I’m a girl, but I was raised as a boy my entire life. After turning eighteen, I worked construction to support myself, carrying bricks and pouring concrete. Until one day, a fleet of Rolls-Royces pulled up right in front of me at the job site. The people who stepped out told me I was the long-lost "Crown Prince" of the ultra-wealthy Sterling family in New York. Meanwhile, the fake heir, Julian Sterling—who had been living a life of unimaginable luxury for eighteen years—discovered the truth. Not only had he been switched at birth, but his biological parents were actually a poverty-stricken family that the Sterlings had been anonymously sponsoring for years. He completely broke down. He looked at his own tanned skin and muscular physique, and then looked at the soft, delicate "fake prince" standing before him. I fell into deep thought. They mistook me, a biological female, for their "Crown Prince"? Exactly how blind is the Sterling family? Chapter 1 "Young Master, please get in the car. The Patriarch, the Master, and the Madam are all waiting for you." The elderly butler who had arrived with the motorcade bowed respectfully to me. Holding the two hundred dollars in cash I had just received for my day's labor, I looked back at the dusty, chaotic construction site and remained silent. A few hours ago, I was screaming at my foreman until my face was red. Now, I was about to step into a luxury car and return to a place called "high society." It felt like a fever dream. For as long as I can remember, I lived in an orphanage. The director gave me his last name, naming me Taylor Vance. Terrified that I would get bullied, he always kept my hair cut short and dressed me exclusively in boys' clothes. Over time, everyone just assumed I was a boy. When I turned eighteen and aged out of the orphanage, I needed to survive, so I went to work in construction. On a job site, no one cares if you're a man or a woman; they only care if you can lift the weight. I didn't say a word. I pulled open the car door and got in. The butler led me into a mansion that looked more like a palace. Three people were sitting in the massive living room. In the center sat an elderly man with gray hair but a fiercely sharp presence. He radiated an imposing authority without even trying. Next to him sat a middle-aged couple. They had to be my parents. The man, dressed in a sharp suit, had his brows furrowed tightly. The woman, wearing elegant designer clothes, had red, teary eyes. And there I stood in the middle of the room, wearing a work uniform covered in cement dust, with a hole in my canvas sneakers. "Child, your... your name is Taylor, is it?" The elderly man, Arthur Sterling, the patriarch of the family, spoke first. I nodded. "You've suffered so much all these years." He let out a heavy sigh. "It's good that you're home. From this day forward, you are the grandson of the Sterling family, Taylor Sterling." "Dad, look at the state of him. He doesn't have a single ounce of the Sterling family's refinement..." my father, Richard Sterling, muttered with a frown. Before he could finish, Arthur slammed his cane hard against the floor. "Shut your mouth! The boy was lost out there for eighteen years because of our family's mistake! What right do you have to look down on him?" Arthur snapped fiercely. Richard didn't dare say another word. My mother, Eleanor, was sobbing quietly. "My son... how did he end up like this..." Right at that moment, Julian burst into the room. He threw himself to the floor, dropping to his knees right in front of Arthur. "Grandpa! I've called you Grandpa for eighteen years!" he cried, his voice tearing with grief. "I don't want to leave the Sterling family! I don't want to go live in poverty!" Arthur looked down at him, a flicker of pity crossing his eyes. "The Sterling family raised you for eighteen years. From now on, whether you choose to stay or leave, the decision is yours." The crying stopped instantly. Julian turned his head and glared at me. His eyes held a bizarre mix of malice and smugness. At dinnertime, the long dining table was covered in a feast. In front of every seat lay an array of silverware I had never seen before in my life. My mother, Eleanor, spoke to me in a lecturing tone: "Taylor, when eating Western cuisine, you hold the fork in your left hand and the knife in your right..." I furrowed my brow. When we ate at the construction site, we grabbed a massive bowl, piled it high with whatever food was there, and shoveled it down in five minutes flat. Who had time for all these stupid, overly complicated rules?! I reached out with my bare hand, grabbed the thick cut of steak in front of me, and shoved it into my mouth. My action brought a sudden, dead silence to the entire dining room. Everyone stared at me, absolutely dumbfounded. Eleanor's face flushed red, then went pale. She looked mortified. Richard's face was as dark as a thundercloud. Julian immediately let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "So vulgar and unrefined! You actually grab your food with your bare hands? What's the difference between you and a monkey?" "You're going to completely destroy the Sterling family's reputation!" Richard pointed a trembling finger at me, his lips shaking with rage. I looked at Julian, completely unbothered. "As long as it fills the stomach, who cares?" "Eating is just eating. Why make up so many exhausting rules? Doesn't it tire you out?" Julian's laughter caught in his throat, his face turning beet red. I was someone who traded my sweat and blood for a meal on a construction site. I was never going to belong to the same world as these rich people and their obsessive "rituals." I stood up and shot a look of pure disgust at the fake, pretentious rich boy. "Also, don't call me your brother." "I'm not used to playing 'brother' with a useless piece of trash who probably can't even lift a five-gallon bucket of water." "You!" Julian's face turned a violent shade of crimson. Just as Richard was about to explode in anger, the patriarch, who had been sitting silently at the head of the table, suddenly let out a booming, hearty laugh. "Hahaha! Good! Well said!" Arthur looked at me, his eyes shining with approval. "Doesn't care about trivial details, speaks his mind directly! That personality... it reminds me a bit of myself back in the day!" The old man reached out his own hand, grabbed a lamb chop, and took a massive bite. "Refreshing!" This scene left everyone in the room completely stupefied. Julian stared at his usually strict and traditional grandfather in absolute disbelief. I allowed the corner of my mouth to curve up slightly. This Sterling family patriarch... he was an interesting guy. It seemed this life in high society was going to be a bit more entertaining than I had anticipated. 2 That dinner ended on a sour note. My father, Richard, kept a dark scowl on his face the entire time. After I had eaten my fill, the butler led me to a massive bedroom. The en-suite bathroom was larger than the entire apartment I used to rent. Early the next morning, I was woken up by a sharp knocking on my door. "Young Master Taylor, the etiquette instructor Master Julian hired for you has arrived. Please come downstairs," the butler's voice echoed from the hallway. Julian? What was he plotting now? I went downstairs and saw Julian standing in the living room. Next to him stood a middle-aged woman. The woman had her chin tilted aggressively high. she scanned me from head to toe, her eyes dripping with judgment. "Taylor, is it? From today onward, I am your etiquette instructor. You slouch when you stand, you slouch when you sit. All of that needs to be corrected," she said, her voice gratingly shrill. A cold smirk played on Julian's lips. "Brother, you just got back from the outside world, you don't know our rules. So, I specifically hired Mrs. Davis, the best instructor in the city, just for you," he said, dripping with fake sincerity. "You need to study hard so you don't embarrass the Sterling family again." Watching them put on this little two-person play, I just found it hilarious. "The first thing we will learn is posture," Mrs. Davis said, tapping my back sharply. "Straighten up! Core tight! Chin up!" "Next is walking." She placed a thick hardcover book on top of my head. "Balance this. Walk perfectly along this line. The book cannot fall." "I'm not doing it," I said calmly. "What did you say?" Julian couldn't believe his ears. "I said, I'm not doing it!" I looked right at him and repeated myself. "I just want to ask you one thing: when Grandpa was fighting his way up in the business world, crushing his rivals, did he do it by practicing how to walk in a perfectly straight line?" The moment the words left my mouth, the entire living room fell dead silent. Julian's smirk froze on his face. Even Richard and Eleanor, who had just walked down the stairs, stopped dead in their tracks. I didn't spare them another glance. I turned around and walked right out the front door. The etiquette lessons were ultimately canceled because the patriarch simply said, "Let the boy be." When his first plan failed, Julian immediately hatched another. A few days later. He organized a small, private wine-tasting gathering at the house and invited a few friends from his elite social circle. His excuse was that it was to help me integrate into high society as quickly as possible. An oil painting hung in the living room. I couldn't make heads or tails of it. Julian, swirling a glass of red wine, walked over to me. He pointed at the painting and asked loudly, intentionally drawing everyone's attention: "Brother, what do you think of this masterpiece? Dad won it at an auction for eight million dollars." The painting was a chaotic mess of bright, clashing colors. It just made my eyes hurt. I stayed silent for a moment before speaking. "This painting... the layout isn't bad." Julian looked surprised. He clearly hadn't expected me to say that. I continued: "Especially this section here, and over here. There's a lot of blank, white space. It would be perfect for keeping a ledger." "Back on the construction site, I always looked for blank walls like this. I'd write down exactly which foreman owed me how much money, and what day payday was. Nice and clear." "Pfft—" I don't know who broke first, but someone couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing. Immediately, a chorus of mocking laughter and snide whispers erupted around the room. "He actually wants to use an eight-million-dollar painting as a ledger? Is he insane?" "A hillbilly is a hillbilly. Showing him fine art is an insult to the artist!" Julian looked incredibly smug. He squeezed the words out through gritted teeth: "You... you are a total joke!" I ignored him entirely and grabbed a glass of red wine from a nearby tray. Seeing this, Julian immediately launched another attack: "That is a 1982 Lafite. You have to sip it slowly..." Before he could finish his pretentious warning, I tipped my head back and downed the entire glass of Lafite in one gulp. Exactly like I was drinking a cheap beer at a greasy spoon near the job site. I even smacked my lips to give my review. "Sour as hell. Tastes worse than a ten-dollar bottle of cheap vodka from the corner store." The living room was plunged into silence once again. Everyone stared at me like I was an alien that had just crash-landed. Julian pointed a shaking finger at me, stuttering "You, you, you" for several seconds without managing to form a coherent sentence. Right at that moment, the butler walked over. "Young Master Taylor, the Patriarch requests your presence in his study." Seeing me enter, Grandpa Arthur pointed to a large, detailed diorama on a table. "Come here. Look at this." It was an architectural model for a massive new development project. It was incredibly intricate. "This is the Southside Resort project the corporation is currently developing." My grandfather's sharp eyes locked onto me. "What are your thoughts?" I froze. I was a bricklayer. What did I know about multi-million-dollar commercial developments? I knew absolutely nothing about business strategy, urban planning, or architectural design. I forced myself to examine the model, my eyes eventually settling on the tallest, primary structure. After spending years grinding it out on construction sites, I had developed a natural, almost instinctual understanding of structural integrity. I reached out and pointed directly at the base of that main building. "Right here. There's a fatal flaw in the load-bearing structure." Arthur's eyes narrowed sharply. "The placement of these primary support beams is wrong. The weight distribution is off-center. Plus, it's situated right next to a lake. The foundation won't be stable," I said, frowning as I laid out my analysis. "It looks fine right now on paper, but once that building goes up, people move in, and you get hit with a few heavy rainstorms..." I paused, looking my grandfather dead in the eye, and delivered my conclusion. "If this building is actually constructed according to these blueprints, it will collapse within three years. Guaranteed." Arthur's pupils contracted again. He stared at me. He didn't say he believed me, and he didn't say he didn't. He just looked at me in silence for a very long time. "You may leave," he said, waving his hand. As soon as I was gone, Arthur picked up the phone. "Bring all the structural blueprints for the Southside project to my study immediately! Yes, every single one!" Outside the study door, a shadow slipped away quickly. It was Julian, hiding in the dark. He had clearly heard what my grandfather muttered to the butler right after I left the room: "This boy Taylor... he's a diamond in the rough!" 3 Ever since he eavesdropped outside the study, the way Julian looked at me changed. It wasn't just toxic resentment anymore; it had morphed into a deranged, desperate obsession to destroy me. Julian's hatred had reached its absolute peak. One evening, the atmosphere at the family dinner was thick with tension. Julian sat in silence, his head down, lost in some dark thought. I just focused on inhaling my food. Suddenly, Arthur put down his fork at the head of the table. "I took a tour of the Southside project site today," the old man said, his voice heavy and serious. "Due to a critical technical error, the entire project has been halted. We are bleeding money." His gaze slowly swept over me and Julian. "I've decided to give you two an opportunity." "Starting tomorrow, you will both join the project task force. Whoever can solve this crisis..." The old man paused, then dropped a bombshell: "Whoever solves it... will have the opportunity to secure the inheritance rights to the Sterling empire!" "Dad! The Southside project is massive! Taylor just got back; he knows absolutely nothing. Letting him get involved is completely reckless!" Richard, my father, was the first to object. "He's right, Grandpa! That's a multi-billion-dollar investment. We can't treat it like a game!" Julian eagerly chimed in. My aunt, Victoria, sat there with a faint smirk playing on her lips, not saying a word. I stood up and bowed deeply to Arthur. "Grandpa, I accept the challenge!" Julian let out a slow, loaded smile. In his eyes, I was just an arrogant, ignorant fool actively digging my own grave. Early the next morning, two cars pulled out of the Sterling estate. Julian rode in a Bentley, surrounded by several assistants, all wearing sharp suits and holding open laptops. I rode in a rugged SUV. The driver was a man my grandfather had assigned to me—a retired military veteran. The Southside construction site was completely shut down. As soon as he stepped out of the car, Julian's team marched straight to the project management office. The project director, a heavy-set man named Mr. Peterson, immediately plastered on a sycophantic smile when he saw Julian. But when his eyes landed on me, that smile vanished instantly. Mr. Peterson looked me up and down. "And this is?" "My brother, Taylor. He's here to learn the ropes with me," Julian introduced me dismissively. I ignored all the flashy data charts and complex blueprints they had laid out. I grabbed a hard hat and walked out into the construction site alone. An hour later, I returned to the project office. In the conference room, Julian was standing in front of a projection screen, pointing at a 3D model, talking with total confidence. "...Based on my precise calculations, the micro-fractures appearing in the load-bearing walls are caused by a deviation in the concrete mix ratio. We simply need to implement a new 'High-Fiber Polymer' secondary reinforcement protocol, and the problem will be solved!" As he finished, the room erupted into applause. Mr. Peterson and his team of engineers looked at Julian with absolute adoration. "Young Master Julian truly is a top-tier scholar! This solution is flawless!" "Incredibly scientific! The project is saved!" Seeing me standing in the doorway, Julian intentionally raised his voice. "Brother, you've been wandering around outside. Do you have any brilliant insights?" I walked straight over to the window and pointed at the massive expanse of dirt outside. "The problem isn't the walls. It's underground," I said, my voice heavy. Julian let out a cold scoff. "Underground? Our geological survey reports are crystal clear. The geological structure is completely stable." "Reports have an expiration date, but foundations are dynamic," I said, pointing toward the large artificial lake nearby. "They excavated too deep over there, and they've hit an underground river. The earth beneath this site isn't solid rock anymore. It's the dry season right now, so it looks fine. But the second we get a heavy rainstorm, the groundwater pressure will spike, and the foundation will start to sink." I paused, looking at the main structure that had already been topped off. "When that happens, forget about 'reinforcing' the walls. The entire building is going to tilt. The cracks you're seeing now are just the beginning!" The conference room fell into a stunned silence for a few seconds, followed immediately by hushed, mocking whispers. "An underground river? Does this guy think he's in an Indiana Jones movie?" "Basing engineering on 'gut feelings'? This is an absolute joke!" "A bricklayer daring to lecture professional engineers? Ignorance truly is bliss!" Mr. Peterson chuckled and turned to Julian. "Young Master Julian, your brother is quite the comedian." "Brother, science isn't based on imagination." Julian shook his head condescendingly. "You really should just stay out of this." "Mr. Peterson!" Julian turned, waving his hand authoritatively. "Notify the construction crews immediately! Implement my protocol and resume work at once!" "Yes, sir, right away, Young Master!" Mr. Peterson bowed and scraped eagerly. Everyone in that room was looking at me like I was a clown. Staring at their faces, filled with contempt and disdain, I didn't say another word. I quietly walked out of the conference room. I looked up at the sky. The sky had suddenly turned a violent, bruised purple. A jagged bolt of lightning ripped across the horizon! Followed immediately by a deafening crack of thunder! Massive drops of rain began slamming into the dirt without warning. A torrential downpour had arrived, just like that! My heart sank. It was happening! Right at that moment, a terrified scream tore through the air! "Look! The main tower!" The next second, the color drained from everyone's faces. Through the sheets of driving rain, the massive main structure was slowly, visibly... tilting! The ground beneath our feet was vibrating slightly! "The building's coming down! Run!" Someone screamed, and the entire construction site instantly devolved into absolute, chaotic panic! Workers scattered like frightened mice. The engineers looked like death. Mr. Peterson's legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the muddy ground. Hundreds of millions of dollars in investment, a skyscraper dozens of stories high, was about to become a mountain of rubble! Julian stood frozen in place, staring at the apocalyptic scene unfolding before him, his face as white as a sheet of paper. In the midst of this utter chaos, I snatched a hard hat off the head of a worker running past me and slammed it onto my own head: "Don't panic! Everyone, follow me!" 4 Everyone stared at me in shock. The building was about to collapse. Charging toward it now was a suicide mission, wasn't it? I didn't have time to argue with them. I grabbed the nearest engineer by the collar. "Where are the industrial water pumps and the backup generators?!" I roared at him. "In... in the east warehouse..." he stammered, his entire body shaking. "Take a crew, haul every single working pump down to the edge of the artificial lake! Pump the water out of the lake basin as fast as humanly possible!" I then pointed at the construction foreman. "You! Get cement and quick-setting accelerator! As much as you have! Grab your most experienced veterans and follow me to the foundation!" My orders were simple, blunt, and aggressive. "You're insane, Taylor!" Julian finally snapped out of his shock. He ran over and grabbed my arm. "The building is going down! What the hell are you doing?" "Shut up!" I ripped my arm out of his grasp and glared at him coldly. "Your textbook theories can't save this building. But my method just might!" I led a group of veteran construction workers charging into the wall of rain, heading straight for the dangerously tilting structure. We rushed to the leeward side of the building. The foundation there had visibly sunk, and muddy water was bubbling up from the earth. "Right here! And over there!" I pointed to the critical load-bearing points. "Mix the cement and the accelerator right now! Move!" At the same time, the roar of the industrial water pumps echoed from the other side of the site. All the pile drivers were hauled over. Following my directions, they began furiously driving supports into the ground. Grouting, pressure relief, drainage... The rain slowly began to ease up. I don't know how much time passed, but the tilting of the massive structure finally stopped! Even though it was still leaning slightly, it hadn't collapsed. The workers and veterans surrounding me looked at the miraculously stabilized building, and then looked at me, completely covered in mud. Their eyes shifted from shock to deep, profound respect. Just then, a sleek black sedan sped up and slammed on its brakes at the entrance of the site. The door opened, and Grandpa Arthur, supported by Aunt Victoria, stepped out. He saw the slightly tilted structure. He saw me, looking like a mud monster. And he saw Julian standing a short distance away, looking as pale as a ghost. Arthur walked straight through the crowd, stopping right in front of me. He looked at me, then looked up at the building. His expression was a complex storm of emotions. "How did you do that?" he asked. I wiped a mixture of rainwater and mud off my face. "The building is safe, for now," I said, looking at my grandfather, my voice perfectly calm. "But it's only temporary. If the foundation issue isn't permanently resolved, it will eventually collapse. The repair costs alone will be at least a hundred million dollars." The crowd around us inhaled sharply. Julian swayed on his feet, barely able to stay standing. Arthur slammed his cane hard into the mud. He demanded furiously, "And who is going to bear the responsibility for this hundred-million-dollar loss?" Julian immediately lowered his head, not daring to make a sound. Meeting my grandfather's sharp gaze, I straightened my back. "I will!" Arthur looked at me. For the first time, his eyes held genuine, unadulterated admiration. He turned around and pointed his cane directly at Julian, who looked like a walking corpse. "Julian!" "Grandpa..." Julian's voice was shaking uncontrollably. "Effective immediately, you are stripped of all duties and positions within the Sterling Corporation! You are grounded until further notice!" My grandfather's command was absolute; no one dared to argue. Then, in front of everyone, he pointed at me and announced to the entire project team: "From this day forward, Taylor is in absolute, total command of the Southside project!"
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