The Real Young Master is Entangled by the Paranoid Fake Young Master - Chapter 7

“Song Zhaoqing! You’ve lost your mind! I am your elder brother!”

Song Zhiyuan’s face was twisted in a mask of pure loathing. Zhaoqing had no doubt that if the man had a knife in his hand right now, he would drive it into Zhaoqing’s chest without hesitation.

“Don’t make me laugh. We only met today what ‘brotherly bond’ could we possibly have?”

“Since you’ve brought up being an ‘elder brother,’ let me remind you: even if we share some blood, I will never treat you with the respect of a sibling in the days to come. You’re right not to kneel, because as long as you refuse, I will never set foot in the Song estate. You should be happy, Song Zhiyuan. Because if I return to that godforsaken house, I will make sure you don’t have a single day of peace.”

“You!” Zhiyuan was clearly blindsided by Zhaoqing’s relentless aggression. His face flushed a deep, frantic red as he struggled to find the words to strike back.

“Hurry up and decide. Do you kneel or not? If not, get out. My patience is wearing thin.”

Cornered by Zhaoqing’s pressure, Zhiyuan looked toward his father and grandmother with pleading eyes. But Shicheng and the Old Madam were stuck. They began to think: If we stop this jinx now, what if he turns his rage on us? He’s clearly insane; he might demand we kneel next. We are the patriarch and matriarch, how would we recover from that?

So, in a silent, unspoken agreement, they both remained silent.

Zhaoqing knew them too well. They had always been happy to sacrifice others to save themselves. He remembered what Zhiyuan had said in the past life when the family finally discarded him:

“Zhaoqing, you need to reflect on your own failings. You were too useless, so the family had to let you go. Everyone gave you so many chances, yet you failed to seize even one. You can’t blame us now.”

Those words had been etched into Zhaoqing’s soul. Now, it was time for Zhiyuan to taste the bitterness of being abandoned. Zhaoqing offered a radiant, uninhibited smile, his eyes shimmering with a startling, breathtaking beauty.

“Song Zhiyuan, reflect on your own failings. You were too useless, so the family has abandoned you. I gave you a chance, yet you refused to seize it. You can’t blame me now.”

He threw the exact words back at him. From this day forward, an indelible scar would be left between the father, the grandmother, and the son. That rift would only grow deeper until the great ship of the Song family shattered into pieces.

I will wait to see your downfall, Zhaoqing thought, his gaze burning as it swept over each of them.

Zhiyuan felt the weight of his family’s silent permission and was crushed by the humiliation. His pride was too immense to endure kneeling to someone he viewed as “low-born.” Desperate, he turned to his younger sister, Song Lili.

Lili, seeing her respected elder brother so broken and lost, immediately softened. The arrogant, pampered girl had been intimidated by Zhaoqing’s aura from the moment she entered. Furthermore, while she preferred Yuening, she felt her grandmother’s verbal abuse of the “new brother” behind his back was wrong.

Before Zhaoqing arrived, she had imagined him as someone vulgar, ugly, and intent on destroying their happy home. She had planned to join Zhiyuan in driving him out. But seeing this handsome new brother, she felt a strange, complex emotion.

If he behaves and doesn’t bully Brother Yuening, maybe it’s okay for him to stay…

Finally, the prideful Lili summoned her courage and stepped in front of her brother, trying to look “menacing” as she glared at Zhaoqing. “Hmph! What makes you so special? Why should my brother kneel to you?! Don’t you dare bully him! If… if an apology is what you want, I’ll kneel and apologize for him, okay?!”

Lili gritted her teeth and prepared to drop to the floor, thinking she could get her revenge later, maybe by putting bugs under his pillow or laxatives in his food. But before her knees hit the cold floor, a pair of warm, strong hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her back up.

“Lili, oh Lili,  why are you still so foolish?”

Hearing him call her foolish, Lili was about to snap back with a sharp retort. But she looked up and met Zhaoqing’s eyes. They were clear and deep, filled with a profound sadness. For some reason, her complaints died in her throat.

“Song Lili, you don’t need to kneel. You’ve done nothing wrong to me. You shouldn’t suffer for Song Zhiyuan’s sins. This is his burden to bear.”

“They claim all the family glory for themselves, but the moment trouble arises, they expect you to step forward and take the fall. Tell me are these people your family, or your enemies?”

Zhaoqing spoke directly to Lili, but his gaze drifted slowly from Shicheng to the Old Madam, and finally settled on Zhiyuan.

“You…” Lili wanted to argue, but she found she had no defense. She wanted to tell Zhaoqing that her father and brother weren’t like that, but she knew the truth: if the Songs ever needed a scapegoat and Shicheng had to choose between her and Zhiyuan, she would be the one sacrificed. Just like now, hiyuan had provoked Zhaoqing, yet she was the one about to kneel.

Zhaoqing sighed, his mind drifting back years to the first time he met Lili.

“Grandmother… this is… this is a gift for you…”

During his first meal at the Song estate, Zhaoqing had been painfully shy. After Lili’s constant interruptions and mockery at the table, he felt even more inferior, afraid to even take a large bite of food for fear of being laughed at.

But as the Old Madam prepared to leave the table, Zhaoqing couldn’t hold back. He knew they were prejudiced against him, but he had still brought out the gifts he had prepared with so much care.

The Old Madam and Zhiyuan wouldn’t even touch them. Perhaps they thought his things were “dirty,” or perhaps they just thought he was too “low-class” to bother with.

“Your aesthetic doesn’t quite suit me,” the Old Madam had said coldly before being led away by the butler.

Zhiyuan, despite his hatred, had used a more “noble” excuse: “I already have this set of books, Zhaoqing. I appreciate the gesture, but you should keep them to improve your own vocabulary. You’ll need it; after all, Father is going to have you start learning French soon.”

And Yuening? The gloves Zhaoqing had knitted for him were likely tossed into a bin the moment his back was turned.

But the most heartbreaking reaction had come from the man Zhaoqing had admired most: his father, Song Shicheng. Zhaoqing had spent days and nights knitting a scarf for him, desperate for a father’s love after living with a gambler. He had left the gift and a card at Shicheng’s study door, hoping for a sign of affection.

He never got one. Three days later, he found the scarf in the trash near the servants’ quarters. Thinking someone had stolen it, he got into a fight with the maids, only to be told that Shicheng had handed it to the butler and said: “Just throw this thing anywhere; there’s no need to keep it.”

In that moment, Zhaoqing realized that he was the scarf. He was meant to be “thrown anywhere.”

Only the bratty Lili, while grumbling about “trashy things,” had actually, begrudgingly, kept the gift Zhaoqing gave her, an expensive dress that had cost him two years of secret savings.

To buy that dress, he had worked at an illegal underground fighting ring, sleeping less than four hours a day while balancing school and a kitchen apprenticeship. He didn’t want to fight at first, but the pay difference between being a waiter and a fighter was immense. He needed the money to survive and to treat his younger brother Chen Lian’s congenital kidney disease.

Back then, the malnourished Zhaoqing was beaten every day, by his adoptive father, by the massive opponents in the ring, and by the thugs who collected “protection fees” in the slums. He had learned how to survive and how to run.

He had lived with Chen Wan, a drunkard and gambler who suspected that Zhaoqing’s “mother,” Pei Yan, had cheated on him. Pei Yan had been a showgirl who swapped Zhaoqing with her own biological son (the real Song Yuening) while working as a cleaner at a private hospital. She did it out of a warped sense of maternal love, ensuring her son had a life of luxury while a stranger’s child suffered in the slums.

Zhaoqing was the victim of a mother’s selfishness toward her own child. When he finally learned the truth, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Everything he had suffered was for a family that wasn’t even his.

In the Song family, everyone looked down on him, but only Lili, who gave him the harshest “welcome” didn’t truly despise him. During the kidnapping incident, Zhaoqing had saved both her and Yuening, and their relationship had softened.

Zhaoqing realized then that some people are sharp-tongued but soft-hearted, while others are “gentle” but rotten to the core. Lili kept the gift, while the “polite” Yuening eventually led Zhaoqing to his death.

But Zhaoqing couldn’t bear to remember Lili’s end. At twenty-two, she was sold into a marriage with a branch of the Jiang family to save Shicheng’s failing business. Her husband was mentally ill and beat her to death while she was pregnant with their child.

On her wedding day, Lili had whispered “I’m sorry” to Zhaoqing over and over. She regretted being afraid of him when they were young. She wished they could have been the best siblings in the world from the start.

So, Lili, let’s not do that this time. We won’t be their pawns. This time, I won’t let you die, and I won’t let them win.

Zhaoqing’s eyes went dark. He approached Song Zhiyuan and, before anyone could react, he kicked him hard in the back of the knee. Zhaoqing wasn’t a powerhouse, but he knew exactly how to strike for maximum impact. Zhiyuan let out a cry of pain as he fell to the floor.

The room went silent. No one expected Zhaoqing to resort to physical violence.

Zhaoqing sneered. “We’re not finished. Kneeling is just the beginning. Now… I want you to kowtow and beg for my forgiveness.”

He stepped forward and pressed his foot firmly onto Song Zhiyuan’s shoulder.