The real young master thought he was hated by everyone

Although Li Heng had received a share of the company’s stocks—just the dividends alone were an astronomical figure that could support any pursuit he wanted—he felt like his life hadn’t changed at all.

At most, Ms. Luo had started coming over often to chat and drink tea with Mrs. Xie since her return to the country, and Luo Zhi would occasionally visit as well.

By the way, the black Shiba Inu he had given them was eventually named “Little Shiba” and was now living in the garden. There was even a custom-made little villa on the lawn for it.

He couldn’t deny that he felt a bit awkward whenever he interacted with Luo Zhi because of Ms. Luo. Even though his former neighbor was always polite and courteous to both him and the rest of the family, every time he saw Luo Zhi, he couldn’t help but think of what Ms. Luo had said that day.

Regardless, the dog was innocent. Little Shiba, with its much better temperament compared to their cat, Xiaozhi, quickly earned a distinguished position in the household, second only to the Siamese cat.

As for the waves caused by his share of the company and the rumors swirling outside, Li Heng had only caught wind of them briefly before they quickly died down, as if nothing had ever happened.

Xie Sizhi’s friends—those older guys who always tried to drag him out for late-night races or concerts at bars—knew some of the inside story. However, before Li Heng had the chance to ask them for more details, something more urgent demanded his attention.

His university acceptance results had been released, and the admission letter would arrive soon.

After careful consideration, he had ultimately chosen the university over the major, barely making the cut to get into S University, though he was assigned to a relatively unpopular major: sociology.

“It’s fine, better than civil or surveying engineering,” Mrs. Xie actually breathed a sigh of relief, conveniently overlooking the fact that, from a purely employment perspective, those two more demanding majors had higher cutoff scores than sociology.

“Not necessarily. Doesn’t sociology involve fieldwork?” Xie Sizhi, having vaguely heard something about it, went online to check. “You go to remote rural areas to conduct in-depth, comprehensive observations, living with the locals, recording every detail, and studying the social structure of the area.”

“Let me see. How long do the internship reports have to be?” He couldn’t help but click his tongue, reading aloud the title of a report he found: *A Study of the Ecology and Farming Culture of Ethnic Minorities in the Southwestern Fieldwork.*

Hearing this made Mrs. Xie’s expression grow serious, and she even started to consider finding someone to help him switch majors.

“That sounds tough,” she muttered. “And in such a far-off place like the southwest? What if it’s near the border, and something happens?”

“Why don’t we…” she began, looking at her younger son with hopeful eyes.

Li Heng quietly swallowed back his original response of, *I think every major has its challenges and its easier parts. Mom, you’re just overthinking because you care.*

“But I find sociology really interesting,” he said instead, speaking at a calm and steady pace. “The college counselor we hired also shared some information with me, and typically the fieldwork doesn’t take you that far away.”

Mrs. Xie fell silent.

If her son liked it, she couldn’t force him to do something he didn’t enjoy.

“Is this field more developed abroad?” she asked after a pause, now thinking ahead to his university years. “Should we think about further studies abroad?”

“What if he decides to become a farmer and run a farm overseas?” Xie Sizhi teased. “Mom, stop worrying. He hasn’t even started college yet; why are you thinking so far ahead?”

He nudged her aside and started listing out loud, “You should focus on the graduation party. Not to mention family, we have to invite teachers from his high school, and maybe even from his old middle school. What about friends? And your business partners? Whether or not they come, we need to send invitations…”

“You act like you know everything,” Mrs. Xie scolded, shooing him out of her younger son’s room.

“Dear, how do you want to handle the graduation party?” she asked, this time gently seeking his opinion with a hint of caution. “If you don’t like large gatherings, we can keep it simple, like we did for your birthday, and invite the teachers separately.”

“I don’t know,” Li Heng answered honestly. “I think second brother’s not wrong. We should invite teachers, classmates, relatives, and your friends.”

The graduation parties he remembered always had a lot of people. When he’d attended his classmates’ parties, even neighbors were invited to join the tables.

“The question is whether *you* want them to come,” Mrs. Xie said, adjusting her hair. “Not whether we follow tradition or our own habits.”

“Wouldn’t that feel a little embarrassing?” Li Heng hesitated, his uncertainty showing.

Of course, he wanted many people to come, but he also had a feeling that his mother would make the party grand and extravagant.

“S University doesn’t seem all that impressive,” he mused.

Not that S University was really lacking in any way—it was already a fantastic school in his mind. Besides, even if S University wasn’t top-tier in rankings or overall strength, it wasn’t like someone who barely scraped by on admissions had the right to complain.

He just worried that an overly grand party might give people the impression he’d done exceptionally well, as though he’d been admitted to a top-tier school like Q University or B University, or at least a university of similar caliber.

But in reality, he had only just made it into the not-so-prestigious S University, which might leave people feeling like his family was making a big deal out of nothing.

At first, Mrs. Xie hadn’t understood where the awkwardness around S University came from. After a moment, she realized her younger son was worried about what others might think.

“But getting into university is something to be happy about and should be properly celebrated,” she said, smiling slightly. “How is it making a big deal?”

“You shouldn’t worry about how some other family’s children might have impressive degrees, or how many of your peers graduated from top schools. They may have taken a different path outside the standard college entrance exam,” she reassured him. “Even if there’s gossip, that’s none of their business. Your father and I earned our money fairly. Why can’t we throw you a proper party?”

Raising an eyebrow, she added, “Parents will always think their children are the best. If someone can’t understand that, it just means they’ve never been the subject of such care. Why should we bother with people like that?”

“Or do you think getting into S University is a disappointment?”

“No,” Li Heng immediately denied.

“Then it’s settled,” Mrs. Xie said cheerfully. “We’ll go ahead with the party.”

In her mind, this graduation party would make up for the birthday celebration they hadn’t been able to throw. Plus, there was still time until the admission letter arrived, and the summer had just begun, so there was plenty of time to prepare.

It would be the first time her youngest son appeared before so many people, and no matter how grand the arrangements, she wouldn’t feel it was too much.

“We should pick a date first, so we can book a plane and invite your old teachers and the director of the orphanage,” she said thoughtfully. “We need to serve them at least two banquets. You missed out on one last time.”

“Let me check the almanac,” she said, standing up to flip through the big calendar in the living room. “Once the date is set, we can think about the venue. What kind of style do you like? We’ll have the hotel design a concept for us to review.”

Li Heng didn’t even get the chance to suggest a simpler celebration.

The acceptance letter arrived one morning, with Uncle Fu answering the door.

He first handed the deliveryman standing at the door a glass of iced water, explained the situation, and gave him a small stool, inviting him to sit for a while and cool off with the house’s air conditioning. Only then did he go upstairs to remind Mrs. Xie, who was in the middle of a facial, to come down and record the moment.

Mrs. Xie, with her face still covered in the mask, grabbed the camera she had prepared earlier, slipped into her sandals, and hurried downstairs. Also being ushered down was Li Heng, who had been exercising the family cat with a cat teaser.

Noticing the cat hair on his clothes and the fact that the deliveryman had more letters to deliver, Mrs. Xie decided not to make him change or tidy up his appearance further. The summer heat made it unwise to delay anyone.

When the doorbell rang again, she pressed the camera’s record button, capturing the process of her youngest son opening the door and receiving the acceptance letter from the deliveryman. Later, she had someone professionally edit the footage to play at the graduation banquet.

Although they had already checked the admission results online, it wasn’t until he physically held the acceptance letter from S University that the heavy weight hanging in the boy’s heart finally settled. A sense of closure and a return to normalcy washed over him.

It felt as though the accident that had happened last summer never occurred. His life was back on track, as he had imagined it would be in his childhood: studying, getting into a good university. Even if he couldn’t become someone who would greatly contribute to society, at least he would be seen as reliable and trustworthy in the eyes of his friends and family.

As for that long, surreal dream in which he never made it to college—it now seemed as flimsy as a soap bubble, vanishing completely in the sunlight.

He decided not to dwell on why neither Mrs. Gu, nor his old acquaintances, nor some of his brother’s friends appeared in that dream. Instead, he focused entirely on looking forward to the upcoming university life.

His deskmate had also been accepted into S University. Although they were in different majors, they could still be schoolmates and hang out on weekends, just like before.

Many of his classmates, while not attending S University, had also stayed in the city, all within the same university district, making it easy to meet up.

But, as life often goes, not everything can be perfect or go according to plan.

Take his graduation banquet, for example.

Li Heng always felt that his idea of “simple” was entirely different from Mrs. Xie’s interpretation and what was conveyed to the hotel. The plan was revised again and again, and in the end, the final outcome was less satisfying than the original version.

Of course, there was a solution to this.

“It’s simple! We can host a different style each day,” Xie Sizhi remarked as if it were no big deal. “We can even change venues.”

“People do this for weddings all the time nowadays. Ever heard of a global wedding?”

Naturally, this suggestion was immediately vetoed by Li Heng. “This isn’t a wedding!”

“Both weddings and going to college are major life events. It makes sense to celebrate them on the same scale, right?” Xie Sizhi argued, trying to ruffle his younger brother’s hair. “You know the saying—‘A wedding night and—’”

Before he could finish, Xie Duzhi, who had just entered, sat down next to Li Heng without a word, effectively separating the two.

“We can invite different groups separately,” he suggested after quickly assessing the situation. “That way, it won’t be awkward.”

“And we can decorate accordingly.”

Li Heng: “…”

“That might actually work,” Mrs. Xie said, pausing in thought. “If we invite everyone at once, your classmates and teachers might feel a bit out of place.”

Thus, it was decided. The banquet would be held at one hotel over four days. One day for classmates and teachers, one for relatives from both sides, one for friends, and one for business associates.

Although in hindsight, Li Heng agreed that Xie Duzhi and Mrs. Xie’s plan made more sense, he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed when inviting his classmates and teachers, especially when they teased him about the elaborate setup.

“Your family’s graduation banquet is spread over four days. Won’t your wedding be even grander?” his deskmate joked, making it clear he was angling for an invitation. “Let me calculate—on the wedding day, picking up the bride…”

Before the conversation could delve deeper and give Li Heng premature anxiety, he quickly stopped his friend.

Because such a scenario wasn’t entirely impossible.

For now, though, he didn’t want to worry about his future self.

When the day of the graduation banquet finally arrived, he wasn’t as nervous as he had been earlier. He realized that, even in a different setting, teachers and classmates were still the same. The topics of conversation didn’t change just because the location did.

As for the relatives, the atmosphere wasn’t as awkward as he had feared.

The Xie family didn’t have many close relatives. His grandparents and other elders had mostly settled abroad and didn’t want to bother with long flights. They called him instead, congratulating him and advising him not to slack off in university. They also invited him to visit during the summer, mentioning that a mare of excellent pedigree at their ranch was pregnant, and they wanted him to name the foal.

The foal—and perhaps the entire ranch and surrounding land—was to be his graduation gift.

“Well, now you don’t even need to find an internship,” Xie Sizhi quipped, shrugging after the call ended. “Who knows, maybe you’ll graduate and become a farm owner.”

Mrs. Xie shot him a sharp glare.

That day, not many relatives from the Xie family attended. Most were distant relatives they hadn’t seen in years, each engaged in their own conversations. Li Heng was introduced to a few, exchanged some polite congratulations, and then returned to his own table.

On the other hand, there were quite a few relatives from the Bai family, but Li Heng merely greeted them briefly before being pulled away by Mrs. Xie—who didn’t seem too eager to have him mingling with them.

As for his maternal grandparents, they didn’t attend. Reportedly, they were off adventuring in some unknown jungle abroad, with poor signal. Even the messages sent to them remained unread.

Luckily, Mrs. Xie had anticipated this and had warned him not to feel upset.

Li Heng wasn’t particularly disappointed by such trivial matters, but he was a bit puzzled.

Among the relatives, he hadn’t seen Bai Ruan, and when Mrs. Xie was introducing the seven aunts and eight uncles, she hadn’t mentioned Bai Wei either.

After the banquet, a nagging unease led him to quietly ask Xie Duzhi.

“She’s working on a project out of town,” Xie Duzhi replied, his brows furrowed briefly before quickly relaxing again.

Bai Wei was now the head of the Bai family, so being busy with work was understandable. However, what puzzled Li Heng wasn’t really his nominal aunt but rather Bai Ruan.

He didn’t come either.

In fact, throughout all this time, he hadn’t appeared in S City once. It was as if that incident had truly been just an accident, and he had only happened to be in a disheveled state when the boy caught a glimpse of him.

But this didn’t align with what he knew about Bai Ruan, and it certainly didn’t match the information he had gathered. He was worried that his absence meant he was scheming something potentially harmful to him.

However, Xie Duzhi said nothing in the end. He merely reached out and helped him pick off the tiny glitter particles that had unintentionally stuck to his shoulders and hair, telling him not to worry.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on him,” Xie Duzhi thought for a moment. “They might show up on the last day.”

The Xie family and the Bai family had long-standing business collaborations. They weren’t just in-laws but also business partners.

“You don’t have to attend that day,” Xie Duzhi suggested, considering it the safest option. “Mom and Dad won’t mind.”

“But that would be rude. Even if the guests don’t say it outright, they’d feel disrespected,” Li Heng shook his head. “Besides, even if I don’t attend, Aunt could still bring Bai Ruan to our house. He’s family; we can’t refuse their visit.”

He couldn’t only think of himself. He had to consider the rest of the family, especially his parents.

Xie Duzhi was silent for a moment, wishing Li Heng would prioritize himself more. This kind of matter wouldn’t mean much to the rest of the family.

“Stick close to me tomorrow,” he finally said.

As expected, Bai Wei did show up, fashionably late on the last day of the banquet, wearing a glittering silver fishtail dress, surrounded by bodyguards. Cameras and reporters trailed her, giving the scene the flair of a Hollywood star’s arrival.

Bai Ruan and another tall young man stood on either side of her like protective escorts.

Li Heng overheard Xie Sizhi, standing nearby, let out a disapproving “tsk” with a rather sour expression.

“Bringing your lover to this kind of event, who’s she trying to impress?”

From the gasps and whispers among the young crowd around him, Li Heng quickly learned that his aunt’s male companion was a famous actor who had recently been dominating the headlines—taking up four out of ten trending topics on any given day.

The reporters and cameras following closely were there for him, and perhaps also for the newly-debuted idol, Bai Ruan, who had just made his group debut as the winner of a popular show.

“Go to the back room and say you’re not feeling well,” Xie Duzhi quietly instructed, subtly shielding him behind him.

“Auntie, this might not be the best place to let everyone follow you in,” Xie Shenzhi intercepted her at the door, though he didn’t say anything too harsh. “I’ll go get security.”

Bai Wei merely let out a soft, delicate laugh. “Thanks, Shenzhi, you’re doing me a big favor. They’ve been following me all day, and Xiaoyue couldn’t shake them off no matter what.”

As she spoke, cameras continued to flash behind her. The young man she referred to as Xiaoyue also smiled apologetically. “Sorry to cause you trouble.”

Bai Wei brushed past Xie Shenzhi, leaving him to deal with the reporters—or paparazzi—trying to squeeze inside.

Meanwhile, Li Heng was in the process of excusing himself to Mrs. Xie, claiming he didn’t feel well. Trusting his instincts, he didn’t question why he was being asked to leave and instead immediately followed the advice.

But Bai Wei was faster—she had deliberately timed her entrance after spotting her target.

“You must be little Heng. I can’t believe how much you’ve grown,” her voice was sweet, unnaturally polished, sticky like honey. “I’m your aunt. I held you when you were a baby.”

Her arm was still linked with her male companion, her smile warm and natural, but Li Heng could still feel how forced it all was.

He greeted her, calling her “Aunt,” but before he could finish excusing himself, she cut him off with a seemingly affectionate remark. “Oh my, I just noticed—you look so much like your mother. So beautiful!”

“You have such a similar vibe. You two might make a great pair.”

Her eyes gleamed mischievously as her smile deepened. “After studying so hard for so long, I’m sure you’re planning to relax this summer, right?”

Though the reporters hadn’t managed to get inside, they were still jostling with security outside, trying to stick their cameras through. Even so, as Bai Wei spoke, Li Heng noticed someone had already discreetly started recording on their phone, especially after she mentioned the famous actor Xiaoyue being on the show.

For the first time, he saw a look of unmistakable disdain and impatience on Mrs. Xie’s usually warm and kind face.

“Vivi,” she said, her frown deepening. “Xie Heng isn’t feeling well and needs to rest. Why don’t you and this gentleman, have a seat? The banquet has already started.”

“It’s not something urgent. You can ask his opinion later when he’s feeling better and see if he’s even interested.”