The real young master thought he was hated by everyone

When Li Heng woke up, he was still groggy.

Today, he didn’t have classes.

Xie Duzhi had used the excuse of him being unwell to request several days of leave for him. According to him, the coming days would be busy—they needed to visit Lin Mo during the day and later return home to inform their parents about the kidnapping. However, Li Heng suspected that Xie Duzhi was simply worried about him being alone at school, fearing potential gossip that might emotionally burden him.

He thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night—that he’d either stay awake or be haunted by nightmares about the kidnapping, waking up terrified.

What he didn’t expect was to have an entirely different kind of dream.

Back in middle school biology class, their teacher had once given a serious lecture about physiological responses, emphasizing that things like morning erections or wet dreams were perfectly normal, signs of a healthy male body.

Li Heng knew this rationally. He had experienced such reactions occasionally in the past.

But those had always happened without him dreaming. This time, however, he woke up with vivid memories of the dream.

In his dream, Xie Duzhi kissed him. Starting at his lashes, the kisses trailed down to his lips, then lower, while deftly unbuttoning his shirt.

He had responded to the kiss, willingly. He had even reached out with his tongue, tangling it with Xie Duzhi’s, making those intimate, ambiguous sounds that resonated from his mouth directly into his ears.

It seemed he was the one who initiated the deeper kiss because he distinctly remembered that Xie Duzhi had hesitated for a moment, looking momentarily surprised, before responding.

Li Heng buried his face in his pillow, stiff and motionless. A moment later, he bent his elbows in frustration, trying to turn over.

Halfway through, he gave up and pressed his head back into the pillow, staying rigid as before.

He had tried so hard to forget about it, but the images were still clear in his mind.

If anything, the more he thought about it, the sharper the details became.

After all, no matter how vivid a dream might be, it couldn’t compare to the precision of reality.

Awake, he could vividly recall every feature of Xie Duzhi’s face, so much so that he could sketch it out if asked.

He pulled the blanket over his head in defeat, abandoning any pretense of distracting himself.

He tried to reassure himself that it was just a normal physiological reaction, and that yesterday’s ordeal had likely been too overwhelming. He had genuinely feared what Bai Ruan might do to him.

It was only natural for his subconscious to process his fear through a dream, swapping in someone he trusted to counteract the disgust and terror from the day.

Besides, it wasn’t as though the dream was that outrageous. They had only kissed—albeit passionately—and nothing more.

But that wasn’t comforting enough.

“You kissed,” a small but clear voice in his head teased. “And it was a full-on French kiss.”

Li Heng: …

He buried his head deeper into the pillow, letting out an internal, silent scream of embarrassment.

Soon, he would have to go downstairs for breakfast. Xie Duzhi was surely waiting for him.

But he didn’t want to eat breakfast anymore.

He couldn’t be sure that seeing Xie Duzhi’s face wouldn’t trigger inappropriate reactions, like stammering or blushing because of the intrusive flashbacks.

Just thinking about it made him want to find a hole and crawl into it.

Why had he dreamed about such things? Why was it with the one person he trusted the most?

The more he thought about it, the more embarrassed he became.

He tried to remind himself that he had more pressing things to do—visiting his roommate Lin Mo at the hospital and preparing for the evening.

Yet he couldn’t stop obsessing over the dream. No matter how much he told himself it was normal, every time he thought about “Xie Duzhi,” the dream came rushing back.

He couldn’t exactly pretend he didn’t exist during breakfast.

But they’d be together all day—on the way to the hospital, then heading back home in the evening.

Maybe he could just stay in bed, sleep until noon, and hope the dream would be replaced by another one.

Once awake, he could text Xie Duzhi, saying he’d meet him at the hospital and wait there for someone to pick him up.

The more he considered it, the more appealing this plan seemed.

He took a deep breath, ignoring the heat on his face and ears, and shut his eyes again.

He could dream about Pokémon instead.

But when he closed his eyes, all he saw was Xie Duzhi’s face again. This time, he found himself wondering what kind of Pokémon trainer Xie Duzhi would be and which Pokémon would suit his personality.

… He was doomed.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts—three soft but distinct taps.

It was Xie Duzhi.

“…I’ll be down in a minute!” Li Heng called out instinctively. The moment he said it, he wanted to bury his face in the pillow forever.

Bai Ruan’s words from the previous day echoed in his mind, spoken with malice and conviction.

—“He desires you, too.”

Perhaps remembering Bai Ruan helped him regain a shred of composure and logic.

Bai Ruan’s words were intended to scare him, to amplify his fear before acting on it. He had admitted to enjoying his terror and tears—it wasn’t a joke.

There was no way Xie Duzhi harbored that kind of desire for him.

After all, he was so good to him—a perfect older brother.

Even though he was quiet and reserved, speaking little whether alone with him or with the family, his actions were always thoughtful and gentle.

Xie Duzhi was like the cool, soothing breeze of early spring—quiet yet comforting.

He remembered his favorite games, his preferred flavors, and worried over things like late nights affecting his health or whether his allowance was enough.

How could someone like that have the kind of desires Bai Ruan described?

But then, why did he—who was simply cherished like a younger brother—have such desires for him?

In the dream, when Xie Duzhi kissed him, it had felt so… good.

Remembering it made him feel guilty and ashamed, as if he were some kind of degenerate.

Yet he didn’t find it disgusting. If anything, it felt… intoxicating.

He felt he was truly being a beast, screaming internally like a groundhog, thinking such notions were a defilement of Xie Duzhi—his kind third brother’s—goodness.

It’s perfectly normal for you to like him, especially considering how well he treats you.

That previously faint voice reappeared, inexplicably more confident than before.

—Wouldn’t it be abnormal if you didn’t like him? Do you treat anyone else the way you treat him—sharing secrets without hesitation, unconsciously thinking about him, focusing on him?

“I just have a bias toward Third Brother,” Li Heng weakly countered in his mind, lacking conviction. “…He’s biased toward me too.”

—Biased enough to be unable to accept the thought of him possibly dating someone else?

Li Heng wanted to argue that he simply couldn’t imagine it. But after some thought, he realized that he genuinely couldn’t accept the idea.

How strange.

Even if he admitted he liked Xie Duzhi in the way that meant wanting to form a family, rather than just maintaining a sibling relationship, when had this kind of affection started?

Was it their first meeting? No, it wasn’t—he had even felt a bit intimidated by Xie Duzhi at first.

Was it when he started school? No, that was purely gratitude and admiration, even on his birthdays.

Did it start when they began living together? That didn’t seem quite right either.

He found that he could distinguish which aspects of Xie Duzhi he liked as family and which parts were the kind he wanted to kiss.

Yet he couldn’t pinpoint when that line had been crossed.

It seemed sudden, yet also as if he had always liked him.

Perhaps this was what books described as…falling in love without realizing it.

He climbed out of bed in silence and quickly got ready, determined to erase any evidence of his disheveled thoughts. He brushed his teeth and washed his face at lightning speed before heading downstairs.

The good news was that after acknowledging his feelings for Xie Duzhi and metaphorically “breaking the jar,” his face was no longer red, and his ears weren’t burning.

His ear tips might still be a bit warm, and his heartbeat irregular—but if he were wearing a fitness tracker, it might have triggered an alert by now.

“…What’s wrong?” Xie Duzhi noticed that Li Heng had been staring at him without touching the toast on his plate. “Eat a little first, or you might get dizzy in the car.”

He had also ordered a Chinese breakfast for them, but the restaurant opened later, so he had it sent directly to the hospital.

If everything went smoothly, they’d reach the hospital before 9 AM—plenty of time to eat.

“I was just thinking about something,” Li Heng replied sheepishly. “…Ah Wei was saying since he took leave to care for Mo Mo, he’s concocted quite the soap opera in his head.”

Though the truth wasn’t far off.

Ah Wei’s imagined scenario involved Li Heng secretly harboring feelings for Mo Mo, foiling Bai Ruan’s plans, and then being kidnapped in retaliation.

In any case, after Li Heng had been unreachable yesterday, Wei Zhuowei had been genuinely worried—albeit for some absurd reasons.

“Do you like Lin Mo?”

Xie Duzhi’s tone remained calm. “I personally wouldn’t support you dating him. His personality has too many uncertainties.”

The truth was, Li Heng had simply been momentarily caught up, as if noticing for the first time how strikingly handsome Xie Duzhi was.

He was drawn to him.

Once again, it became clear to him that Bai Ruan had only said those things to provoke him.

There was no way Xie Duzhi liked him in that way—his voice was too composed, embodying the same steady demeanor he always had.

“…No, I like you.”

Li Heng had the sudden impulse to blurt it out just to startle him but held back, thinking it would be childish. Besides, Xie Duzhi probably wouldn’t take it seriously.

“I just want to help him, to be his friend,” Li Heng replied instead.

“…When I first saw him, I felt he was a bit like my dream self—lacking confidence and timid.”

Lin Mo was even more cautious than he had been at his most careful.

Xie Duzhi’s lips twitched slightly, as if he wanted to point out that even in dreams, they weren’t truly alike. It was merely a surface-level illusion.

Lin Mo lacked resilience and courage; he preferred submission and avoidance to confrontation.

He was nothing like Li Heng.

But Xie Duzhi held back. He couldn’t guarantee his own objectivity, not when the scales in his heart had long tipped entirely toward one side.

Once he started talking, it would be hard to conceal.

“You’ve already done your best to help him.”

After a moment of thought, he spoke again. “His family came to S City last night. They had a long conversation in the hospital, which should help resolve some of his issues.”

For some reason, Li Heng had the distinct impression that Xie Duzhi had just politely brushed him off.