The real young master thought he was hated by everyone

The grudge between Xie Sizhi and Xie Duzhi can be traced back to their first meeting.

Mrs. Xie held the hand of a small boy with a gloomy face, who didn’t look very bright, and said, “From now on, Du will be your younger brother. You should get along well.”

The small boy only said, “Hello,” without even addressing them as brothers.

The thought that such a person would temporarily replace their missing younger brother, Xiao Guai, and become his brother made the eleven-year-old Xie Sizhi furious.

He tried to persuade his twin brother to join him in teaching Xie Duzhi a lesson, but instead, he got a lecture from his older brother, urging him to get along with the new brother. He even said that once Xiao Guai was found, he would surely be happy to see such a handsome new brother.

… Wasn’t he handsome enough?

Furious, Xie Sizhi sneaked out to the garden in the middle of the night to dig up some earthworms. Under the cover of darkness, he quietly opened Xie Duzhi’s bedroom door and threw them all onto his bed.

The next day, his father made him apologize, and his allowance was cut for several months.

“Didn’t you know the house has surveillance cameras?” The little boy’s tone was incredibly annoying.

He was holding a thick book, clearly taken from their family library.

Noticing this, Xie Sizhi’s teeth ground together even more—an outsider could enter the library, but he couldn’t.

He snatched the book from Xie Duzhi’s hands, and dinner that night was a solid helping of bamboo shoots stir-fried with meat.

Adolescence hit the young Xie Sizhi hard and unexpectedly. Just like that, he one-sidedly started a feud with Xie Duzhi.

Perhaps because Xie Duzhi had grown up in an orphanage, he was small for his age. At nine years old, he looked like he was six or seven.

At first, Xie Sizhi could still laugh at him, pretending to look for him outside the classroom after school and asking classmates if they’d seen him. Then he would say, “It’s your fault you’re too short, I couldn’t see you.”

But soon, Xie Duzhi grew to be almost the same height as him, even slightly taller.

He lost the only thing he could use to tease him.

His rebellious phase came and went quickly, and as he grew older, the relationship between the brothers softened.

At the very least, they started to look like a family when standing together.

Things took a turn for the worse in high school, specifically when Xie Duzhi suddenly skipped a grade and joined their class.

Cool face, young age, great grades—and to top it off, he would help anyone who asked questions, explaining solutions clearly and in detail.

In short, his arrival made Xie Sizhi fade into obscurity, like yesterday’s news.

What made it worse was that the teacher arranged for the girl he had a crush on to sit next to Xie Duzhi.

Even though many years had passed, whenever he thought about his disastrous senior year, he still felt an indescribable resentment.

His high school experience never had a proper ending.

“…But skipping a grade is really impressive,” Li Heng said, not understanding why his second brother was gritting his teeth. He placed the large bouquet beside him and poured him a cup of water.

Plus, he had been able to read original texts at the age of nine.

With a bit of awe in his heart, Li Heng’s admiration for this older brother grew even more.

“That’s no excuse to use solving problems to win people over,” Xie Sizhi said angrily. “And the main issue wasn’t the problem-solving. The real flaw was that there was a classmate who secretly had a crush on him and wrote him a love letter. She even asked him for the answer to an equation that equaled 520 (a Chinese number code for ‘I love you’). And what did he do? He glanced at it and asked how she even got into high school.”

“…There was a love letter!”

“When he gave it back to her, in front of all of us, he told her, ‘You misquoted the poem. If this were an exam, you’d lose points.’”

Xie Sizhi took a big gulp of water. “Now tell me, isn’t that a serious problem?”

Li Heng was torn. On one hand, it did seem a bit off; on the other, this approach seemed a lot more considerate than outright rejection.

“Did the classmate really misquote the poem?” he asked curiously.

To be honest, Xie Sizhi couldn’t remember the exact details of the conversation anymore.

But seeing his little brother’s cute face filled with admiration and anticipation, he decided to make an effort to recall.

“I think it was the line, ‘Wishing to gain a person’s heart, to grow old together without parting.’ Something like that—a poem people use for confessions.”

“Second brother, the correct line is ‘Wishing to gain the heart of one person.’ Wanting someone’s heart would sound terrifying,” Li Heng corrected instinctively.

Xie Sizhi: …

“Is that the point?” Embarrassed, he raised his voice. “Xiao Guai, whose side are you on?”

“…On my brother’s side?” Li Heng quickly straightened up, hesitated for a few seconds, and then answered.

—In truth, he leaned more toward Xie Duzhi.

So far, the “flaws” Xie Sizhi had mentioned weren’t really flaws. Instead, they made Xie Duzhi seem meticulous and serious, even about the smallest things.

But saying that outright would hurt his second brother’s feelings.

After all, it wasn’t that he really thought Xie Duzhi had flaws. He just wanted to use these stories to close the gap between them.

It was better to just agree with him.

No matter what, he liked and respected both of them.

“Good boy~” Xie Sizhi’s mood visibly improved. His almond-shaped eyes narrowed into a sly smile, making him look like a fox. “Second brother will tell you one of the third brother’s little secrets.”

He gestured mysteriously for him to come closer.

Li Heng complied.

“He’s asexual,” Xie Sizhi suddenly said with complete seriousness.

Li Heng immediately exploded into a fit of coughing.

Amid his shock, disbelief, and perhaps a little sympathy, he heard his brother clear his throat.

“Of course—that’s just my guess. But I’m about eighty percent sure.”

Li Heng: …

He suddenly realized why some of the other family members tended to exclude Xie Sizhi—it wasn’t without reason.

“Second brother, spreading rumors is a serious matter,”he frowned unconsciously. “If you don’t have any evidence, you can’t just tell people things like that.”

Of course, he wasn’t “people,” and if it were true, he’d keep the secret.

“I *do* have evidence,” Xie Sizhi said solemnly. “The evidence is from that one summer during freshman year. Mom and Dad were away on a trip, and our older brother was on a study tour. I was at home playing video games.”

“…That kind of game,” he blinked, his words deliberately vague, “My roommate insisted I borrow it, and I couldn’t refuse.”

“Then Xie Duzhi came back unexpectedly, saw me playing in the living room, and told me the artist had drawn the anatomy wrong.”

“He also said the game was too loud and noisy.”

He had gone to great lengths to send everyone else out of the house, just so he could hook up the TV in the living room and play to his heart’s content, experiencing that thrill.

But Xie Duzhi walking in had almost shocked him to the point where he never wanted to feel any kind of thrill again.

“…,” Li Heng was at a loss for words.

He thought this really didn’t prove anything. At most, it only showed that Xie Duzhi didn’t like those kinds of games and was more realistic.

But speaking of which—

A vivid memory flashed before his eyes of Xie Duzhi’s determined face whenever there was an option to pay to win in games. Now, he had a sudden realization: he’d figured out what he wasn’t good at.

Xie Duzhi definitely couldn’t play video games.