The real young master thought he was hated by everyone

In the following days, Li Heng continued to spend his time with Gu Mingyue and their tag-along, André, visiting all the fun places in the capital during the day.

Xie Shenzhi and Xie Duzhi were not always around. Sometimes, they joined Li Heng on outings, like climbing the Great Wall or visiting the Forbidden City. However, more often than not, when Gu Mingyue led them through alleyways and explored various places, the two temporary guardians were absent.

After all, Xie Shenzhi had official business to attend to on this trip. Even though Xie Duzhi was supposedly on vacation, he couldn’t just sit by while Xie Shenzhi busied himself.

Still, whether his older brothers were present or not, the sunny and enthusiastic André—like a giant golden retriever—seemed to have learned what it meant to be troubled. While he still called Li Heng “angel, angel,” he no longer tried to push Gu Mingyue aside, as he had when they first met.

André, who had always lost arguments with Gu Mingyue, found himself even more outmatched now.

Li Heng had no choice but to send frantic messages to Gu Mingyue when André wasn’t paying attention, asking him to tone it down a little.

However, upon learning that André had failed in his pursuit and was now suffering from diminished confidence, Gu Mingyue became even bolder. He began deliberately draping his arm over Li Heng’s shoulders or pulling him close, clearly intending to provoke André—though always when Xie Duzhi and Xie Shenzhi weren’t around.

He knew how to play it safe.

Each time this happened, André would wear a sorrowful expression, like a puppy abandoned by its owner. He even asked Li Heng if Gu’s family would treat him better, implying that he had no chance with Gu Mingyue.

“Of course!” Gu Mingyue answered proudly before Li Heng could speak. “My grandfather even wishes my brother were his real grandson. Anyone can have me if they want.”

Whenever they argued, Li Heng couldn’t help but feel that these two teenage geniuses had a combined mental age of no more than ten.

And yet, in other aspects, they always displayed a maturity far beyond their years, especially when discussing serious topics.

André mentioned he was considering dropping out of his current school to reapply for admission to another institution. He spoke of his mentor’s research focus and expressed regret that he might not be able to compete directly with Gu Mingyue in the same field in the future.

Gu Mingyue, on the other hand, gave a thoughtful response, saying that it might not be the case. “After all, physics still needs mathematics to express its fundamental laws. In our language, there’s a saying: All roads lead to the same destination.”

While Li Heng was still fretting over his midterm assignments and what to write for the next club proposal, these two were already pondering far-reaching ideas that could potentially impact the progress of human civilization.

“But I still prefer mathematics,” Gu Mingyue added after sharing his thoughts on string theory. “Whether or not we can solve these new problems or achieve breakthroughs that surpass our predecessors, I’ll always love mathematics.”

“And my brother already said he’d invest in my projects,” he added smugly, glancing at André as if showing off.

Li Heng: …

He decided to take back his earlier praise for both Gu Mingyue and André.

The biggest surprise of this seven-and-a-half-day trip to the capital, however, came on the last day.

Before leaving, Xie Duzhi gifted him a traditional courtyard house (siheyuan).

Among the many property deeds Xie Duzhi had given him as birthday presents—spanning various cities and countries—Li Heng hadn’t even checked if there was one in the capital.

The courtyard house was conveniently located near a ginkgo tree he had photographed earlier that day, its branches casting a shadow over half of the courtyard. The ginkgo, over a hundred years old, had witnessed history and provided shade to many figures now immortalized in textbooks.

“… So, next time we visit the capital, does this mean we don’t have to stay in a hotel?” he asked Xie Shenzhi.

The answer was still a hotel because it was much more convenient than staying in his own property.

In fact, not just Xie Duzhi, but Xie Shenzhi also owned property in the capital.

“Houses aren’t always meant for living,” Xie Shenzhi explained. “For us, they’re more like investments.”

Investments that were unlikely to depreciate anytime soon.

Li Heng learned something from this, though he wasn’t sure how much he truly grasped.

“So, Third Brother, with all these properties, can we use them to collect rent?” He asked Xie Duzhi seriously.

“They’re too scattered,” Xie Duzhi replied.

Most of the properties he gifted were luxury villas chosen for their scenic views rather than location. Even if they were rented out, finding tenants would be a challenge.

Then, Xie Shenzhi mentioned that a new development in S City was about to open.

“You could buy an entire building. That would make collecting rent easier,” he said, seemingly giving serious thought to the logistics. “It wouldn’t require much manpower to manage, either.”

“And if you’re short on funds, just ask me,” Li Heng’s eldest brother added. “Or once you’ve decided on a building, just call me. I’ll have my secretary handle it.”

“… Thanks, Big Brother, but I have school when I return and won’t have time to go property-hunting,” Li Heng politely declined. “And I only thought of collecting rent because you mentioned investments.”

He had no actual intention of becoming a landlord.

“Oh,” Xie Shenzhi responded, his tone neutral, though his visible disappointment was unmistakable.

“If you ever have other matters, you can call me,” he said after a pause.

A moment later, Li Heng heard him add, “You’re also welcome to visit the company. The work environment is great.”

Before Li Heng could reply, he heard a faint, almost imperceptible chuckle from Xie Duzhi.

“My office isn’t far either,” Xie Duzhi said. “Feel free to drop by.”

Li Heng couldn’t tell if his third brother was trying to ease the awkwardness for their eldest sibling or genuinely extending an invitation.

Realizing a detail he had previously overlooked, he suddenly felt a bit uneasy.

Both brothers were equally busy—if not, Xie Duzhi might be even busier.

He had known about his demanding schedule since returning home. Still, why was it that whenever something happened, the first person he thought of was always him? Even knowing how busy he was, he still made it a point to message him every day, keeping the “flame of friendship” alive.

No matter what kind of message Li Heng sent, whether it was trivial or serious, Xie Duzhi never replied with just a simple “Hmm” or “Oh.” Even if it was just a plain cat meme, Xie Duzhi would take the time to compare it with Xiaozhi and conclude that their chubby little cat was still better.

Li Heng often found himself amazed by his third brother’s extensive vocabulary, wondering how he managed to come up with so many compliments for an increasingly chubby cat.

It felt as if, no matter how close brothers might be, there was always an unspoken ranking of emotional closeness somewhere in one’s mind.

He didn’t dislike his eldest brother. It was just that, compared to him, Xie Duzhi occupied a more prominent place in his heart—a conclusion he reached after considering many factors.

For one, Xie Duzhi was the first family member he met in real life. Furthermore, because of that dream, he was initially very wary of him. So, the more different Xie Duzhi turned out to be from his expectations, the deeper the impression he made.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, from the very beginning, he had subconsciously paid more attention to him.

Thinking this, Li Heng suddenly felt a little guilty toward his eldest brother.

“I think our sports day is coming up soon,” he said after some thought. “I’m not planning to sign up for any events, so I should be able to sneak out and visit Big Brother at his company.”

Unlike in high school or middle school, where sports day meant no classes, university events didn’t come with such a break. Still, he figured he could use the event as an excuse to slip out.

He expected Xie Shenzhi to agree, but his eldest brother shot down the idea without hesitation.

“No.”

Xie Shenzhi sternly explained the connection between exercise and health, the importance of sports day to academic credits, and why he didn’t want Li Heng to miss this opportunity for personal growth—especially not just to visit him.

“If you sign up for any events, let us know,” he added. His tone suggested he might even take time off to attend the sports day and cheer him on.

Li Heng: …

There’s a reason I prefer Third Brother.

He thought this with calm resolve.

Still, on the day he returned to campus, before he could decide whether to bend the rules during sports day to visit Xie Duzhi’s office and borrow it for writing reports and plans, he was shocked to discover that his reputation at school had taken an unexpected turn.

From being “the rumored young master of the Xie family,” “Little Prince,” and “the true definition of a wealthy dad,” he had now become “you know who,” a figure everyone understood but no one dared to explicitly mention.

The reason for his transformation into this enigmatic presence was straightforward.

Xue Ce had taken a leave of absence for health reasons.

S University’s leave-of-absence policies were notoriously strict. Unless there were exceptional circumstances, the student and their family were required to personally submit all necessary documentation—usually a medical certificate from a hospital.

Xue Ce had been wheeled into the dean’s office with a bandaged head, sitting in a wheelchair, one arm reportedly in a cast.

Dragging his suitcase behind him, Li Heng walked to his desk under the half-awed, half-“legendary” gaze of his roommate, Wei, and took his seat.

By the way, since Xue Ce had been transferred to another dormitory in a different college, their room, which had one vacant bed, remained untouched. The now-empty bed had become a shared luggage dumping ground.

As soon as Li Heng sat down and pulled out his phone, he noticed that Gu Mingyue had sent him another post link. The title read:

[Li Tao, how likely is it that YKW orchestrated Ce’s car accident?]

There was a large “HOT” icon next to the title.

Li Heng replied to him with a deadpan smile emoji.