The real young master thought he was hated by everyone

“Heng, is your Xiaozhi and Shiba Inu okay?”

While lining up for lunch, Lin Mo asked him in a low voice, “What did the doctor say?”

They were currently in line at the cafeteria window.

Thanks to Xie Duzhi, when Li Heng returned to school, he was able to attend a couple of classes.

After lunch, he planned to borrow notes from Lin Mo to catch up on what he missed in the morning while he was absent.

The cat and the dog were the excuse he had given Lin Mo and Wei Zhuowei when he requested a leave of absence.

In reality, there had been no fight between them, and even if they did fight, it was usually just play. The dog always let Xiaozhi win; no matter how aggressively Xiaozhi swatted with its paws, the dog never fought back.

He chose to use that excuse rather than tell the real reason—especially to Lin Mo—because he was worried.

Maybe Lin Mo wasn’t doing it on purpose, and it was probably just a habit for him to confide in Bai Ruan, sharing bits of his life with no ill intentions and no malice towards him.

But it was hard for Li Heng to be as open as before with someone who might be an “observer” exposing his every move to Bai Ruan’s eyes.

Lin Mo didn’t realize it, but it was clear he leaned slightly towards Bai Ruan’s side.

“The doctor didn’t say much, just that we should be careful and not raise a cat and a dog together,” Li Heng replied without a change in expression. “…But we didn’t raise them together; it’s just that Xiaozhi likes to invade the dog’s space and bully him.”

“Seems like cats are always so free-spirited,” Wei Zhuowei said, not finding anything odd. Naturally, he thought of his own cat. “My cat is the same, ten pounds of attitude, at least twelve pounds of rebellion.”

“Not only does she love wandering where she’s not supposed to go, she especially likes jumping on my keyboard while I’m gaming.”

“So now my friends are used to me sending random gibberish in the chat, and they don’t even ask why anymore.”

Despite the complaining tone, Wei Zhuowei’s expression was one of fondness.

Clearly, he was missing his cat.

Li Heng imagined the scene and couldn’t help but laugh.

He had to admit, when Wei Zhuowei joined the conversation, he felt a sense of relief. If it had just been him and Lin Mo talking, he wouldn’t have shown it, but there would have been a lingering awkwardness in his heart.

He knew Lin Mo wasn’t to blame, that he was just a victim in all this. The truly despicable one was Bai Ruan.

But sometimes, people couldn’t help but feel a little resentful towards the victim too, wondering “Why did it have to be you?” and feeling a sense of betrayal.

He wasn’t to that extent, but it was hard to fully control such subtle emotions in a short time.

“Xiaozhi never bothers me while I’m gaming,” Li Heng thought about it, deciding to follow the topic Wei Zhuowei had started. “At most, It’ll curl up on my lap or sit next to me, watching the screen.”

“But if my second brother is drawing with the door open, Xiaozhi will sneak in and cause chaos. One time, he almost ruined one of his paintings.”

“…It’s hard to tell if this cat is rebellious or not,” he added.

“I get it now, that cat is just afraid of the strong but bullies the weak,” Wei Zhuowei said thoughtfully. “…Heng, your cat is truly free-spirited.”

“That’s because Xiaozhi was a stray before,” Li Heng said, ending the topic as he collected his meal at the window.

“By the way, Mo, I’m not going back to the dorm after lunch. I’m heading straight to the library. Want me to save you a seat?”

“I already saved one this morning,” Lin Mo said, scratching his head in slight embarrassment. “…Since you took a leave, I didn’t save one for you.”

“It’s no problem. There will be seats available at lunchtime, I’ll get one myself.”

Li Heng knew Lin Mo hadn’t reserved a seat for him, and he only asked to make sure he didn’t feel awkward about not being able to join the earlier conversation about cats.

He had to be mindful of his emotional state.

“Oh, by the way, I remember my second brother saying that fields like sociology don’t have great job prospects,” he said casually, mentally apologizing to Xie Sizhi. “I was thinking of enrolling in some other courses and taking a few certification exams.”

Wei Zhuowei, who had just opened a cold bottle of Coca-Cola and taken a sip: …

While it made sense, was Li Heng really the same as them?

If you can’t find a job, you can always inherit the family business!

“What kind of certificates?” Lin Mo asked, clearly interested.

Recently, he had been feeling inadequate, as if he couldn’t measure up to Bai Ruan. Even if Bai Ruan didn’t say it, the gap between them weighed heavily on his mind.

“Like accounting, and maybe some language certifications,” Li Heng replied with answers he had already prepared. “Programming is also an option, though I’m not sure I’d be good at it.”

“Programming might be better than accounting,” Wei Zhuowei said, rubbing his chin. “Considering how in-demand computer skills are nowadays, you can make good money freelancing if you get the hang of it.”

Of course, his own ambitions weren’t that high. He just wanted to prepare well for exams in his senior year, get a decent job, and enjoy a steady, comfortable life playing games after work.

He was just participating in the conversation because he was naturally chatty and couldn’t help himself. “What about languages—Arabic or Spanish? Those seem the most practical.”

“Japanese works too. I have a friend who self-studied Japanese and got certified. Sometimes he picks up paid translation jobs for manga or articles, enough to cover his monthly expenses.”

Though, as far as he knew, his friend mostly translated out of passion and studied Japanese purely out of personal interest.

“Ah Wei, is there good money in learning a language?” Lin Mo couldn’t help but ask.

Wei Zhuowei wasn’t quite sure—if the goal wasn’t just about making money, then it might still be worthwhile.

“I’m not exactly sure, but I can ask for you next time,” he said thoughtfully. “I should have other friends who majored in languages.”

“The main thing is that learning more can increase your overall competitiveness and make your resume easier to write,” Li Heng added.

That was something a teacher they had invited to their home said back when they were choosing colleges based on their exam scores.

The teacher had also said something about how society clearly lacked well-rounded talents, but Li Heng couldn’t remember the exact wording. Otherwise, he probably could have used it now.

“I still have an account with a tutoring institution from high school, and there are some free course vouchers left on it,” he said. “I checked today, and it looks like the vouchers can be used to enroll in courses for free.”

“We could watch them together,” he added to Lin Mo, “or you could just log in to my account. We can stagger the times.”

If Wei Zhuowei didn’t sense that something was off by now, he’d have to give up his reputation as a top-tier gossip lover.

Though he could be a bit slow at times, his “slowness” was a Schrödinger’s kind of slowness.

For some reason, even though Li Heng’s unusual behavior was glaringly obvious to him, Lin Mo still seemed completely oblivious, just asking if it was really okay to use his account like that.

Whatever the problem was, it clearly wasn’t about the account itself.

As they parted ways—Wei Zhuowei going back to the dorms after lunch—he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. He couldn’t resist opening a chat window.

[awsl: (Picture of someone about to say something but hesitating)]

When Li Heng received Wei Zhuowei’s message, he was replying to Gu Mingyue, while also trying to comfort their advisor who was contemplating a career change to string theory after a colleague left.

The three of them had a small group chat—created by Gu Mingyue. he had firmly forbidden André from sending private friend requests, insisting that any communication go through the group chat.

Maybe last time’s incident hit him hard because André actually listened and hadn’t tried to add him outside the group chat since.

He replied to Wei Zhuowei with a question mark.

[awsl: qaq Heng, I feel like you and Mo are both acting weird (Picture of someone probing carefully)]

[awsl: I just… I never expected to hear you talk about enrolling in courses and getting certified, something so goal-oriented]

Wei Zhuowei even followed it up with a long string of QAQ emojis.

Li Heng: …

He wasn’t sure whether to say that Wei Zhuowei was sharp or not.

[Little Meow Meow: …Oh? Is Mo acting strange?]

[awsl: How to put it… It feels like he’s stuck in his own world?]

Wei Zhuowei couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

He felt that Lin Mo’s strangeness wasn’t sudden; it was the kind of thing he would usually overlook—at most, he’d seem like a bit of a lovesick fool, slightly annoying but harmless. But once he became aware of it, it started to feel odd.

If it were the old Lin Mo, he thought Lin Mo’s first concern would have been about whether he could handle the workload or if planning ahead in his first year was too hasty.

Lin Mo had always been quite timid.

But thinking back, he had indeed become a lot more proactive recently.

[awsl: I can’t explain it.]

Li Heng hesitated for a moment but decided to tell him.

Having someone else to help could only be a good thing.

[Little Meow Meow: Ah Wei, come to the plaza in front of the library. I have something to tell you.]

Though confused, Wei Zhuowei got up from his bed and headed to the plaza, his mind full of questions.

Li Heng was waiting on a bench. When he saw Wei Zhuowei approaching, he waved at him from a distance.

He didn’t mention any of his personal entanglements with Bai Ruan. Instead, he just said that as a relative, he had heard that Bai Ruan’s reputation wasn’t as good as it seemed and felt uneasy, so he looked into it.

“No way, PUA?” Wei Zhuowei said, stunned. “Is that for real?”

“We should tell Mo that his boyfriend isn’t who he seems, that he needs to be careful not to fall into an emotional trap… That explains why, even though you two are cousins, you’re so distant.”

He even started mentally piecing together some unnecessary details, linking together the clues on his own. “Now that I think about it, Mo didn’t used to seem like the type to be so caught up in a relationship.”

Li Heng didn’t respond, feeling a bit worried.

Xie Duzhi had gone to see Bai Ruan but still hadn’t messaged him back.

“…But if we tell Mo, wouldn’t he be too devastated to handle it?” Wei Zhuowei paced anxiously.

“That’s very likely.”

Li Heng couldn’t help but sigh. “That’s why I was considering if we could shift his attention through studying or other activities, so he has no time to think about Bai Ruan. Then, we could get a psychologist involved.”

The Xie family had a psychologist, and when the time came, he could simply invite Lin Mo over and casually arrange a session.

“Do you think that could work?”

“I guess it might,” Wei Zhuowei said, not able to come up with a better idea. “So you’ll keep him busy with study sessions, and I’ll get him to play games with me. We’ll take turns distracting him.”

“I can even make up a story about a friend.”

He thought hard. “A friend who was deceived by PUA tactics, hinting to Mo about it without being too obvious.”

“That could work for me too,” Li Heng said after some thought, agreeing that fabricating a “friend” might be a good idea. “I could have a friend like that too.”

Noticing his phone light up again, Li Heng immediately checked it.

It was a message from Xie Duzhi.

He told him not to worry, saying Bai Ruan wouldn’t have the time to bother him for a while. He also advised him to keep an eye on his roommate and strongly suggested seeing a psychologist.

Li Heng let out a sigh of relief, finally feeling the weight lift off his shoulders.

“Should we try this first? We’ll keep Mo too busy to focus on his relationship with Bai Ruan, while also making him realize he’s being manipulated.”

The plan started off relatively smoothly.

Every time Lin Mo looked at his phone or replied to someone, he and Wei would find ways to distract him, casually mentioning their “friend” from time to time.

And indeed, Bai Ruan didn’t show up again.

Wei Zhuowei, probing for information, found out that Bai Ruan had suddenly received a notification and had to leave the city earlier than planned, a few days ago.

The unexpected happened just when they thought things were gradually getting back to normal, and were about to pick the right time to reveal everything to Lin Mo.