After the Reborn Young Master Embraced a Life of Wellness – Chapter 83

It was already late at night when they returned to Suicheng.

Maybe it was because the night wind carried a slight chill, but Chen Mo felt an unusual cold creep across his back, making him frown.

The group split up after arrival. Of everyone on Xinrui’s side, only Lao K had arranged for an assistant to drive over to pick him up. Unfortunately, with the assistant added in, the car was now full—leaving one person without a seat.

Yuan Hao took the initiative and said, “I’ll just take a taxi.”

“You go on ahead,” Chen Mo looked at the time and said to the others, “You’re all heading in the same direction anyway. I’ll go by myself—saves you from making an extra loop.”

Chen Mo, after all, was their leader. It would be absurd for his subordinates to get chauffeured while he was left behind.

The two colleagues from the sales department were visibly startled and quickly objected, “Mr. Chen, that won’t do. You should go first. We’re not kids, we can make it back just fine.”

Just as the group was politely trying to decline, a low-key luxury black car slid smoothly to a stop at the curb.

The rear window rolled down, revealing a familiar profile—it was none other than the boss of CM.

Xi Siyan tilted his head slightly, as if casually greeting them, and asked, “Still haven’t left?”

“Boss Xi,” the colleague quickly smiled and bowed slightly. “We’ll be on our way soon.”

Xi Siyan glanced at Chen Mo, standing next to him, and said calmly, “I’ll take Mr. Chen with me. It’s getting late—everyone should head home and get some rest.”

Yuan Hao was the first to react.

He quickly shoved the two dawdling coworkers into their car, gave a hasty goodbye to Chen Mo, and ordered the assistant to drive immediately.

Inside Xi Siyan’s car, aside from the driver Xiao Lin, there was no one else.

The moment Chen Mo got in, Xiao Lin quietly raised the rear privacy partition.

Chen Mo looked up at it, but said nothing. Instead, he turned to the man next to him and asked, “Where are the others?”

“Han Qian is handling their drop-off,” Xi Siyan replied, setting the notebook on his lap aside. “You haven’t rested properly these past few days. I saw you still editing copy on the plane—get some sleep. I’ll wake you when we arrive.”

Chen Mo pinched his brow but didn’t refuse.

He simply curled up and laid down across Xi Siyan’s lap. Adjusting his position, he turned onto his back, settled in, and closed his eyes.

Truthfully, he wasn’t that sleepy—just had a persistent headache from overusing his brain.

Chen Mo had several questions he wanted to ask.

For instance, how was the UA investigation progressing? Was Lunard really under control, or had he, as rumored, fled the country as soon as the scandal broke? And—was Xi Siyan planning to sleep at all?

These questions floated through his mind. But once his eyes shut, a deep wave of exhaustion washed over him.

His head rested on Xi Siyan’s lap, surrounded by his familiar scent.

He only had time to mumble, “You’re not leaving tonight, right?”

“I need to go to the office,” Xi Siyan said, gently draping his coat over him. “The two pieces of evidence submitted against UA have some issues. I have to resubmit them to the public security bureau.”

Chen Mo thought back to the two recent attacks on him and said, “Be careful. Even if we’re in the country now, desperate people might still take risks.”

Xi Siyan reassured him softly. Chen Mo then turned sideways, buried his face into Xi Siyan’s waist, and soon slipped into deep sleep.

But halfway through, he felt cold again.

His throat was dry.

He tried to call out to Xi Siyan, but his voice came out so faint, it was barely audible. Still, he felt a response—Xi Siyan’s hand touched his forehead, followed by the low, serious tone of a man on the phone.

“Yes. The fever has started. It’s escalating rapidly… We’re on the way—ten more minutes…”

So it really was a fever.

Chen Mo guessed he was probably making arrangements for a doctor.

His mind was foggy, eyelids too heavy to lift.

It felt like sleep paralysis. He knew he should wake up, but his limbs felt bound, like they belonged to someone else.

Inevitably, this reminded him of those years when he was around 27 or 28. When inflammation in his knees would cause intermittent low-grade fevers. Nightmares left him drenched in sweat, but he’d force himself to wake up, clutching tightly to the rage, defiance, and unwillingness he needed to survive. He buried himself in work, led his teams through brutal negotiations, and demanded excellence from everyone—including himself.

Back then, Chen Mo knew very clearly: it wasn’t a natural instinct to survive.

He needed those intense emotions to feel alive. If he let go of that anger, that pressure—he’d have collapsed into the mud long ago.

But now, even with this familiar sensation of being shackled by fatigue and illness—he didn’t feel the urge to struggle.

Because this time, he knew—

Someone was holding onto him.

He felt the strength of an arm wrapped around his shoulders, and a voice in his ear: “We’re almost there.”

When the car finally stopped, Chen Mo forced his eyes open.

What he saw first was Xi Siyan’s sharp jawline—tensed with focused concern.

Groggy, Chen Mo sat up slightly. His lips accidentally brushed Xi Siyan’s chin. He mumbled, “I’m fine. Just… feeling a little regretful. What should I do?”

Xi Siyan was helping him sit up, still worried about the fever. He lowered his voice and asked, “What do you regret?”

“That I ever missed you,” Chen Mo murmured.

It was barely above a whisper—so soft that it felt like a thought he meant only for himself. Even if Xi Siyan had heard, it would have seemed like no more than a sigh.

After saying that, he clung to Xi Siyan’s shoulder and slowly sat up. Touching his forehead, still dazed, he muttered, “I felt a bit cold at the airport. Thought it was nothing. Didn’t expect to catch a cold after all.”

As he spoke, he turned his face away.

So he didn’t see it—

Didn’t see Xi Siyan’s clenched fists.

Didn’t see the subtle shake in his expression, or the overwhelming emotion he had to crush down to stay composed.

Xi Siyan’s heart was in turmoil.

For a moment, he even wondered if he was being paranoid—or if he had misheard.

If it weren’t for those prophetic dreams, he never would have let his mind wander in such a wild direction. And he hadn’t had a single dream in a long time—especially not since getting back together with Chen Mo. The threats around them had been neutralized. The urgency, the fear, the nightmare-like tension from those dreams had faded.

But this—

This shook him all over again.

But now, he suddenly realized—there were things he had absolutely no idea about.

Chen Mo said, “Just drop me off here. I’ll go in myself. I’ll call you later.”

Just as he stood up, Xi Siyan pulled him back.

His eyes were dark, unreadable. “What makes you think work is more important than you are? Leaving your boyfriend outside the hospital alone—once wasn’t enough?”

Chen Mo was stunned for a moment, then laughed. “I don’t mind.”

Xi Siyan ignored his comment.

Now wasn’t the time to argue.

Chen Mo’s body temperature was scalding hot, but he still looked like nothing was wrong. Yet from Xi Siyan’s perspective, the high fever had turned the corners of his eyes red, and his lips pale.

Without hesitation, Xi Siyan carried him out of the car.

—

Twenty minutes later, Chen Mo was successfully on an IV drip.

Blood test results showed a viral infection and mild anemia, so Xi Siyan arranged for him to be admitted to a VIP ward. Under Xi Siyan’s insistence, a full day of comprehensive tests was scheduled for the following day.

“You’re not sleepy?” Chen Mo asked, half-sitting against the headboard with his shoes still on, as he watched Xi Siyan walk back in after a phone call.

“I’m fine,” Xi Siyan replied.

Chen Mo scrutinized his face.

Ever since they entered the hospital, he’d sensed something was off about Xi Siyan—but he couldn’t put his finger on it. It was like something was being carefully hidden.

Chen Mo frowned slightly. “You sure it’s okay to not go to the office?”

“It’s not urgent,” Xi Siyan said as he stepped forward and adjusted the IV flow.

“Don’t hide things from me.” Chen Mo’s tone was even, “Even if UA is under investigation, it’s not something that’ll resolve in a day or two. This is a crucial window. If it’s really important, go deal with it. I’m fine. Even if they’re doing tests tomorrow, I can have Yuan Hao come with me.”

Xi Siyan let him finish without interruption.

When Chen Mo stopped talking, Xi Siyan replied in a calm voice, “You done? Then get some sleep.”

At this point, Chen Mo knew he wouldn’t be able to convince him.

But thinking about how the man had been on an intense three-day business trip, rushed home late at night, and now had to deal with him having a high fever—

Chen Mo lifted the blanket, patted the space next to him, and said, “Then sleep with me for a bit, yeah?”

“This bed’s too small,” Xi Siyan glanced at the single hospital bed, then into Chen Mo’s eyes. “You need proper rest. I’ll sleep on the couch later.”

Chen Mo wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Get up here. Or do you want to argue with me all night?”

Xi Siyan stared at him for a few seconds, then compromised. He walked around to the other side and climbed into bed.

The hospital’s iron-framed bed creaked under their combined weight. Xi Siyan silently pulled Chen Mo into his arms. From the angle Chen Mo couldn’t see, Xi Siyan lowered his chin and gently touched the top of Chen Mo’s head. The room fell silent for a few moments.

“…In the car earlier—” Xi Siyan began.

“Hm?” Chen Mo tilted his head. “What about the car?”

Just then, a nurse pushed the door open.

The conversation ended there.

Xi Siyan didn’t like this feeling—knowing something was wrong, but not being able to address it. It was a wedge between them. When the nurse entered, his face darkened noticeably. Whether it was because of his sharp expression or something else, Chen Mo noticed the nurse’s hands were trembling slightly as she came to change the IV.

But Chen Mo didn’t dwell on it. He turned to Xi Siyan and said he’d need to go back home early tomorrow morning to grab some things.

Xi Siyan didn’t answer.

Instead, he turned to the nurse and asked suddenly, “Aren’t single hospital beds restricted to one person?”

The nurse froze while injecting the medication and replied, in a low and unclear voice, “Y-Yes, that’s right…”

“Really?” Xi Siyan stared at her. “Let me see the IV bag. I don’t recall him needing additional medication.”

That’s when Chen Mo noticed something was wrong.

For some reason, the nurse’s eyes sharpened—and she suddenly pulled out a knife from her pocket and lunged straight at Chen Mo’s neck.

Xi Siyan reacted with terrifying speed. He braced one hand on the bed and swept his leg outward.

The nurse’s waist twisted violently, and she slammed into the medicine cart behind her. A loud clatter echoed through the ward.

Chen Mo immediately hit the emergency call button.

—

Ten minutes later, both their phones rang at the same time.

Chen Mo’s screen lit up with messages from colleagues—those who knew he lived in “Rhine Ark.”

“Mr. Chen??? Are you okay?!”

“Brother Mo, I just heard your place caught fire—are you alright?”

“Mr. Chen, it’s all over the internal circle. Are you safe???”

Chen Mo stared at the image on his phone—the video showed thick black smoke pouring from the floor of his apartment.

Then he turned his eyes toward the “nurse” who had been subdued and pinned to the ground by a bodyguard. The muscles on his forehead twitched visibly.

The call Xi Siyan received was from someone he had arranged to keep watch near Chen Mo’s residence—a Xi family security operative.

On the other end, the man quickly explained and apologized:

“Mr. Xi, I’m sorry. Since Mr. Chen was on a business trip, we temporarily withdrew our surveillance staff. Based on security footage, someone entered the residence yesterday afternoon. The cause of the fire appears to be arson. However, we can’t confirm whether the target was Mr. Chen himself—or something important he kept at home.”

Xi Siyan’s fear reached its peak at that moment.

Many people knew Chen Mo’s itinerary—but only a handful could have predicted that he would be going to the company that night.

If Chen Mo hadn’t had a fever…

He would’ve gone home. Gone to sleep.

Alone, in a building that would soon be engulfed in fire.

And now, with the nurse-turned-assailant subdued in front of them, it proved one thing beyond a doubt—

“The target wasn’t the data.”

It was Chen Mo’s life.

The atmosphere around them froze over like an arctic blast.

The temperature in Xi Siyan’s voice alone was enough to make both bodyguards lower their heads instinctively, not daring to look up again.