The real young master thought he was hated by everyone

Until he saw Gu Mingyue, who had come to pick him up at the airport, Li Heng finally felt a slight improvement in the subtle mood that had lasted for days.

He entrusted his luggage to Xie Shenzhi and Xie Duzhi, who got off the plane a bit later than him. After explaining the situation, he put on his backpack and ran over to Gu Mingyue, who was wearing sunglasses and had a cool outfit.

According to the original plan, the four brothers were supposed to come together—during the National Day holiday, Xie Shenzhi happened to be flying to the capital, he and Xie Duzhi were on vacation, and Xie Sizhi wasn’t working. It was a rare opportunity to go out together.

But recently, Xie Sizhi’s whereabouts had been very mysterious. Without giving a clear reason, he just said he had something to take care of and couldn’t make it.

When Li Heng asked Xie Duzhi, he just smiled without saying anything.

Xie Shenzhi was even more straightforward, telling him not to worry about it and to get used to it.

“Second Brother was abnormal before,” his eldest brother said. “He’s always been this free.”

Although he wanted to ask his brother what exactly his definition of “freedom” was, he held back in the end.

Instead, he changed Xie Sizhi’s contact note, adding a small dove emoji after “Second Brother”—to signify both being stood up and freedom.

“I’ll head back to the hotel on my own tonight.”

Before Gu Mingyue dragged him away, he waved vigorously at his two brothers. “Don’t worry about me; have an early dinner!”

Gu Mingyue couldn’t help but laugh. “Why do you even have to say that?”

“Well, what if they really waited for me to finish dinner?” There was a buffet at the hotel in the evening, but it would end after a certain time.

He had arranged to have hotpot with Gu Mingyue at a place they’d mentioned before, and they’d probably eat until quite late.

“Then they can order takeout,” Gu Mingyue said while yawning. “…Or get the hotel kitchen to make something. They’re staying overnight for that much money; basic services should be covered, right?”

“Mingyue, are we going to the university next?” Li Heng wasn’t about to argue over such trivial matters. “I haven’t visited your university yet.”

He had only seen a widely circulated picture of Q University’s front gate online. This time, he’d even brought a camera, planning to take photos of their campus as well as the autumn scenery at B University.

“…Let’s go somewhere else first,” Gu Mingyue looked slightly uncomfortable. “I heard from some upperclassmen that a new cinema just opened, and it’s supposed to be fun. Besides, we haven’t visited the museum yet, right?”

The museum was currently exhibiting a famous historical landscape painting in the green-and-blue style.

“But if we go to the cinema and museum today, we might not have enough time?” It was almost noon already. “We should just go to the university first for lunch.”

“Why would you go to the cafeteria during the holidays?” Gu Mingyue half-jokingly complained.

“Because it’s convenient,” Li Heng answered instinctively. “Even if the dining hall is closed, there must be plenty of shops open around the entrance.”

As a top university, B University certainly wouldn’t lack visitors during the long holiday.

“The food around the school gates is usually affordable, and the taste shouldn’t be too bad.”

He showed Gu Mingyue the theory he had developed. “In order to attract students, the taste has to exceed the average while keeping good value.”

“Not bad, I think you have quite a knack for this, Brother!” Gu Mingyue gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “No problem inheriting the family business after graduation!”

For a moment, Li Heng wasn’t sure whether he was being praised or teased, so he silently reached out to flick Gu Mingyue’s forehead, feeling somewhat relieved, he still hadn’t grown taller.

“So, how did you finally handle it?” 

Out of the blue, Gu Mingyue asked, “Did that jerk drop out?”

“Mingyue, don’t use bad language,” Li Heng instinctively took on a big-brother tone. “It’s not good to swear.”

“Oh, I mean did that ‘Sb’—the 51st chemical element—drop out?”

He blinked, quickly adapting, “If you tell me that after everything that happened he hasn’t left school, then I’ll lose all respect for you, Brother.”

Li Heng knew Gu Mingyue would never lose respect for him. His own soft-heartedness was his business; whether his brothers would pursue something mercilessly was theirs. There was no conflict between the two.

It took Li Heng a while to remember what the 51st element on the periodic table was, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

Gu Mingyue had just used a subtle way to call Xue Ce an “idiot.”

Although Li Heng himself felt that Xue Ce was indeed a bit of an idiot, he would never say it out loud in public. He would use a more polite expression.

“…Well, that day, the advisor made him apologize, and I told the advisor that he should also apologize, because he didn’t investigate anything and just listened to what Xue Ce said, following his suggestion.”

He sighed. “Then the advisor’s face didn’t look too good. Sometimes, when I think back on it, I wonder if I was being too unforgiving.”

After all, he had his own position.

“That’s what I call ‘pressing your advantage’—you’re too principled,” Gu Mingyue said. “At our school, he would have ended up on the forums, facing enough pressure to come and apologize himself.”

“The school doesn’t belong to the advisor,” Li Heng seemed indifferent. “Besides, that advisor of yours had problems from the start; his bias was obvious from the beginning.”

“…It *did* end up on the school’s forums. Even the police came,” Li Heng remembered telling him about this. “It was noon, and no one had anything to do, so as soon as the police car parked under our dorm building, a post went up.”

“I guess I still haven’t congratulated you on becoming a school celebrity.” Gu Mingyue drawled, and got another flick on the forehead for it.

In reality, he had specifically gone to the forums to catch up on the gossip and even checked out the anonymous confessions board.

Even though he was far away in the capital, busy competing with senior classmates, he couldn’t help but keep an eye on this. After all, Li Heng was his best friend in the whole world and potentially the sponsor for his future projects.

One of Li Heng’s roommates later posted the whole backstory, including the outcome, online using an anonymous account.

The reason Gu Mingyue was able to identify the “helpful gossip enthusiast” behind the post was because Li Heng had forwarded him screenshots of their chat records.

Wei Zhuowei’s personal style was quite distinctive, with a natural sense of humor.

Plus, apart from that troublemaker “Sb,” everyone else involved was a victim. Whether it was the anonymous forum or other social media, nearly every thread was overwhelmingly one-sided.

Only on the anonymous board did people speculate maliciously whether the rumored “Young Master Xie” had planned to take down the other guy from the start and was merely waiting for the right moment—this time, “Sb” had walked right into the trap.

The highest-rated comment below read: *Well, doesn’t that make it even more thrilling? Looks so innocent on the outside, but inside… sesame filling.*

Of course, there were also so-called rational discussions questioning whether it was excessive to push someone into transferring just over a fountain pen and demanding an apology from a teacher. Some felt it was an abuse of power.

But those posts rarely got responses, and when they did, it was usually, “If it were me, I’d go even further and enjoy it all the way.”

Remembering this, Gu Mingyue glanced at the person next to him—who was supposedly a rice dumpling with a “sesame filling”—and decided to strike a deal with a senior from another college to get himself a S University student account.

Maybe it would be sugar, or maybe fruit—definitely not sesame.

He felt it necessary to stand up for his best friend and clarify the situation, to prevent more misunderstandings.

This wouldn’t be the first time he made a deal with a senior.

He even had a senior help him hack into that “Sb’s” account and make a copy of the chat history.

The funniest part, in Gu Mingyue’s opinion, was that even after groveling to get a transfer to a different college and change his major, “Sb” still had no idea who he had maliciously slandered that day.

He didn’t even look at the gossip posts on the forums, mistakenly believing he had accidentally offended a cousin or younger brother of some big shot surnamed Xu, simply because he saw the word “brother” in a friend’s contact note.

Gu Mingyue, who had just gotten flicked on the forehead, didn’t get angry at all. Instead, his eyes curved into his signature fox-like smile.

“Isn’t being a celebrity exactly what it is? Didn’t you say last time someone sneaked into your class just to sit in and secretly record you on their phone—I don’t even get that kind of attention.”

“I’m not a movie star,” Li Heng glared at him.

But he had to admit, after this playful interruption, the emotions he’d been stewing on were completely dispelled, and even his sense of disappointment had vanished.

“Anyway, the whole thing just got too big,” he said. “So it feels weird for people.”

Not to mention that lately, the advisor seemed inclined to make things difficult for him, always assigning him random tasks. And then there were his roommates’ subtle shifts in attitude, which made him feel uneasy.

Wei Zhuowei was still alright; sometimes he’d suddenly stop joking halfway, unlike before when he’d be completely uninhibited.

But Lin Mo seemed to be avoiding him. He used to actively recommend new shows to watch and ask if he had finished his homework.

Now, he barely initiated any conversations, and whenever Li Heng asked to borrow his notes, his behavior became odd.

It wasn’t that Lin Mo refused—he still handed over the notes as usual—but every time, before Li Heng could thank him, he would quickly snatch the notes back, mumble “no need to thank me,” and then focus intensely on the lecture.

They used to whisper a few words to each other during class.

His classmates’ attitudes were also a bit strange, in an indescribable way.

“You’ll get used to it,” Gu Mingyue said with the tone of someone who had experienced it all before. “It’s just that simple curiosity—like watching a monkey at the zoo. I was like that when I first enrolled; eventually, people stopped coming over to gawk.”

“I’m not a monkey,” Li Heng said righteously.

“And neither are you, Mingyue.”

Gu Mingyue responded half-heartedly with a few “mhm”s. “It’ll all blow over soon enough. Just ignore it.”

More importantly, he wanted to stop them from going to B University now.

He had already noticed that Li Heng was checking whether it was faster to take a taxi or the subway.

In fact, Gu Mingyue had already booked hotels for the next few days.

“The red leaves around are looking great right now. Why don’t we go there first to take photos? We can get there by subway,” he said nonchalantly. “Plus, in a few more days, the leaves will all fall, and it won’t look as nice.”