When my parents finally found me, I had just returned from overseas and was tending to my grandfather’s neglected land—clearing the overgrowth, turning soil, and trying to breathe life back into a place forgotten by time.

They saw me like that: tanned from the sun, covered in sweat and dirt, looking more like an old village farmer than the son they’d lost.

The moment Lisha Park laid eyes on me, her face crumpled. My features mirrored hers too closely—seventy percent, they’d later say.

Tears welled in her eyes. “Child… we’re your parents,” she whispered, voice trembling. “You’ve suffered so much. Come home with me.”

She reached for my hand and gasped softly when she saw the fresh cut from the sickle. Her tears fell like rain. I looked at the small group behind them and sighed quietly. So… they’d finally come.

——

A short distance away, my bodyguards stood watch. I waved them off with a slight gesture, signaling that they needn’t follow.

After neatly stacking the sickles, hoes, and unplanted seedlings, I dusted off my hands. “I’ll go back and clean up,” I said calmly. “It’s messy. No need for you all to follow.”

But Lisha insisted. She had to see where I lived. And the others—the father, Kester, and the sisters, Heidi, Pauleen—reluctantly followed.

At the village entrance stood a weathered shack, its structure barely holding together. Rats scurried past as we approached. From the house next door, pigs snorted loudly, and the smell of manure made everyone behind me cover their noses.

“Is this… livable?” Kester asked, his face darkening with a flash of disdain.

I smiled faintly. “I’ve lived here for over a decade. Never once found it unbearable.”

Inside, the space was cramped—just a bed, a makeshift stove of bricks, and a small wooden cabinet. An old electric fan was the only appliance. Lisha’s eyes welled up again. She turned away, unable to look any longer.

Meanwhile, Heidi and Pauleen stepped outside, visibly disgusted.

I picked up my bag, shoved a few changes of clothes into it, and quietly followed them out.

“Kingston, heading out again?” Aunt Korrine called from across the road, a bag of pig feed in hand. She grinned when she saw me.

“Yes, Aunt Korrine. My family finally found me. I’m going back with them,” I replied with a nod.

She disappeared into her house and returned with a bag of loquats, stuffing them into my arms. “For the road,” she said warmly.

I smiled. Aunt Korrine still remembered. As a boy, I used to climb her loquat tree, stealing fruit and laughter. Those were good days.

I was found in a garbage bin—just a breath away from death. My grandfather, Charles Wade, picked me up, brushed off the dust, and named me Kingston.

I was weak, often sick, but the villagers—kind, rough, generous—raised me like their own. Grandpa said I had a destiny for fortune and trained me in the art of divination. It was through that I made a name for myself. I built a career, wealth, reputation.

But just as I reached success, Grandpa passed away. I kept his old house, returning every year. It’s where my best memories live.

When Aunt Korrine called me “Kingston,” I noticed the Park Family flinch. They looked uncomfortable.

I had expected them to show up eventually. Three years ago, I secretly revealed to them that the so-called young master of the Park Family was a fake—and that I was the real one. But they didn’t chase the imposter out. They ignored the truth.

And now here they were, wanting me to come back.

On the ride home, Heidi sat beside me. She shifted as far from me as possible, clearly worried my “village filth” might stain her.

She sneered, “Let’s get one thing clear: the Park Family is respected. Don’t bring your backward ways into our house. And you’d better follow our rules.”

I glanced at her, unfazed, and pulled a loquat from my bag. I took a bite, slowly, savoring its sweetness.

Lisha asked how I had been living all these years. I told her, simply, “Farming.”

She kept dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

She never even questioned it—how someone who farmed every day had hands with no calluses. Just one shallow cut.

Following the others into the Park Residence, I clutched my small bag tightly. Ahead of me stood a young man around my age.

As our eyes met, his turned red.

“Is… is this my brother?” he asked, voice trembling.

I glanced at Dex with a slight frown. “He’s also part of the Park Family?”

The moment I spoke, his eyes grew even redder, and he lowered his head like he’d just suffered the deepest injustice.

Pauleen immediately snapped at me, “You just got here and already want to kick Dex out?”

“I’m telling you—he’s my brother. You? You’re nothing. Don’t think for a second I want to acknowledge you as part of this family.”

Her tone was sharp and biting.

Heidi added, “Dex is our brother, a real Park. We accept him. Stop causing trouble.”

I raised a brow, puzzled. “And what exactly did I say?”

Their faces stiffened. They realized they’d overreacted and quickly fell silent.

Kester stepped in with a forced calm. “Dex is our child too. No one’s driving him away.” He then turned to me. “You’ve just returned to the family. There’s still so much you need to learn. Dex is excellent—he’s already helping me manage the company.”

His words weren’t subtle—they painted me as the ignorant outsider, while Dex was clearly favored, paraded as the rightful son.

I wasn’t particularly interested in the Park Family’s affairs. I knew their business had been declining steadily for years, with Dex at the helm of many losses. Still, I wanted to see how they’d treat me—the real son—now that I was back.

Well, now I know.

Once inside, Lisha looked at me awkwardly. “Kingston… we’re short on space. You can stay in the servant’s room on the first floor for now.”

I glanced up at the second floor. There were plenty of rooms. “There’s no room upstairs?” I asked, feigning curiosity.

Dex quickly jumped in. “It’s my fault. I converted the two spare rooms upstairs into a piano room and a study. I’ll move to the servant’s room. You can take mine!”

The moment he spoke, the whole family’s mood shifted. They looked at me like I was being unreasonable.

The two sisters glared.

“There really aren’t any extra rooms,” Kester declared. “Kingston, stay in the servant’s room.”

The room was tiny—a bed, a table, and not much else.

Later that evening, after Kester and Lisha Park had left the house for some business, I stayed in my room. Outside, I could hear the sound of cutlery—the sisters and Dex were already having dinner.

No one called for me.

I lay on the small bed, listening to them eat, a faint smirk forming on my lips.

When the parents returned and saw only three people at the table, Kester frowned. “Where’s Kingston?”

The three exchanged glances.

“If he won’t come out, do we have to beg him?” Heidi scoffed.

“Right! Honestly, we should just send food to his room. He probably eats like a peasant—it would ruin our appetite watching him,” Pauleen added mockingly.

Their voices were loud enough that I heard every word.

It was clear. To them, Dex was their brother. I was the intruder.

“Nonsense!” Lisha snapped. “Kingston is your brother too! How could you treat him this way?”

“Mom, it’s my fault you’re upset,” Dex said softly, his tone full of self-blame. “I’ll go bring Kingston out myself.”

Even now, he played the part of the wounded, considerate son. I frowned in my room, the act starting to sicken me.

But in the eyes of Kester and Lisha, his “concern” only made them feel more guilt—towards him.

“Dex,” Kester said gently, “you’ve always been our child. Kingston may be back now, but that doesn’t change how we feel about you.”

I felt the last traces of warmth fade from my heart.

Soon, Lisha knocked on my door. “Kingston, everyone’s eating. Why don’t you join us? Are you angry with us?”

Her words made me scoff inwardly. I’d been deliberately excluded, yet now they were making it seem like I was being petty.

“Dinner, is it?” I said simply, rising from the bed.

I walked to the dining table. As soon as I arrived, Heidi and Pauleen stood up abruptly.

“We’re done,” they said coldly and disappeared upstairs.

Dex looked at me with feigned concern. “Kingston, don’t blame the girls. They’re just worried about me. I know you don’t want me here. I’ll pack up and leave right away.”

He added, “Please… be kinder to them in the future.”

At that moment, the two sisters burst from their rooms, eyes full of fury.

“I knew you were trying to force Dex out!” Pauleen snapped. “As long as I’m here, you’ll never succeed!”

I looked at them coldly, then gave a faint smile.

“Did I ever say he should leave?”

"Alright."

Upon hearing my response, Father and Lisha quickly added, “Dex, Kingston isn’t the kind of person who would drive you away.”

“Kingston,” Kester looked at me earnestly, “we know we’ve wronged you all these years. But now that you're home, rest assured—we’ll take good care of you.”

I nodded slowly, then looked at them and said, “Since you’ve brought me back, doesn’t that mean I’m officially your son? Shouldn’t my identity be made public?”

After all, the Park Family is a prominent name in this city. Announcing the return of their lost heir should be inevitable.

But the moment my words landed, their expressions shifted.

Kester lowered his gaze and said quietly, “Kingston, you know our situation… If we go public with this, it might harm Dex. He’s been with us all these years. He’s our son, too.”

I stared at them, disappointment settling in my chest. “So, you never investigated how I got replaced?”

They didn’t respond right away. Instead, they exchanged a guilty glance.

“Kingston, what happened… it was an accident,” Lisha said softly.

“An accident?” I let out a cold laugh. “I’ve looked into it myself. I know exactly how it happened. Don’t insult my intelligence.”

The air turned stiff, silence enveloping the room. No one said another word. I quietly finished my meal while the two of them sat with their heads down.

When I stood up, I said, “I’ll go back to rest.”

“Kingston, you’re home now. I haven’t had the chance to talk with you properly,” Lisha said, almost pleading.

I turned to her. “What do you want to talk about?”

“You should change your surname back to Park—be Kingston Park again,” Kester said firmly.

I chuckled, but there was no warmth in it. “Kingston Park? The child the Park Family doesn’t want to acknowledge?”

Tension returned like a thick fog.

“Kingston,” Lisha began, “we know we’ve made mistakes, but try to understand. Dex has been with us far longer than you. Can’t you just live peacefully with him?”

“What if I said we can’t live peacefully—that one of us has to leave?”

Their faces darkened.

“Kingston!” Kester barked, slamming his hand on the table. “Is this what your grandfather taught you? Is this how you speak to your elders?”

“If that’s your attitude, then get out!”

“I never wanted to be here in the first place,” I replied calmly.

With fury in his eyes, he stepped forward and slapped me—hard. So hard that I tasted blood and felt a tooth fall out.

He stared at the blood on my lips, momentarily shaken—but he quickly masked it.

“Consider this a lesson,” he said coldly. “In this house, you follow the rules.”

I met his gaze without flinching. “Sorry. I don’t follow rules built on hypocrisy.”

With that, I picked up my small bag and walked out of the Park Family home.

In less than half a day, I had arrived and left.

As I reached the gate, my eyes fell on a crooked tree planted in the front yard.

“A good energy flow ruined by bad decisions,” I murmured, my tone light but cold.

“The Park Family… is doomed. And the rot starts from within.”