The real young master thought he was hated by everyone

As Xie Duzhi finished organizing his prepared materials and closed his laptop, he entered the room to see Li Heng standing by the window, sighing to himself. Quietly, he shut the door and, choosing not to comment, acted as if he hadn’t noticed anything.

After a moment’s pause, he casually said, “There’s a ski resort not far from here. In a few days, maybe Second Brother can take you skiing.”

“He’s pretty good at it,” he added, a rare compliment from him, which indicated that Xie Sizhi’s skiing skills were genuinely impressive.

“I’ve never skied before,” Li Heng admitted. “Would it be troublesome to teach me?”

“No trouble at all. Skiing is quite simple,” Xie Duzhi replied. 

He was only bringing it up as a lead-in to his next topic, rather than genuinely planning for Xie Sizhi to teach skiing. 

“I might join you all,” he mentioned offhandedly. “The investment negotiations went smoother than expected, so I might not need to make an extra trip.”

Li Heng, following with a few surprised “Oh”s, finally registered what this meant and sounded delighted. “So, Third Brother, are you planning to come back with us?”

“Still undecided. If work isn’t pressing, I’ll stay here with you all for a bit longer,” Xie Duzhi replied, not wanting to make any promises.

As he heard this, Li Heng genuinely hoped that Xie Duzhi’s company would have a rare break. But upon further thought, he knew that was unlikely. He remembered that one of Xie Duzhi’s popular smartphone brands was especially favored by students. It had come as a surprise to Li Heng when he received a stock grant agreement, revealing that a brand many of his classmates used was actually a Xie family business.

Regardless of how long Xie Duzhi stayed, Li Heng reasoned, it was best to enjoy their time there. “We should have a good time, Third Brother,” he said earnestly. “People say this is an ideal place for relaxation, and a little relaxation might even improve your work efficiency once you’re back.”

He remembered how Xie Duzhi had been glued to his laptop, constantly working on emails. It was almost as if he had merely shifted his office to northern Europe. 

Suppressing a smile, Xie Duzhi nodded solemnly, as if he completely understood Li Heng’s point. “We have the whole summer, so we can fully enjoy ourselves before returning to China.”

Li Heng listened as he listed other countries and nearby attractions. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder. Having chosen geography as his elective, he knew of many natural wonders and cultural traditions from textbooks but had little experience seeing them beyond those pages.

It was past eight in the evening, yet outside was as bright as midday, with a soft, clear blue sky overhead. In China, it was already the middle of the night and a new day. 

“Have you been to all these places before, Third Brother?” he asked curiously.

“No,” Xie Duzhi admitted plainly.

Most of the world travel in their family was done by Xie Sizhi, not him. In Xie Duzhi’s eyes, moonrises over ancient temples, glimmering auroras above forests, and vast coastlines were all simply “scenery.” 

“I only know of them,” he added. “Second Brother talks about them when he comes back from his trips.”

“Then…” Li Heng hesitated, wanting to ask if he could join but not wanting to interfere with his work. 

After a pause, he finally decided to throw the question back to Xie Duzhi: “Where would you like to go?”

“Anywhere’s fine. I haven’t been to any of them either,” Xie Duzhi replied, omitting the fact that he had been to Iceland and some other European countries before.

Li Heng decided to do his research tomorrow and come up with some travel suggestions before discussing their plans in detail. He briefly considered delegating the planning to Xie Sizhi, who seemed well-versed in tourism, but dismissed the idea, preferring the anticipation of discovering new places on his own.

“We’re going to the farm tomorrow, so it’s best to rest early,” Xie Duzhi said, pulling the curtains to dim the room, which was lit by a single soft chandelier.

“Third Brother, if we were here in winter, could we see the aurora from the window?” Li Heng suddenly thought of this.

“Curious?” asked Xie Duzhi.

“A little. I’ve seen videos in school,” Li Heng said. “They looked beautiful, and I imagine seeing them in person would be even more breathtaking.”

But at this time of year, it was summer in the northern hemisphere, especially in high-latitude regions like theirs, where daylight lasted nearly twenty-four hours. The conditions were less favorable for observing the aurora.

It was mid-July now, and the aurora season in northern Norway would begin in September. By then, school would be in session, leaving only the possibility of a trip during winter break.

But what about going south? While it was summer in the northern hemisphere, it was winter in the south. The aurora was visible in Antarctica, and while arranging a tour there might be a challenge, he knew it could be done. However, he had little firsthand experience with southern hemisphere countries and felt less confident listing specific locations.

Finally, he laid out the potential drawbacks, leaving the choice to Li Heng: “We could see the aurora in Antarctica, but the surrounding landscape might be less scenic than here.”

He hesitated, torn between laughter and amazement at how seriously this had been considered. Yet, it felt oddly comforting, knowing his smallest thoughts were taken into account.

“If we did go to the southern hemisphere, maybe we’d see my grandparents—they’re on a research expedition in some rainforest somewhere,” Li Heng joked. “Or we could go to an African savanna.”

In a serious tone, Xie Duzhi replied with a simple “Okay,” clearly contemplating where to start a trip to Antarctica, perhaps from Africa or South America.

“Third Brother!” Li Heng suddenly raised his voice in nervous surprise.

Seeing his puzzled expression, Li Heng explained, “I was only kidding! Because you were so serious…”

“Anyway, that was just a joke. It’s too far, and way too much trouble.”

“It’s not too much trouble,” said Xie Duzhi, shaking his head.

“But it’s really far.” Li Heng insisted, “And if we want to see the aurora, we can wait until winter. Surely you’ll have time off during the New Year?”

At that, he looked directly at Xie Duzhi, realizing he had forgotten to ask, “Have you seen it before?”

Though he felt he might have been too forward in assuming, he thought it likely that, like him, Xie Duzhi hadn’t seen the aurora firsthand.

Xie Duzhi took a second, understanding Li Heng had wanted to include him. The realization brought a faint sense of warmth to his otherwise guarded heart.

“No, I haven’t,” he replied simply.

Li Heng knew that Xie Duzhi had never participated in the family tradition of visiting relatives, and this was his first time here. So when he was just imagining, he unconsciously assumed that the other person hadn’t seen the aurora either. But in reality, the aurora isn’t limited to designated spots in a specific country; it’s a natural phenomenon that can occur over a wide area. Xie Duzhi might not have seen it in Sweden, but he could have encountered it elsewhere.

Li Heng felt he might have been too presumptuous and a bit reckless.

He should have asked him first.

It was only then that Xie Duzhi realized that the young man had been considering him when he spoke about seeing the aurora.

It wasn’t the “I” that he had always been concerned about, but the “we.”

He didn’t know how to define this behavior. Calling it care or concern didn’t quite fit because the intention of “sharing” occupied most of it. What he could be sure of was that when Li Heng thought of him, his ideas were quite pure, without any hint of ambiguity.

His motivation was purely based on “the aurora is beautiful,” and nothing more.

Or perhaps the other party hadn’t even considered anything else; in terms of romantic experience, he was like a blank slate, and the owner had no intention or thought of wanting to paint over it.

“I haven’t seen it,” he began. “I was quite busy on a business trip at the time, so I just returned that day.”

The truth was he had stayed in Finland for several days. On one occasion, the secretary he was traveling with saw the aurora outside and even ran out of the hotel to take plenty of photos.

Xie Duzhi knew very well that for him, the difference wasn’t in the aurora.

“Then we’ll come back in the winter,” Li Heng said, and upon hearing this, he quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

He didn’t doubt that Xie Duzhi was lying, because he had never deceived him before and was always straightforward.

“In winter, I’m indeed more free,” Xie Duzhi continued. “We can go to the outskirts and see it in the forest.”

Unconsciously, he emphasized the word “we.”

The topic of travel should have ended there. Considering that they had to get up early tomorrow, it would be wisest to say goodnight and turn off the light after getting into bed.

But after chatting with him, Li Heng felt more energized.

He dawdled, moving from the window to the sofa in the room, casually tugging the blanket that was about to slip off back into the cushions, feeling a bit reluctant to end the conversation.

He wanted to keep talking and didn’t want to sleep.

There were many things he wanted to know but didn’t, and being in the same room made it convenient to ask. After returning home, he might not have the courage to do so.

Sharing a space would unconsciously reduce the distance between people, especially when they were already familiar with each other.

He completely forgot the slight anxiety he had felt before the other person entered the room.

“—Third Brother, did you all date in college?” Unable to resist his curiosity, he asked, then added, “I mean, it doesn’t have to be dating, but at least having some feelings for others.”

Besides, Xie Duzhi had previously said that he basically knew everything about his older and second brothers.

“I didn’t,” Xie Duzhi replied, slightly surprised that Li Heng would take the initiative to discuss romantic topics with him.

Although this topic was perfectly normal among brothers—Grandma Xie had also fussed over the younger generation for a long time after dinner—this made the young man feel an unusual kind of delight mixed with surprise.

“Neither did the eldest brother,” he recalled carefully. “But the second brother used to have a crush on a girl.”

Curiosity is inherent in everyone, and what he said was precisely what Li Heng couldn’t help but be curious about.

He was quite accepting of the fact that his eldest and third brothers had never been in relationships—after all, his understanding of romantic relationships was quite limited. He couldn’t really imagine them going shopping, helping someone carry their bags, or riding a carousel together at an amusement park, wearing those cute couple outfits.

However, these scenarios didn’t seem out of place when it came to Xie Sizhi.

He even subconsciously assumed that his second brother appeared to be the more childish one.

“Did  second brother pursue her? Did she say yes? What happened later?” 

Because Xie Sizhi was currently single, Li Heng was incredibly curious and fired off several questions in quick succession. “Why did they break up?”

“They didn’t break up,” Xie Duzhi began to answer from the last question Li Heng had asked.

As he spoke, he sat down on the edge of the bed, adding in a leisurely manner, “They never got together; the second brother didn’t pursue her.”

Perhaps because this relationship experience was somewhat embarrassing, Xie Duzhi remembered that Xie Sizhi had never actively brought it up with the family.

He only knew about it because his then-roommate—who was now the company’s technical director—was particularly gossipy, serving as a social butterfly among several well-connected universities in City S. He loved browsing various BBS sites and campus forums, often reviving threads that had been deleted due to access restrictions.

To borrow his words, he provided “a bit of laughter” to the monotonous college life.

Xie Sizhi was one of those sources of laughter—although the related discussions had been deleted by the then-heartbroken and humiliated second young master of the Xie family using his financial power, the data was still dug up, bringing joy to the other residents of the dormitory.

His roommate had merely done him a favor by not restoring the posts that contained good-natured mockery, allowing everyone to see them again.

Only Xie Sizhi thought that his family didn’t know about this matter. In reality, he remembered that Xie Shenzhi, his eldest brother, had likely heard about the gossip, but he hadn’t delved into the details as thoroughly as Xie Duzhi had.

The only ones still in the dark were their parents, who thought their second son was somewhat popular but currently had no thoughts of starting a family.

“Why? Didn’t the second brother like her?” Li Heng didn’t quite understand.

If you like someone, you should express it, let others know. He felt that this principle should apply not only among family and friends but also in romantic relationships.

“Because the other person already has a boyfriend,” Xie Duzhi replied.

He found it hard to believe that Xie Sizhi was merely watching from the sidelines, at most secretly confronting her boyfriend outside the school gate when they had a fight, admonishing him to treat her well, without even having the courage to send her a message.

This matter came to light because a friend of hers in another dorm happened to be in some ambiguous situation with the guy Xie Sizhi had confronted, and this was posted anonymously in a confession box, which the boyfriend happened to decode.

“…Then the second brother is quite pitiful,” Li Heng said, taking a moment to digest this shocking fact.

He tried to empathize with the feeling of “the person you like already liking someone else,” and he suddenly felt a subtle sense of guilt towards Xie Sizhi.

From his usual behavior, Xie Sizhi didn’t seem like someone who had been heartbroken and often made jokes about him. Many times, Li Heng had been quite casual with him, even instructing Xiaozhi to scratch him.

He felt a bit of remorse.

“Perhaps he still doesn’t have someone he likes now,” Xie Duzhi said.

He thought Xie Sizhi had handled it quite well, even describing it as upright—after all, the guy didn’t measure up to him in any way, and if he chose to interfere in that relationship because of his feelings, he might not have ended up with a satisfactory result.

But Xie Sizhi hadn’t done that.

“I think the second brother did the right thing, yet it doesn’t seem entirely right,” Li Heng pondered for a moment. “Interfering in someone else’s relationship is immoral, but in the end, he still couldn’t help but intervene.”

“What if he hadn’t intervened, and the girl he liked broke up with her boyfriend?” He couldn’t help but speculate.

This question wasn’t difficult to answer. He believed that compared to “making the other person happy,” Xie Sizhi preferred to see “the other person happy.”

It was just that Xie Duzhi didn’t know how to articulate this clearly.

He fell silent for a long time.

“This question is quite complex.”

“Once you have someone you like, you should be able to understand a bit of his feelings,” he finally said.

Although he really wanted to, and had a pressing desire to guide the other person, to let the seed in his heart lean toward him before it even began to sprout, allowing it to grow toward him freely and passionately, just like roses sprawling all over the railing in early summer.

He hoped it would ultimately point to himself, rather than just toward him.

“But I don’t have anyone I like right now,” Li Heng said, unable to suppress a yawn. “I just think the second brother’s behavior is a bit contradictory.”

“Does liking someone make behavior contradictory?”

However, he felt he might like someone who was very thoughtful, steady, and perhaps appeared less lively.

“I’m not sure,” Xie Duzhi replied, lowering his eyelashes and

unconsciously avoiding that gaze as he spoke.

He lied.