Chapter 3

As my mother stared at the business card being offered, she hadn't even had time to react before my younger brother snatched it away.

Facing the camera, tears streamed down his face.

"That would be wonderful."

I had to admit—my mother had raised him well. With his sharp, handsome features, it didn't take long for netizens to crown him the "most handsome top scorer."

[Ahhh! Am I the only one obsessed with his profile?!]

[He's ridiculously good-looking—he could rival some celebs! Has he ever thought about making a living off his face?]

[Sob… with looks like that, and still working so hard…]

[Is this even fair?! Compared to him, I'm basically a useless slacker…]

The attention came pouring in. Even advertisers began extending offers to him.

With such momentum, the production team naturally wasn't going to let it slip away. They quickly decided the program would be broadcast live.

But on the day filming was set to begin, my mother hesitated. Looking at my brother, she spoke with unease, "Are we going too far with this? No matter what your brother did, I'm still his mother. What if he gets labeled unfilial and ends up being attacked online?"

Her eyes suddenly reddened as she looked at the table full of dishes.

"Your brother used to love these smashed potatoes the most. But no one has touched this dish for three years now. I wonder how he's been all these years, out there on his own…"

I couldn't help but laugh. Compared to the lavish spread of meat dishes, that small plate of smashed potatoes sitting at the edge of the table looked utterly insignificant.

The truth was—I didn't like smashed potatoes at all.

I hated them. I only ate them because I wanted to save the meat dishes for last to eat.

But every time I blinked, the rich, savory dishes would somehow end up in my brother's bowl.

And my mother would laugh as she mocked me, saying I had no taste.

"There's so much meat on the table, and you're clinging to a plate of smashed potatoes like it's a delicacy."

After that, even when she visited me from our hometown, she would always cook endless smashed potatoes for me.

It wasn't that she didn't know I liked meat. She just didn't want to admit the favoritism in her heart.

So when she heard the production team had failed to find me, she quickly set aside her earlier concerns and happily went on the show.

When the host asked, "In your heart, what kind of person is your eldest son?"

She actually paused to think seriously.

Then she said, "Well… sometimes I think he is rather stingy. And a bit pretentious."

Her earnest, slightly pouting expression sent the livestream into fits of laughter.

[Hahaha, what a character this old lady is!]

[Saying her own son is pretentious with a straight face—this is too funny.]

[She's hilarious!]

[If she were my mom, I'd treat her like a queen. Life must be so fun with her around!]

[Am I the only one who feels sorry for her?]

[As a mother, how heartbroken must she be to describe her own son like that?]

Even the staff on set couldn't help but smile, commenting that my mother had great "show presence" and that she felt authentic.

But in the next second, my brother suddenly burst into tears.

The lively atmosphere froze.

When the host pressed him, he waved it off, forcing a brave smile.

"It's nothing. I just… feel sorry for my mom."

The perfectly timed restraint only fueled speculation.

Viewers began to wonder what I, the so-called unfilial son, had done to make this usually strong, "most handsome top scorer" break down again and again.

Then, as if on cue, he brought me up himself, his eyes reddening at the corners.

"Actually… I feel sorry for my brother too. I don't know how he's been all these years, cut off from the family. I'm really afraid he might have gone down the wrong path."

That single sentence lit a spark among the audience.

[Exactly!]

[He was used to spending freely—how did he even survive after losing his main financial support?]

[Don't tell me he suddenly turned over a new leaf and became self-reliant?]

[Come on, don't make me laugh—self-reliant?]

[Isn't it obvious? A lazy guy like that probably became a gigolo.]

[Please—if he's ugly, don't insult that profession.]

[Wow, did this family show just crack a major case?]

Their baseless slander spread like a grotesque feast. They didn't know me at all, yet cloaked in righteousness, they condemned me without hesitation.

In an instant, despair wrapped tightly around me. I screamed myself hoarse, trying to defend myself—but no one could hear a single word.

The next moment, mother and son turned to the camera together.

"Nicolas, no matter what you've done out there, we're still your family. Once you start serving time, reflect on yourself and start over. We'll be waiting for you."

But before they could finish, the host interrupted, "Although we weren't able to invite Nicolas Soros today, we have brought in a special guest. And this guest has also brought two items on behalf of your son."

At the director's cue, a solemn-looking woman walked onto the stage.

I froze in shock.

How… could it be her…

As the first "gift" was presented, my mother's expression instantly stiffened.

It was a thin sheet of paper. The words on it were so clear that she stood there, unable to react for a long time.

And when the second item was slowly revealed, my brother suddenly went mad, lunging at her with a hoarse scream.

"No—don't!"