The real young master thought he was hated by everyone

Before knocking on the door, Li Heng had spent a long time mentally preparing himself.

Strictly speaking, he felt that what he was about to do was overstepping boundaries. If he had to describe it, it would probably be something like “a dog meddling in a mouse’s business.” 

After all, the decision not to accept the 15% share and to redistribute it among the others was Xie Duzhi’s own choice. It wasn’t as if their parents had excluded him from the inheritance, treating him like an outsider in the family.

He didn’t accept the shares, probably because he didn’t need any so-called “capital to rely on,” to bide his time under the family’s protection until his wings were fully grown. He was like an eagle in the sky, self-sufficient. 

Yet Li Heng couldn’t help but care, especially after overhearing what Mrs. Luo had said earlier in the day, learning her opinion of Xie Duzhi.

Regardless of whether he had had that dream or not, in which he had experienced rejection and prejudice, being compared unfavorably to others and ignored or mocked in various situations—after learning about how people outside the family viewed Xie Duzhi, Li Heng knew he would still be standing here.

If someone was so indifferent that they could ignore the gossip around them and accept everything that happened to them as a matter of course, would that not make them incredibly pitiful?

Though people showed concern for him, that kind of concern was, in essence, another form of neglect.

Li Heng didn’t care what Xie Duzhi’s feelings were right now. He just wanted to be a little impolite and express his own feelings, to show through his actions that he cared.

“I know,” he said, taking a deep breath and raising his voice. “But I knocked on your door not to convince you to change your decision and accept the shares from Dad and Mom. I came because I have something to say to you.”

He wasn’t trying to convince Xie Duzhi, and he didn’t expect to be able to do so. That wasn’t why he had spent so long organizing his thoughts outside the door.

Xie Duzhi was momentarily taken aback.

“Whether it’s about the shares or what happened earlier today—even if you didn’t hear what Aunt Luo said and only caught what Mom said—I want to talk to you about it.”

“I don’t care what she thinks,” Xie Duzhi said calmly, his expression serene. “What matters to me is how you all feel.”

A long time ago, he hadn’t even cared about his family’s opinion. Back then, people had suspected he might have a personality defect and tested him both openly and covertly, some even attacking him for it.

But it wasn’t that he couldn’t understand emotions—he had simply chosen to reject them, classifying them as unnecessary.

Other people’s views and opinions fell under the category of things he didn’t need.

His concern—or rather, what he cared about—was so narrowly defined that there wasn’t enough room for unimportant feelings, whether of love or hate.

“That’s exactly why I came to talk to you,” Li Heng replied, his tone growing more serious, lips tightening in anger.

In fact, he was angry. “Third Brother, you can’t just assume that because you’re strong enough to not care, that the rest of us—like Mom, or me—can also be indifferent to these things.”

“…”

It took the young man a moment to fully understand what Li Heng meant.

“I should accept Dad’s gift,” he concluded. “That way, regardless of what people actually think, at least on the surface, no one would have a reason to criticize our family.”

Li Heng: …

For some reason, he felt like there was something off about that reasoning, but he couldn’t deny that it was technically correct. 

It was as if Xie Duzhi had twisted his point, but also… hadn’t.

“Third Brother, don’t say anything just yet,” Li Heng said, his face serious. “Listen to me first.”

He decided to say what he wanted without interruption. “When I was a kid, I used to watch this show called *Animal World*, and one time they talked about rhinos in Africa, and the birds that live with them—oxpeckers.”

Xie Duzhi knew about this—rhinos and oxpeckers were a classic example of symbiosis, a relationship often found in business as well.

He didn’t interrupt and continued to listen, piecing together the meaning behind Li Heng’s words as he went.

“There are always lots of insects around rhinos, and even though rhinos are strong and don’t care about them, the oxpeckers do. They help drive the insects away so the rhinos don’t get bothered.”

At this point, Li Heng paused, uncertain if he had remembered everything correctly.

But Xie Duzhi misunderstood his hesitation.

Seeing that Li Heng had stopped, the older brother thought he had finished what he wanted to say.

“Rhinos and oxpeckers have a symbiotic relationship,” he commented. “The folds in a rhino’s skin are prone to insect infestation or bites. Defensive measures like rolling in mud are often ineffective.”

“But for oxpeckers, the folds in a rhino’s skin are a feast. They gather on the rhino’s back, eating the insects and feeding themselves, while the rhino benefits from their presence and allows them to stay.”

In other words, the essence of a symbiotic relationship was mutual benefit.

And there was no mutual benefit in their situation.

“I was just using that as an example,” Li Heng said, feeling a bit annoyed and, oddly, a little wronged. “Besides, I hadn’t finished speaking yet.”

Xie Duzhi pressed his lips together, feeling a tinge of regret.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” he said, his eyes lowering slightly, hiding a faint trace of embarrassment.

He fell back into silence, no longer speaking.

Li Heng’s frustration had flared up quickly and dissipated just as fast. He realized this had all been his own doing, and he had no right to be angry with Xie Duzhi. 

But after cooling down, he found himself at a loss for words. The air between them became awkward, much like the first time they had met in the car, when neither of them knew what to say, and Xie Duzhi had behaved exactly as he was now.

However, they were no longer strangers cautiously sizing each other up as they had been then—no longer guarding themselves, even a little suspicious of each other.

They were close family now.

And yet, thinking this made him feel a bit ridiculous and even self-critical. 

Since they were such close family, why didn’t he trust him unconditionally, support all of his decisions without hesitation? Why did he insist on pushing his own feelings into the mix, making it seem like he had some right to say what he thought?

“I just think that whether or not you care is one thing, but it’s another thing that I can’t accept. I think everyone should like you, and no one should hold any prejudice against you.”

After a long pause, the boy finally spoke, stumbling slightly over his words as he tried to organize his thoughts.

No matter what, he had already come this far. If he didn’t finish expressing what he had come to say, if he didn’t convey what he wanted Xie Duzhi to understand, then all the time he had spent hesitating at the door and that earlier burst of courage would have been for nothing. Worse, it would only confuse Xie Duzhi and cause him unnecessary trouble.

“I want you to know that I care about you.”

“I don’t like how Aunt Luo, without knowing anything about you, just assumes things about how you would treat me. Even if you think her opinion is her own business, and that in the grand scheme of things, everyone’s relationships are independent from one another, and her attitude won’t cause any real conflict—just because *you* don’t care doesn’t mean *I* don’t need to care.”

He blurted out the whole long string of words in one breath, not bothering to check if his logic was consistent. Then he repeated what he had just emphasized.

“I just want you to know that I care about you.”

But to his surprise, Xie Duzhi understood.

Li Heng wanted to use his “care” as a way to prove his importance to him. And he hoped that through this concern, he could gain something in return—like a sense of being valued, of being cherished, even of being loved.

It didn’t matter whether Xie Duzhi needed this care; he had already assumed that he did.

And this level of involvement… Xie Duzhi didn’t reject it.

What had been a vague premonition now became a clear realization, no longer requiring any piecing together. It quietly surfaced in his mind.

If all Li Heng wanted was the satisfaction of showing concern without needing any feedback from him, then how he appeared in the boy’s eyes would no longer matter.

He wanted to appear flawless, without any shortcomings, yet he found himself unconsciously revealing his true self before him. He showed the parts of his personality that weren’t always so ideal, hoping they could coexist harmoniously with that perfect image.

People only seek more than their current role allows when they’re before someone they care about.

—He had already crossed the line.

This thought passed calmly through his mind, and yet he felt no regret.

He raised his eyes, quietly observing the boy sitting beside him, looking into Li Heng’s pure, sincere eyes filled with unblemished care.

In those eyes, his own reflection was staring back at him.

All the earlier confusion, missteps, and calculated hesitations now had a perfect explanation.

He had fallen for him.

But he was also painfully aware that his feelings were not appropriate to speak of yet.

It wasn’t about the setting or the atmosphere.

Mutual affection is always better than unrequited love, but only when that affection isn’t deliberately nurtured or guided, but arises naturally.

Li Heng had little experience with familial relationships, and Xie Duzhi didn’t want to blur the lines, allowing both family and romantic feelings to become muddled before they were clearly understood. He didn’t want to do something that would make them both regret it later.

He should, for now, keep a strict boundary between his role as a brother and his feelings as a would-be lover, hiding the latter away.

His awareness of his feelings couldn’t be undone.

But now was not the right time.

He would wait a little longer.

Just a little longer.