself with something else.

For instance, he had a game recording from long ago that he hadn’t finished editing. Maybe while editing, he would get sleepy, and when he woke up, it would be a brand-new day, with all his previous worries fading away.

Of course, that was impossible.

But he thought that making himself tired quickly was a good idea; at least if he fell asleep, he wouldn’t have to think so much.

Even if he still felt troubled, those worries would be tomorrow’s problems.

While waiting for the materials to finish downloading, he logged into his account.

There were still many messages, likely remnants of the livestream ban.

The anonymous group was more active than he had imagined, with the messages having exceeded 999+ in less than a day.

He clicked into the chat log and was about to scroll through the messages when he saw a mention of himself in the latest messages.

【Banana: @Shan Zhu Little Green Tea is spreading rumors about you. You’d better go into the livestream with a small account and record it.】

【Banana: I heard some rumors today; they might come in handy later.】

【Banana: [web link]】

Shan Zhu was the alias that Li Heng had been assigned when he joined the group.

He guessed that this Banana was the super admin, Mu Hua.

Seeing that the link to his livestream was sent over, and out of genuine curiosity, he right-clicked to jump to the link, entering the livestream as a guest.

Although he had seen or heard the name Lulu in various places for quite a while, it was his first time watching her livestream.

To be honest, he didn’t find the person particularly good-looking, at least not matching the claims of viewers who touted them as having divine looks or being incredibly cute.

He even thought the filters were overdone, with excessive smoothing and exposure.

As for gaming skills?

Since Lulu wasn’t controlling the game character but chatting with the audience, he couldn’t tell for now.

She had a sweet smile, her voice soft and slightly coy, making him feel like someone was squeezing her throat as she spoke.

“Thank you to ‘I Really Want to Be Lu Bao’s Jiojio’ for the five planes… I’ve said it before, I’m livestreaming just to bring everyone happiness and joy.”

“…If you keep sending so many gifts, I’ll really turn into a parrot that only knows how to say thank you for the feed!”

“Ha ha, it’s definitely better to be recognized by more people and to reach more hearts! It’s just that some streamers use small accounts to spam gifts for their own popularity… the platform punishes them harshly when they find out.”

“I don’t want you all to make impulsive or vengeful purchases because of a moment’s anger.”

“Lulu just hopes you’re happy; when you’re happy, Lulu is happy too.”

Li Heng was too shocked to find words to describe the impact of this speech.

Yet the other person kept responding to the comments.

“Of course I was happy on my birthday yesterday, even though I didn’t make it to the homepage. I know everyone likes me, and the popularity contributed by those who support me is genuine; I hope next year, or even the year after, can be like this too.”

My audience is alive and real too?

“Yes, even if there are criticisms and surprises, next year will definitely be better”

Is it targeting if we both stream on the same day and play the newly released game…?

A mix of confusion, bewilderment, and intense curiosity washed over his face like a colorful palette.

He even forgot to put on his headphones.

Xie Duzhi, noticing that his door was ajar, knocked lightly three times on the frame and entered the room with some printed materials, hearing this sentence as he did so.

“Alright, little Lulu’s fans, don’t get angry for me; it will make me ugly. Anyway, the other side has already paid the price for their vanity and been punished.”

In an instant, Xie Duzhi recalled the scene he had accidentally stumbled upon in another livestream that day.

It was hard to judge which situation was more difficult to comprehend.

He sighed and moved closer behind Li Heng.

“I’ll take over,” he said, leaning slightly.

Li Heng was startled by the sudden voice, stiffening and unsure where to place his hands.

Xie Duzhi had already reached over, moving the mouse pointer to the guest’s default avatar in the upper right corner of the webpage, clicking the login button.

He typed in a string of numbers and letters.

Li Heng almost instinctively finished typing on the keyboard, his heart racing more erratically than the sound of the keys.

Xie Duzhi was logging in with the admin account.

Once logged in successfully, the webpage automatically refreshed.

He released his grip on the mouse, calmly stating a few reasons for the ban.

“Attacking and defaming others, maliciously provoking conflicts, abnormal popularity data.”

The residual warmth from the mouse still lingered, feeling slightly hot in his hand.

Looking at the newly appeared interface, Li Heng was momentarily stunned.

Before he could click anything, the warmth he had just felt enveloped him, guiding him to confirm the action.

The next second, the livestream screen abruptly went black.

Amidst a flurry of question marks, a bold red warning sign slowly emerged at the top of the livestream.

Red card, permanent ban.

In the suddenly silent atmosphere, Li Heng heard a brief, slightly amused chuckle.