A twin-tailed girl stomped over, cheeks puffed in anger.

She glared at Hu Ming as if he’d committed an unforgivable crime.

Yet he offered no explanation. Arms crossed, he simply stared back at her.

Her name was Han Yunxi—Hu Ming’s sister.

Well, Han Shuyi’s sister now.

Same age. Same high school.

But she refused to acknowledge him. His rotten reputation, his outrageous stunts—he was an embarrassment.

She’d ordered him not to greet her on campus. No one must know they were related.

She clearly despised him.

Today proved their relationship had hit rock bottom.

Without a single word from him, she’d already decided he was guilty.

Han Yunxi helped the maids to their feet, gesturing for them to step aside. Then she planted herself before Hu Ming. A head shorter, yet radiating fierce defiance.

"Why are you bullying these sisters? Even if they work for us, you had no right to make them kneel!"

She’d long hated his behavior. She’d tried reasoning with him before—uselessly. Now she’d given up entirely.

Hu Ming arched a brow. His utter lack of remorse infuriated her further.

"So what if it was me? What if it wasn’t? Don’t I have the right to discipline my own staff?"

"You—! Do you even know your place now? My real brother is Han Shuyi! You’re not even part of the Khan Family!"

The words burst out in her fury.

She instantly clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide with panic.

But Hu Ming didn’t explode like before. Instead, a faint, mocking smile touched his lips.

"You’re right. I’m no Khan."

With that, he turned and walked away.

Leaving only bewildered maids and a frozen Han Yunxi.

*Something’s off about him today,* she thought.

...

Just past the corner, Hu Ming spotted last night’s maid—the one who’d knocked on his door.

She stood waiting, voice soft.

"Young Master, shall I explain things to the young lady?"

"Huh? Explain what? Don’t they still treat me as ‘Young Master’? Though... they’re right. I’m no Khan. No need for such respect."

Hu Ming eyed the unassuming maid, waving dismissively.

"Don’t bother with me either. Worthless people like me? We just wait to be discarded."

He brushed past her. Her voice followed.

"As long as you remain in the Khan Family, you are its Young Master."

Hu Ming didn’t pause. He strode toward the exit, sunlight stretching his shadow long across the floor.

"Is that so? Then I’ll stay as long as they let me."

The maid slowly turned, watching his retreating figure. A whisper escaped her lips.

"Young Master... have you truly surrendered to fate?"

...

News traveled fast. By the next day, the entire school knew Hu Ming wasn’t the real Khan heir.

As he stepped from his private car, every eye locked onto him.

His usual entourage of lackeys had vanished.

Hu Ming wasn’t surprised. They’d only ever followed his money.

Now that he was no Khan heir? No profit in sticking around.

Beside him, Han Shuyi drew a crowd.

The same sycophants who’d fawned over Hu Ming now swarmed the true heir.

One surrounded by admirers. The other utterly alone. The contrast was brutal.

Not that Hu Ming lacked attention—just mockery.

"Well, well! If it isn’t Young Master Han Huming!" A scrawny, sharp-faced boy blocked his path. "Oops—forgot you’re not a Khan anymore! *He’s* the real heir now~"

This one had always hated Hu Ming but stayed silent out of fear. Now? He seized his chance to kick a man down.

Hu Ming’s lips quirked slightly. Unfazed.

"If your eyes worked, you’d have seen what car I arrived in."

The boy flushed. "So what? You’re a fraud! You stole Han Shuyi’s life for fifteen years! Can you ever pay that back?!"

The words struck a chord.

Han Shuyi was handsome, kind, brilliant. Given Khan resources, he’d shine even brighter.

While Hu Ming? A spoiled brat wasting everything.

*What right did he have to steal Han Shuyi’s destiny?*

Fingers pointed. Whispers hissed. The crowd seemed determined to erase him.

Too bad Hu Ming had thick skin.

He grinned through their scorn, whistling as he headed for class. Ignoring the noise.

Every step brought glares. For a moment, he felt like the school’s enemy.

But the real test waited inside his classroom.

His desk had been moved beside the trash bin. Books lay scattered on the floor.

Graffiti covered the desktop.

Hu Ming leaned closer. The words were carved deep in bright paint:

**"UNWANTED BASTARD—GET OUT."**

The hatred in each stroke was visceral. Someone wanted him gone. Dead, even.

The class held their breath, waiting for his infamous rage.

Instead, Hu Ming chuckled.

"Interesting artwork. Which ‘master painter’ did this?"

Silence. Stunned faces.

He calmly dragged his desk back to its spot. Then knelt, gathering his books one by one.

"You thought this would make me snap?"

He knew exactly what they wanted to see. And he’d deny them the show.

Students exchanged confused glances.

*Is Hu Ming possessed?*