Chapter 1

I was the vicious true heir in a story about a real son and his impostor. The impostor, the story’s bottom lead, assumed I was an uneducated good-for-nothing and signed me up for the Interstellar Livestream Writing Competition to humiliate me.

Except that on my very first day, my stream shot into the top ten on the popularity chart.

StarNet viewers watching me write for the first time, still innocent of how cruel a person could be:

[AAAAH, ARE WE ALLOWED TO SHIP THIS?!]

[So what? Everyone’s shipping it. Everyone else is drunk on this ship, and I’m absolutely wasted.]

[Yes, yes… Wait. No. No, no, no…]

[Author, what are you DOING? You’d better fix this plot!]

Readers who’d already experienced my emotional knife work:

[The pain is normal.]

[The author has a conscience. Just not much of one.]

[We told you to have tissues ready. You acted like we were out to get you.]

……

When the aircraft stopped outside the gates of the Lin family’s main residence, I was still going over the plot I’d just received.

It was an exceptionally clichéd melodrama. I was the loathsome, vicious true heir. After returning to the Lin family, I resented the impostor, Lin Xi, for taking over my life. I targeted him, framed him, and tried every way I could to drive him out.

But luck helped the bottom lead dodge every scheme. Each attempt only brought him closer to his father, older brother, and fiancé.

My clumsy tricks, meanwhile, exposed what a miserable person I was. Eventually, with my reputation in ruins, I jumped off a building in a daze and ended my life.

The lead cried over me. Then everyone comforted him until he let go of his guilt and, perfectly at peace, married his fiancé as the Lin family’s young master.

A real classic.

By the time the butler led me into the main hall, I’d comfortably settled into my role as the vicious villain. I was even looking forward to the performance ahead.

“Sir, Young Master, Second Young Master. I’ve brought him home.” The butler bowed slightly to the three figures on the sofa.

“Yes. Thank you,” said the man in the seat of honor. He raised his eyes, looked past the butler at my face, and froze for a moment.

The two beside him noticed his expression and got up to look at me. The instant they saw my face clearly, both their expressions changed.

The oldest recovered first. Hiding his surprise, he put on the air of a caring father. “You Fu, isn’t it? You must be tired after the journey. I’ll have someone show you to your room so you can rest.”

“My room?” I raised an eyebrow. “Is it the best one?”

Mr. Lin coughed and looked away under my gaze. “There wasn’t much time. We haven’t been able to prepare a room especially for you. Would you mind staying in a guest room for now?”

The youngest-looking of the three lifted his head. He glanced silently at Mr. Lin, then lowered his eyes and clenched his hands.

Hadn’t they agreed to turn a servant’s room into You Fu’s room so he could feel secure? Why wasn’t Father saying that?

Deeply aggrieved, Lin Xi tugged at his older brother’s sleeve, his eyes red.

The eldest Lin son took the hint and stood. “Father, didn’t we already have a room prepared?”

At the same time, I folded my arms and asked Mr. Lin, “You think I’m a guest? When I’m the one with Lin blood?”

Silence.

My gaze moved slowly to the eldest son, who’d just jumped into the conversation.

“Where’s your room?”

“What do you want?”

“You’re giving it to me. You have one hour to move all your stuff out.” I pointed at Lin Xi and added, with all the arrogance and malice my role required, “Otherwise I’ll take your precious little brother’s room.”

By nightfall, after smashing half the things in the hall and half the things in Lin Xi’s room, I’d successfully moved into the eldest son’s room.

Wind and rain battered the house, a fitting reflection of how those three must have felt. As thunder rolled, someone tapped twice on my window.

Tap. Tap.

I pulled back the curtains. A dangerously handsome young man stood on the narrow ledge, rain running from his hair down his pale, brooding face.

His eyes lit up when he saw me.

“Master,” he said softly.

Yan Jue. The next head of the Yan family, with a script that combined an overpowered wish-fulfillment hero and a secret powerhouse making his comeback. At present, he had amnesia and was in an idiotic phase of believing he was a housekeeping robot.

I opened the window. He started to climb in, then seemed to remember something and drew back.

He shut the window, shook his head with a vigorous brrr, and only stepped carefully inside once he decided his hair had stopped dripping.

I glanced at the water dripping from his pant legs onto the floor and said nothing. When he held out a voice recorder in his wet hand, I tossed a towel onto his head.

Like a big dog who knew he’d done something wrong, Yan Jue hunched up and went to dry himself in a corner. I switched on the recorder.

“What do we do, Father? Brother? I don’t want to be thrown out…”

“Don’t panic. Your mother is handling business in the Seventh Star Region. She won’t be back for another two weeks.”

“He looks too much like Mother. We have to ruin him completely before she comes back.”

“H-how?”

“Doesn’t his file say he barely went to school? The Interstellar Livestream Writing Competition happens to be on right now. We’ll sign him up and let him make a fool of himself. Once his reputation’s ruined, Mother won’t think much of him…”

I didn’t stop them from signing me up. When they told me about it, I merely stayed silent.

They took my silence for fear and helplessness.

The eldest Lin son blocked my doorway with a smile. “Go on, write. Where’s all that arrogance now? Everyone in our generation of the Lin family is entering. Don’t tell me you can’t write anything.”

Behind him, Lin Xi offered what sounded like kind reassurance. “It’s all right if you can’t. The competition isn’t that important. Just put down whatever comes to mind.”

Me, who’d only been trying to decide whether this round of writing in a world that worshipped fluff should feature best friends parting ways or lovers becoming enemies:

“…”