This person is clearly a male protagonist in a female-oriented novel, yet he is excessively lucid.

The video posted by Dewey is not long, only five or six minutes long.

More importantly, this is not a recorded feature, but rather a clip edited from his recent live stream recordings.

One morning, Dewey sat in front of the camera in the live broadcast room on time.

Within just three or four minutes of the broadcast starting, the number of viewers in the live stream skyrocketed, quickly reaching over 200,000.

He nestled lazily in the large leather sofa, his fingertips gently twirling a limited-edition fountain pen, its metallic sheen gleaming coldly under the light.

The display shelves behind him were filled to the brim, with several antique-style ornaments arranged in a pleasing manner. However, anyone with expertise could tell at a glance that most of these items were imitations.

The screen was already flooded with comments like "Good morning, Mr. Wei," "Mr. Wei has such good taste," and "Waiting for Mr. Wei to appreciate the treasure," all of which were flattering and praising.

"Today we won't talk about watches, haute couture, or luxury cars. Let's change things up and talk about what's called 'refined tastes'."

Dewey raised an eyebrow slightly at the camera, his eyes filled with a hint of mocking disdain. With his other hand, he slowly picked up his phone from the table, swiped a few times, and opened a painting that he had previously screenshotted and saved.

It was Yu Chenzhou who created the painting "Sunset in Pudong" in public at the Oriental Pearl City Square.

As soon as the painting appeared, the live chat was instantly flooded with a dense barrage of question marks.

Comments such as "???" "Has Mr. Wei changed careers?" "What's the story behind this painting?" and "I don't understand it, please explain" kept popping up.

After all, Dewey's live streams have focused on luxury goods for years, and his audience is mostly a group that falsely pursues a high-end material lifestyle.

He had almost no interaction with calligraphy and painting enthusiasts, and no one could figure out his intention in suddenly producing a traditional Chinese ink painting.

Seeing the confusion in the comments, Dewey couldn't help but scoff. He tapped his finger heavily on the ink painting on the screen, his arrogance palpable as he spoke to the camera:

"Family members, look carefully!"

This kind of blatantly counterfeit painting style, and this poorly imitated calligraphy, how dare they call it art?

I know you're all probably wondering why I'm suddenly fixated on a piece of calligraphy and painting.

I'm going to tell you the truth today: ink painting is no longer pure art; it's a complete luxury.

It's not that it has any inherent artistic value; its price is purely inflated by a group of speculators!

At this point, he deliberately leaned forward, bringing the camera even closer, making his disdain clearly visible, and the contempt in his tone as cold and piercing as if it had been tempered with ice:

"Like the author of this calligraphy and painting, I made a special inquiry and it is said that he is a doctor who runs a clinic."

Tell me, he's a doctor, and instead of using a scalpel to save lives, he's holding a calligraphy brush and pretending to be something he's not. Do you really think he knows anything about calligraphy and painting?

In my opinion, he's just relying on his family's wealth to use ink painting as a tool to gild his image. It's laughable that he thinks he can use it to raise his social status!

As soon as he finished speaking, different opinions emerged in the live chat, with some viewers refuting him:

"I think the colors and composition of this painting are pretty good, it doesn't seem bad at all..."

This comment stood out amidst the screen full of agreement.

Dewey caught a glimpse of the rebuttal comment out of the corner of his eye, his expression darkened slightly, and his voice instantly rose eight octaves, retorting sharply with a deliberately incited tone:

"Not bad? Of course not bad!"

They dare to claim that they perfectly reproduce Gu Kaizhi's paintings and replicate Wang Xizhi's calligraphy!

Friends in the live stream, do you know who Gu Kaizhi and Wang Xizhi are?

Those were the top calligraphers and painters in our history. It's a pity that their original works have long been lost, and what exists now are all imitations.

But I'm wondering, if the original has been lost, what does this "perfect reproduction" mean?

Could it be that he has seen the original?

Family members, now that I've said this, I'm sure you all understand, right?

This is just the nonsense some so-called "experts" use to fool people!

He paused deliberately, took a sip of the expensive black tea on the table, cleared his throat, and then steered the conversation back to the topic of value, his tone becoming increasingly contemptuous:

"I've seen countless luxury goods in my life, Patek Philippe watches, Chanel haute couture clothing—those are all made of real gold and silver, and their value is substantial."

But what about this kind of ink painting?

To put it bluntly, they are just a bunch of pretentious hypocrites who use cheap paper and cheap ink to draw things that they use to fool uninformed people into buying their work!

Look closely at this painting, everyone, and don't be fooled by appearances.

As he spoke, Dewey skillfully switched the live stream to a high-definition screenshot of "Sunset over Pudong," tapping randomly on the screen with his finger, and continued:

"It's just a painting of a sunset, isn't it?"

What's so strange about that?

Friends in the live stream, honestly, does anyone understand the so-called "artistic conception" of this painting? You don't, do you?

It's okay if you don't understand!

In my opinion, this is a classic case of blindly imitating others, copying ancient paintings without any soul, and only meant to fool people.

Furthermore, this author, on the surface, pretends to be an aloof and detached scholar, but behind the scenes, isn't he just showing off his family background?

If he were truly capable, why wouldn't he dare to auction his paintings at major auction houses like Sotheby's and Christie's?

Is it really necessary to put on airs and try to attract attention in a busy place like a square?

"To put it bluntly, his paintings are no different from those counterfeit luxury goods with OEM labels!"

Made of cheap materials and devoid of any artistic merit, it can only fool those who are unsophisticated and ignorant of art.

Who among the insiders who truly understand luxury goods and art would look down on this kind of thing?

Pure garbage!

Dewey's deliberately provocative words instantly ignited the atmosphere in the live stream, causing the popularity to soar and the number of online viewers to exceed 600,000.

The comments section erupted into a chaotic mess, with some agreeing with him, others disagreeing, and still others just watching the drama unfold.

Dewey glanced down at the constantly fluctuating number of online users and gift notifications in the background, a smug smile creeping onto his lips.

This is exactly the effect he wanted.

By deliberately belittling Yu Chenzhou and taking a jab at so-called traditional art, he can both create controversy and attract attention, while also solidifying his persona as a "high-end lifestyle connoisseur."

Attracting more traffic and fans is a win-win situation, and he is naturally happy to do it.

In the residential area, Yu Chenzhou quietly watched the malicious video.

He gently handed the phone back to the girl beside him, then looked up at Dewey, his face devoid of any emotion, only undisguised contempt, and said:

"Hehe, after watching your video, I understand now. You are not only suspected of defamation and breaking the law, but you are also extremely immoral."

I bet all those so-called luxury brands you're praising in your live stream are actually foreign brands, right?

By belittling the traditional arts left by your ancestors, looking down on everything made in China, and blindly praising foreign things, you certainly live a life of "worshiping foreign things and fawning over foreigners".

If you like foreign countries so much, then why are you staying in China?

After all, in your eyes, the air abroad must be sweet and fresh, right?

No wonder your company is unwilling to provide you with legal aid. Who would want to mess with someone as shameless as you?

Yu Chenzhou's words were like a precise, sharp knife, instantly piercing Dewey's sore spot.

His face suddenly turned deathly pale, then flushed red, and he stood there trembling slightly.

The residents who rushed over to watch after hearing the news began to look at him with increasingly strange eyes.

The disdain and contempt in those eyes felt like needles pricking him, making him inexplicably flustered and his breathing become rapid.

Yu Chenzhou keenly noticed his clenched fist, his knuckles turning white, clearly indicating he was trying his best to suppress his emotions, so he calmly added:

"Besides, you may have forgotten that this is our shared community, not a place for you to run wild."

Your loud and persistent words and actions have seriously disturbed the rest of other residents.

If they continue to cause trouble, I wouldn't hesitate to contact the property management immediately, or even call the police to handle the situation and let them decide.

As soon as Yu Chenzhou finished speaking, a series of hurried footsteps came from afar, and several staff members in property security uniforms rushed over.

It turns out that some residents, unable to bear the disturbance any longer, had already called the property management in advance. They learned that a large number of people had gathered there and were worried about a physical altercation, so they rushed over immediately.

Dewey turned around following the footsteps, saw the approaching security guard, and then looked at the strange looks from the surrounding residents. His lips moved, as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it back and ultimately did not dare to provoke them again.

Just as the security guard was about to ask what had happened, a woman's voice, thick with sobs, suddenly broke through from the crowd:

"Sir, please have mercy and spare my son!"

We really know we were wrong!

Yu Chenzhou looked in the direction of the sound and saw a middle-aged woman wearing a simple floral shirt, quickly squeezing through the crowd.

Her hair was a little messy, and there were fine beads of sweat on her forehead, indicating that she had run all the way here.

As soon as the woman reached Dewey's side, she grabbed his arm tightly, then turned around and, with red-rimmed eyes, bowed repeatedly to Yu Chenzhou, her waist bent extremely low, her face full of undisguised anxiety and pleading.

"Sir, we know we were wrong. It's all my fault for not raising my son well."

He's young and doesn't know any better. He made such a big mistake in a moment of confusion. Please be magnanimous and don't pursue his responsibility any further. Please withdraw the lawsuit, okay?

This account is his lifeline. If he loses it, how will he live? Please have mercy!

Dewey was held tightly by his mother's arm, a hint of undisguised embarrassment flashing across his face. He lowered his head even further, deliberately avoiding the gaze of those around him, and put on a look of deep remorse and repentance.

Seeing this, the surrounding homeowners couldn't help but start whispering among themselves.

"So it's her real mother." "She looks so pitiful." "Young people make mistakes, why not forgive her this once?" These voices rose and fell.

Many people looked at Yu Chenzhou with more inquiry and expectation, clearly moved by his sudden display of misery.

The woman keenly sensed the change in the attitudes of those around her, and her sobs intensified, her voice filled with deep grievance:

"Sir, you come from a good family, you are capable, and you have a broad vision. You don't need to argue with us ordinary people."

We truly know we were wrong, and we will definitely discipline him properly from now on and never dare to do it again. Please have mercy on us, mother and son…”

Yu Chenzhou's gaze swept calmly over the woman's red-rimmed eyes, then landed on Dewey's lowered head. His eyes showed no sign of wavering, but rather a cold clarity.

He paused for a few seconds, then slowly spoke. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a penetrating power, clearly reaching the ears of everyone present:

"You know you're wrong? I doubt it."

The woman's crying stopped abruptly, as if someone had choked her. She raised her head in disbelief, her swollen eyes staring intently at Yu Chenzhou, her face full of astonishment and confusion. She clearly hadn't expected Yu Chenzhou to be so disrespectful.

Yu Chenzhou took half a step forward, his gaze sharp and fixed on Dewey, and said, word by word, with resounding force:

"You're rushing to me to beg for forgiveness not because you genuinely know you were wrong to release defamatory videos and openly harass others, but because you're afraid."

I'm afraid my account will be permanently banned by the platform, I'm afraid of bearing the corresponding legal responsibility, and I'm even more afraid of having to compensate me for the reputational damage I've suffered as a result.

This "apology" was never heartfelt; it was merely a compromise born of fear.

"You're talking nonsense!"

Dewey suddenly raised his head, veins bulging on his forehead, his face flushed as if it were about to bleed. Clearly, Yu Chenzhou had hit his most secret thoughts, and he roared loudly at Yu Chenzhou.

"My mother is so old, she's already humbled herself and begged you, and I've already admitted my mistake. What more do you want? Are you determined to drive her to the brink of despair?"

"True remorse comes from the heart, and it means taking the initiative to make amends for the mistakes you have made."

Instead of waiting until they are desperate and have no other choice, they resort to playing the victim to gain sympathy or relying on elders to plead for leniency to evade responsibility.

Yu Chenzhou's tone remained calm, yet carried an undeniable authority, each word piercing to the heart.

"If you really knew you were wrong, you wouldn't have waited for me in the neighborhood, and you wouldn't have kept bothering me."

If you truly knew you were wrong, you wouldn't have waited until I filed the lawsuit and received the summons before you thought of bowing your head and begging for forgiveness.

If you truly know you're wrong, what you should be doing now is not dragging your mother to beg me to drop the lawsuit, but rather taking the initiative to go to court to explain the situation, proactively publishing a public apology statement online, and doing your best to make up for the damage to my reputation.

If you truly know you've done something wrong, what you should do is accept the punishment of the law and take responsibility for what you should bear, instead of trying to escape it.

At this point, Yu Chenzhou paused slightly, his gaze slowly sweeping over the crowd of onlookers, his voice carrying an undeniable firmness:

"The law is fair and just, and it will not make exceptions for anyone who plays the victim or is pitiful; my legitimate rights will not be harmed out of thin air because of your pleas."

Therefore, withdrawing the lawsuit is absolutely impossible.

You will not escape the consequences of your mistakes, not even a fraction.

Yu Chenzhou's words were logical and reasonable, like a bucket of cold water poured over the woman's head, leaving her speechless.

Her lips trembled, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find any reason to refute it. Tears still clung to her face, but she couldn't squeeze out a single sob. She could only stand there blankly.

Dewey's face alternated between pale and flushed, his fists clenched tighter, his knuckles turning bluish-white, his eyes filled with shame, indignation, and resentment.

But under Yu Chenzhou's icy gaze, he ultimately dared not lash out again, and could only grit his teeth and suppress his anger.

Yu Chenzhou's words plunged the room into a deathly silence. Even the homeowners who had been whispering earlier fell silent, and the atmosphere became extremely heavy.

Seeing this, the security captain finally found an opportunity to interject. He stepped forward, nodded to the onlookers, and then whispered to Du Wei and his mother, as well as Yu Chenzhou:

"Everyone, this is a public area of ​​the community. The noise will disturb other residents' rest, so please keep quiet."

If there is indeed a dispute, it is recommended that you resolve it privately or through legal channels. Do not gather here to cause trouble.

Everyone, please leave so as not to disturb others.

Yu Chenzhou didn't look at the mother and son again, as if they were just insignificant air.

He slightly turned aside, passed Dewey who was frozen in place, squeezed out of the crowd of onlookers, and walked straight towards home.

Behind him, the woman's crying gradually subsided, turning into suppressed sobs, mixed with Dewey's heavy and suppressed breathing.

Finally, after the security guard's patient persuasion, the mother and son left with heavy steps. Seeing that the parties involved had left, the onlookers lost interest in continuing to watch the commotion and dispersed, discussing among themselves.

As night deepened, the evening breeze still gently caressed my cheeks, carrying a slight chill.

The leaves rustled in the wind, and this crisp sound regained its auditory appeal, completely dispelling the previous noise.

However, the tension left by the intense questioning had not completely dissipated; it still lingered in the air for a long time.