The real young master thought he was hated by everyone

“Xiangshan is on the way,” Li Heng said, “We can just switch metro lines.”

He seemed completely unaware of Gu Mingyue’s subtle reluctance, and earnestly calculated the route using a navigation app. “Mingyue, didn’t you say last time that there’s a dumpling place near your school that’s really good?”

“It’s closed down.” Gu Mingyue’s expression didn’t change. “The owner made enough money and decided to retire. The shop closed just a few days ago.”

In reality, he had ordered dumplings from that place just last night.

But it didn’t matter; next time Li Heng visited, he could always say that the owner’s retirement plans had failed, and he had decided to return to business. It just so happened that the new store didn’t work out, so he rented the original storefront again.

“Oh…” Li Heng looked a bit disappointed.

He had really been looking forward to it.

After all, Gu Mingyue had always gone on and on about how delicious the mackerel-stuffed dumplings were, sending him late-night delivery photos and asking when he would be on break.

The myth of a “culinary desert” was clearly a lie!

Before leaving, Gu Mingyue had sworn to him that they wouldn’t starve.

“What about the spicy hot pot?” 

Li Heng suddenly remembered another option and started searching through his chat history with Gu Mingyue. “You mean the one from the food stall, right?”

“Mingyue, can you take me to try that one?”

That way, if he went with him to have hotpot tonight, it would even things out.

Gu Mingyue felt his scalp tingle.

“…Which one? I think I saw a notice yesterday saying the owner’s niece is getting married, so the stall is temporarily closed. It probably won’t open for a few more days.”

“How about the Xinjiang restaurant…?” Li Heng tentatively mentioned another place. “You said the *dapanji* (lamb rice) was super authentic, and the *shou zhua fan*(big plate chicken) was really fragrant.”

Gu Mingyue began to regret all those late-night photos he’d sent while sleeplessly toiling through coursework.

“They went back to their hometown for the Nadam Fair. They had to attend the event,” he said decisively. “So, it’s not open either.”

“When students go on break, the shops around campus do too. Hardly any of them are open right now.” He hoped Li Heng would give up. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have suggested going somewhere else.”

“There’s a really good Southeast Asian restaurant near Xiangshan. We could go there for lunch,” he quickly glanced at his earlier notes. “Their green curry is amazing.”

“…Mingyue, I took a physical chemistry elective.”

Li Heng looked both amused and helpless.

With how much Gu Mingyue was pushing back, if he didn’t see the underlying reluctance, he might as well donate his eyes to someone who needed them more.

“Nadam Fair was a while ago,” he reminded Mingyue. “And it’s mostly celebrated by Mongolians, not people from Xinjiang.”

Nadam was a traditional festival of the Mongolian people.

Gu Mingyue fell silent, not expecting to be caught out by such a small detail.

“Mingyue, are you being bullied at school?” Li Heng began to worry when he didn’t respond.

He couldn’t think of any other reason.

And it was entirely possible.

After all, he had skipped a grade, been specially admitted, and even before officially starting, he’d already caught the attention of a renowned professor, who had practically pre-selected him as a protégé.

While he’d heard that B University’s mathematics department was a gathering place for geniuses and eccentric types, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t ostracize someone more talented—especially since Mingyue had made quite a splash by participating in a talent show over the summer.

Perhaps there were some old-school academics who felt that his behavior was tarnishing their reputation, bringing a bad influence into the department.

Gu Mingyue felt like knocking on Li Heng’s forehead to see what other wild ideas were lurking in there that he hadn’t even thought of himself.

“How could I possibly be bullied?” 

He pointed at himself, not sure whether to feel more amused or touched.

For once, he offered an honest assessment of himself, “…Brother, don’t you think it’s already pretty good that I’m not the one doing the bullying?”

“Then why are you afraid to go back to school?” Li Heng pressed on, confused.

His question went straight to the heart of the matter, and Gu Mingyue went quiet again.

“Well… it’s complicated,” Gu Mingyue sighed. He put his sunglasses back on, which made him look uncharacteristically solemn for a moment.

Li Heng froze, just about to suggest they go to Xiangshan directly, when the inexplicably solemn him gave him a pat on the shoulder, urging him to hurry up.

“Let’s go, we’ll get those dumplings and spicy hot pot,” Gu Mingyue said, taking off his jacket and flipping it inside out to reveal a different style.

Li Heng noticed that he was wearing a reversible jacket today; flipped over, it looked completely different.

“…Okay, this should be fine now.”

He heard Mingyue mutter to himself.

He led him to the dumpling shop, where they ordered two portions of dry dumplings to go. He picked up the takeaway boxes and brought them to the spicy hot pot stall, selecting ingredients with practiced ease and asking the owner to add extra sesame paste, but to skip the chili for the portion with frozen tofu.

“I can handle spicy food too,” Li Heng tried to match him.

“But the owner is from Sichuan—his chili is *really* spicy.” Mingyue blinked.

This was a Sichuan-owned Northeastern-style hot pot shop in the capital.

“Okay, never mind then.” Li Heng quickly squashed his urge to experiment.

He still remembered the noodle shop near their old high school.

The last time he’d gone there with Mingyue and another classmate, just a tiny bit of extra chili had him choking, needing three sips of soy milk per bite of noodles.

To be honest, he practically drank himself full that night.

“Mingyue, aren’t you going to take off your sunglasses?”

There weren’t many people in line, and soon the owner brought over two sizzling pots of hotpot, steam rising and bubbles popping in the broth, the edges of the clay pot sizzling.

The aroma was overwhelming.

Through the steam, Li Heng saw a layer of mist fogging up Gu Mingyue’s sunglasses.

“Well, I am a celebrity after all,” he said nonchalantly, mixing the spicy hot pot while explaining, “Eating out in public, I need to be mindful of my image. If someone snaps a picture, it could cause chaos.”

Li Heng was partially convinced but not entirely. Gu Mingyue’s moment in the spotlight did seem to have faded rather quickly.

The last time Li Heng logged into his Weibo account to share content from his school club, he noticed that some of the devoted fans who once vowed to support Gu Mingyue forever had already changed their usernames. Their profile pictures had also been swapped out for someone else.

Slowly stirring his spicy hot pot, he decided to trust his friend this once. Even if Gu Mingyue didn’t truly care about his fame, being exposed by a friend would definitely feel embarrassing.

Plus, he had already exposed him once today.

“This smells so good! Way better than the spicy hot pot by the high school,” he exclaimed.

“Of course! Chain stores can’t compare to authentic, one-of-a-kind recipes,” Gu Mingyue boasted, shaking his head with pride, acknowledging Li Heng’s taste. “This place has been around for nearly twenty years near the university. What do you think keeps it standing strong all this time?”

If it wasn’t the flavor, could it be because each dish here costs fifty cents more than elsewhere?

He hadn’t eaten much that morning, so now, with the dumplings and steaming spicy hot pot, he felt his soul was finally being comforted, and even the anxiety he’d been holding onto seemed to ease up.

 Maybe that curly-haired stalker really did give up on finding me.

“If you could handle spicy food, adding a bit of vinegar would make it taste even better,” said Gu Mingyue, leaning his head on his hand, sounding almost regretful.

But Li Heng didn’t catch any regret in his words, only noticing the sly, teasing smile that played at the corner of his lips.

There was a bottle of chili oil and vinegar right on the table.

“Even if you say that, I’m not going to add any.” Li Heng was not going to fall for such an obvious provocation. “I don’t want to end up drinking water just to feel full.”

Little Gu’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “After we eat, we can take a stroll around the university across the street.”

“We’re not going to Xiangshan anymore?” Li Heng checked the time, feeling like it was getting late. “It’s almost one o’clock already.”

Even though he was puzzled, he didn’t ask why Gu Mingyue chose to visit another university instead of his own.

“If it’s too late, we can go tomorrow. Maybe we can even hike the Great Wall,” Gu Mingyue mused. “Or, we could visit the National Museum first, then check out the city walls and the palace?”

“They say the Imperial Cats there are really popular right now. You might even get a good shot and ride the trending wave.”

“If I run into them, of course I’ll take some pictures,” Li Heng said. “I even brought some freeze-dried treats and canned food that Xiaozhi likes.”

However, he had no plans to post anything online to chase trends.

“Why not call Xiaozhi and video chat? If you really meet those cats, maybe he could help you communicate with them.”

Gu Mingyue’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

“Gu Mingyue, don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to,” Li Heng said, holding back a laugh.

Xiaozhi was a fickle, small-minded, and vengeful cat. For days after returning from Europe, it wouldn’t let Li Heng hold it—apparently offended by the lingering scents of dogs, horses, and sheep on him. 

Even through the screen, Xiaozhi would probably get so jealous at seeing him play with other cats that it would attack the camera and sulk with his back turned for weeks.

“Not at all!” Gu Mingyue feigned innocence. “I’m just trying to help you get the best and most natural photos.”

But before he could finish turning the tables, he was abruptly ambushed from behind, nearly sending his head straight into the pot of spicy hot pot.

“—Gu! I *knew* you’d be here!” 

An annoyingly familiar voice suddenly echoed, filled with a strange accent. “Someone said you always eat around here! I’ve checked several places already!”

“…” Gu Mingyue was dumbfounded.

He had taken so many precautions—wearing sunglasses, changing his outfit, sitting with his back to the entrance—yet this persistent shadow had still found him. Was this guy part bloodhound or what?

“I think you’ve got the wrong person…” Gu Mingyue gritted his teeth, trying to mask his voice.

“…Huh?” 

Li Heng watched as the blonde-haired boy, looking like a giant dog, flung himself onto Gu Mingyue, arms around his neck, a mix of uncertainty and confusion flashing across his face.

The boy had classic Western features—blonde hair, slightly curly, with eyes as blue as the ocean. He was taller than Gu Mingyue by a full head and much broader, making him look almost comical draped over Gu Mingyue like that.

Everything happened so fast that Li Heng’s brain hadn’t fully caught up. Judging by the conversation, though, it was clear that Gu Mingyue did not want to be recognized.

“Maybe you really have the wrong person. There’s no one named Gu here,” Li Heng improvised, deciding to help him out. “We’re just students visiting from out of town.”

Worried that the blonde might not understand, he switched to English to repeat the cover story.

Only then did the blonde boy notice Li Heng sitting opposite his target. Awkwardly, he let go, straightening up with a somewhat sheepish expression that didn’t match his size, and said, “Hello, sorry…”

“It’s okay. I hope you find who you’re looking for,” Li Heng said, his face feeling a bit warm as he continued the lie. “If there’s nothing else, we’d like to get back to eating.”

He noticed Gu Mingyue discreetly giving him a thumbs-up, nearly breaking into laughter at the last words.

Li Heng nudged him under the table just as the blonde boy lifted his head again. Somehow, Li Heng felt the boy’s gaze had a strange brightness to it, like the family’s Shiba Inu or the big farm dogs back home—full of eager anticipation, like a puppy excited to see its owner…or treats.

“Hello!” 

The boy repeated his not-quite-fluent greeting, pulling a Rubik’s Cube out of nowhere and spinning it around his fingers.

“My name is André Hugo…” 

He looked nervous, even in his native tongue, as if the words were sticky and hard to articulate.

“I feel like you’re the angel from my dreams. May I know your name, and start as friends.”

Before he could finish, an annoyed voice cut him off:

“*André!* If you want to get sent back tomorrow, just say it!!”

“…Gu, you’re here too?” 

The boy, who called himself André, looked stunned for a moment before breaking into a delighted smile. “I really thought I had the wrong person for a second!”

He seemed to completely ignore Gu Mingyue’s threat to send him packing and quickly returned his attention to Li Heng.

As he started circling him with eager questions, Li Heng realized his initial feeling wasn’t wrong.

From asking for his name to his hobbies and family background, André’s enthusiasm had a wagging-tail energy that reminded him of a big, friendly golden retriever.

When they finally finished the spicy hot pot, and amid Gu Mingyue’s mocking sarcasm and André’s indignant but earnest rebuttals, Li Heng pieced together the backstory.

André was that genius younger brother who’d scored even higher than Gu Mingyue in the Olympiad, despite being younger by a year—a sworn rival. 

His presence here was due to a simple reason: 

There was an academic conference in half a month, but his mentor planned to bring a senior member of the team instead of André, who had joined the project recently.

Proud André had secretly bought a plane ticket, hiding the trip from both his guardians and his mentor. He’d landed yesterday, gone straight to B University, but upon realizing he hadn’t exchanged currency, got mistaken for a troublemaker by the taxi driver and ended up at the police station.

Gu Mingyue’s mentor had to step in, act as a guarantor, and contact André’s mentor and guardians.

As a result, André’s account and scholarship were promptly frozen. 

With no money and a few weeks left before his mentor’s scheduled flight, he was currently crashing in Gu Mingyue’s dorm room.

Li Heng found it easy to understand why Gu Mingyue was avoiding him—it wasn’t hatred, just a simple matter of clashing personalities.

The only mystery left was why André’s focus had suddenly shifted from Gu Mingyue to him.

But at least there was a silver lining—they no longer had to sneak around the back gate or detour to another university. They could confidently enter B University.

Yet, as they wandered through campus, capturing the autumn foliage, Li Heng couldn’t shake off a strange sense of awkwardness.

To his left was Gu Mingyue, with the attitude of a proper royal, starting and ending every sentence with a cold “haha.” 

On his right was André, who was fascinated by everything, talking non-stop, with his metaphorical tail wagging ever faster.

I think that leaf looks beautiful too,” André said, linking Li Heng’s observation to a lengthy lecture, starting with Thoreau and ending with Shakespeare, all to emphasize how aligned their tastes and souls were.

Li Heng wondered if André had read *Dream of the Red Chamber*.

Especially since, in his defense against Gu’s taunts, André had said things like, “I must have known him in a past life.”

André’s Mandarin was halfway between fluent and awkward, so every time he called Li “Xie,” it sounded like he was saying “Xue” (snow).

By the time Li Heng left the campus gift shop, Gu Mingyue and André were still arguing, so he handed them each a bottle of mineral water. He sighed internally, predicting his dreams would be filled with theories he’d never heard of.

The argument had started when André, eyes shining, offered to help Li Heng apply to his own school, which was set in the mountains with views of squirrels and deer.

This triggered Gu’s sarcastic response, suggesting André worry more about himself than others.

“I heard someone’s professor is planning to move to another university to work on string theory instead of sticking with mathematics,” Gu Mingyue said with a fake smile. “Isn’t your school one that lets in easily but graduates with difficulty?”

André retorted that it wasn’t his professor’s connections but his family’s influence keeping him at the university. Gu Mingyue reminded him that his assets were currently frozen.

No matter how experienced André became, Li Heng doubted he’d ever beat him at verbal sparring.

Li Heng decided he’d text Gu Mingyue tonight and unilaterally award him a “Better Than André” prize.

André was deeply moved by the gesture of the water. With Gu Mingyue’s attitude as a contrast, he saw Li Heng as an even more angelic figure, practically glowing.

He didn’t want to argue with Gu Mingyue over trivial matters anymore.

After all, he knew this land was a mix of tradition and innovation, open yet surprisingly conservative, full of contradictions.

“I love this place,” he said earnestly. “I’m planning to settle here after graduation. I’m legally an adult and won’t be swayed by my family’s opinions. Their stance is theirs; mine is mine.”

Gu Mingyue clapped. “Well said. But you’re penniless and living off me.”

Li Heng chuckled, giving him a reproachful look to be more tactful—André was a foreign guest, after all.

“I’ll inherit my grandfather’s estate soon,” André defended himself, explaining his accounts had been frozen by family to pressure him into returning.

“When I was a child, I was kidnapped here—not in this city, but closer to the coast. So, my family believes it’s dangerous.”

Seeing Li Heng’s expression, Gu Mingyue decided to swallow his remark about “mild customs” not meaning “good security” for now.

André dismissed kidnappers who preyed on women and children as cowards, and Li Heng resonated with this, thinking of Mrs. Xie’s tireless search for lost children and the orphanage’s experiences with rescued kids. 

André listened intently as he spoke of brave children escaping traffickers. “My mom says I was brave as a child,” Li Heng added proudly. “I escaped and saved others.”

“…I was the one who got rescued,” André admitted, his expression drooping.

But he brightened immediately.

That night, as Li Heng returned to the hotel, a “golden retriever” dog-like André followed closely behind.

Gu Mingyue, who had followed them to the hotel door, sighed with a mix of exasperation and relief. “Don’t worry, brother, I’ll work hard to pack him off as soon as possible.”

“…Who’s this?” Xie Shenzhi, who was waiting at the entrance, looked confused.

Li Heng wasn’t sure how to introduce him, but André, guessing the young man’s identity from his looks and their conversation, spoke up.

“Hello, I’m André. Do you need another little brother in your family?”

He nervously turned his Rubik’s Cube, a habit when he was anxious.

“…I have money. I can bring my own dowry.”

He added thoughtfully.