After the Reborn Young Master Embraced a Life of Wellness – Chapter 91

Xiao Lin wasn’t the only one who thought Mr. Xi had a short temper lately.

The people who felt it most clearly were the Xi family themselves. After all, since he had recently moved back to the old residence to recover from his injury, and then experienced the passing of his boyfriend’s grandfather, it was understandable that his mood had been terrible.

That was how the younger generation of the Xi family consoled themselves.

“The classes at our school are already overwhelming, and now we’re being forced to attend some kind of winter camp training,” someone grumbled among the group who dared not voice their complaints too loudly. A few of them had previously played cards in Xi Siyan’s courtyard and were now wisely avoiding President Xi. They had gradually gotten closer to Chen Mo, who seemed gentler and more easygoing. They couldn’t help but ask, “Brother Mo, since you got into Q University, your IQ must be as freakishly high as Brother Yan’s, right?”

This was during the Xi family’s family banquet.

Everyone present was an important member of the Xi clan, and Chen Mo had been invited as a guest.

At 8 p.m., since many elders were there, Chen Mo had a few drinks—not too much, as Xi Siyan wouldn’t let him drink heavily—but it still left his head a little fuzzy. So, he stepped outside into the courtyard for some fresh air. As he sat on a stone bench, the younger ones surrounded him. When he heard their question, he chuckled and waved it off: “I’m an average student—just someone who works hard.”

“If people like you are just hard-working, what does that make us? Defective products the Creator left unfinished?”

“Why does everything have to be so competitive?”

“Mediocrity in the mouths of geniuses really isn’t the same as ours. For example, I’m just flat-out dumb.”

Chen Mo laughed until his shoulders shook.

He used to think the Xi family was stuffy and rigid, and that Xi Siyan must be a rebel by nature.

After all, he liked men, founded CM to break away from the Xi family’s business empire, and never seemed interested in playing by the family’s rules. But once he actually spent time with the younger generation of the Xi family, Chen Mo realized that the atmosphere among them was relaxed. Having sound personalities and good manners was simply the basic standard in a family like this. With the best environment and access to elite education, when they joked about being dumb, it was just self-deprecating humor.

Of course, Xi Siyan was an exception.

To this group of highly accomplished youth, he was the one target no one could surpass—the nightmare they’d all been compared to since they were kids.

Now this “nightmare” had officially taken over the family business. If he wanted to transfer you, your parents would nod in agreement.

Chen Mo sympathized. He comforted them: “Brother Yan was admitted through competitive recommendation, and only went abroad later. He’s been through countless training camps and contests. He has experience. It’s not as terrifying as you think.”

Someone quickly asked, “Then, Brother Mo, were you also recommended through competitions?”

“I wasn’t,” Chen Mo choked for a second, feeling an unusual moment of guilt. “I took the college entrance exam. I didn’t push myself in high school. Competitions were… too intense for me. It’s hard work.”

“See? Even Brother Mo says the training camps are too brutal.”

“Can we not go?”

“Then go talk to your dads yourself. This winter camp is sponsored by the Xi family, and Brother Yan already gave it the green light. You dare skip it?”

“Brother Mo follows the rules. He’s not that outrageous.”

“But based on Brother Yan’s IQ, don’t you think anyone who can’t handle a competition has an underdeveloped cerebellum?”

Chen Mo was both amused and confused.

He interrupted, “Brother Yan walked that path himself. He would never assume everyone should do the same.”

At least in high school, Chen Mo remembered his math teacher asked him more than once if he wanted to enter competitions. After he declined, Xi Siyan never pushed him. He wasn’t the type who forced his ideals on others.

Chen Mo’s current résumé sounded impressive.

But what he said was true—he was someone who relied on hard work.

High school had been a strange period, but in the final year leading up to the college entrance exam, he spent countless late nights studying. The only difference between this and his previous life was the reason—this time, he had his own goals, and he wasn’t doing it to prove anything to anyone.

University, the company, the lab—those took up nearly all his time.

The dazzling senior admired by incoming freshmen at Q University, the rising star of intelligent technology, the omnipotent boss to his subordinates—those titles were all built from endless days and nights of pushing himself forward without rest.

The only time he truly let go of himself was in high school.

Back then, Xi Siyan was still able to spot him in a crowd with precision. One tutoring session helped Chen Mo slowly get back on track and find direction in his life.

In fact, it all started the day of his grandfather’s funeral.

Chen Mo once asked Xi Siyan: “Do you think the ‘you’ you saw back then… was really you?”

Xi Siyan answered no.

He said, “I think the ‘him’ you saw may have just been an obsession born from regret. I prefer to believe that my love for you isn’t predestined. It’s just… inevitable that I’d fall for you.”

Even if it were a completely new version of Xi Siyan—even if he didn’t remember the missed chances and lingering regrets.

Anyone who encountered Chen Mo, cared about him, couldn’t let him go… was the real Xi Siyan of this life.

There’s no need to feel sorry for the past Xi Siyan—that was a punishment he deserved.

What truly broke his heart was that Chen Mo remembered it all.

Because he remembered, he carried the burden. And he walked this path alone.

At that moment, Xi Siyan was still seated in the dining room.

The family banquet was wrapping up, and the old man had already gone to rest.

The table was littered with wine glasses and dishes, with only a few people left chatting. Xi Jianxing sat beside Xi Siyan. Glancing at the courtyard, he remarked, “The old man really likes him.”

“Not surprising,” Xi Siyan said. He had drunk quite a bit, but with his strong tolerance, it barely showed. He gazed outside and said, “A lot of people like him.”

“You’re really something,” Xi Jianxing chuckled. “I didn’t think you’d be such a lovesick fool.”

Xi Siyan leaned back in his chair and unbuttoned his collar lazily.

He ignored Xi Jianxing, who had always loved teasing him since childhood, and frowned slightly. “What’s going on out there? They’ve been clinging to him for so long. I’m going to check it out.”

He was about to get up when Xi Jianxing tugged him back down.

“Don’t,” Xi Jianxing sighed. “They’ve been afraid of you since they were kids. Why go scare them now?”

He patted his shoulder and continued, “Stop watching him so closely. You’re acting like a clingy boyfriend. And by the way, you’ve been making too much noise lately trying to catch Ren Xiansen. Lay low a bit.”

Xi Siyan slowly tapped the table with his fingers, his gaze darkening. “We must catch him.”

Xi Jianxing frowned in confusion. “He nearly got you in trouble overseas years ago, but you didn’t go this hard then. Why now? You’ve been acting like you were when you first got abroad… ruthless.”

Xi Siyan said nothing.

There was no need to explain the past grudge with Ren Xiansen. Now that the man had lost power, most people believed it wasn’t worth the effort to hunt him down.

But there was only one reason Xi Siyan was going this far.

Among all the fragments he had seen—

Ren Xiansen was connected to Chen Mo’s death.

The boss of Yang Group’s rival company turned out to be UA, pulling strings from behind the scenes.

Back in the day, before new blood entered the scene and before CM Group emerged, UA had been eager to break into the domestic market. At that time, Chen Mo was the vice president of Yang Group. Though he had seemingly lost to Yang Zhi in the struggle over company shares, he still wielded considerable power within the organization.

The circumstances now may look entirely different, but if you look closely, some key players from the past are still around in this life.

Xi Siyan couldn’t allow a threat like that to exist within the city.

Even a one-in-ten-thousand chance wasn’t acceptable.

Without waiting for a response, Xi Jianxing frowned and said, “If it really can’t be resolved, leave it to me.”

Xi Jianxing wasn’t offering lightly.

Five years ago, he had nearly died abroad. Since then, he’d passed all business affairs to his nephew, Xi Siyan.

Most in the family—and outsiders too—believed he’d always been the idle educator the Xi family had conveniently kept around. What they didn’t know was that much of the Xi family’s gray-zone dealings had been handled by him, especially in recent years. After suffering that blow, he had become more low-profile, but his methods had only grown more cunning.

“I’ll let Han Qian handle this,” Xi Siyan said with a calm tone.

At the mention of that name, Xi Jianxing’s expression darkened momentarily—an emotion caught between shame and anger—but he quickly masked it and said, “Yes, he grew up in the Xi family. And in recent years, he’s learned to be just as sly as you. But when it comes to this kind of thing, he may not act as fast as I can.”

Xi Siyan raised an eyebrow and glanced at him. “Do you have a problem with him?”

“No.” The answer came too quickly, making his attempt to hide something all the more obvious.

Xi Siyan didn’t press further.

He didn’t have the time.

Because at that moment, Chen Mo finally came in from the yard.

Ever since the Rhine Ark residence had burned down, he’d been gradually replacing his daily necessities. Xi Siyan had only just moved into the villa when a series of car accidents occurred, forcing him to relocate to the Xi family’s ancestral home.

So right now, Chen Mo was wearing Xi Siyan’s clothes.

But not his current wardrobe—it was a custom-made outfit from high school. Xi Siyan had kept it because it didn’t suit his style: a black, embroidered casual shirt he had never worn. The simple bamboo leaf motifs on the left shoulder and right arm flowed down loosely, half-tucked into the waistband.

In that moment, Chen Mo looked like a rich young master—very different from his usual self.

He had just walked up when Xi Siyan grabbed him.

Chen Mo raised an eyebrow and glanced down. “Are you drunk? Your injury just started to heal—I told you to drink less.”

“I’m not.” Xi Siyan brushed the back of Chen Mo’s hand and pulled him to sit down beside him.

At this moment, Xi Jianxing tilted his head and said firmly, “A bit of wine won’t get him drunk. Speaking of which, I still feel guilty about what happened to you two five years ago.”

Chen Mo smiled faintly. “We kept in touch those years, but not that much.”

“I still feel bad about it,” Xi Jianxing said, slightly flushed from the alcohol. He turned his thumb and gestured at Xi Siyan with his chin, then said to Chen Mo, “You don’t know what he was like abroad—completely loveless. Don’t be fooled by how he acts now. He once got so drunk and lost his phone that he panicked. In the middle of the night, he activated every overseas contact the Xi family had. Everyone thought it was some critical confidential intel. But you know what he said? That the phone had your chat history and photos.”

Xi Jianxing shook his head, still stunned as he recalled the incident, even after so many years.

Chen Mo looked over at Xi Siyan.

Xi Siyan didn’t deny it. He simply held Chen Mo’s hand, cradling it in his own palm and occasionally giving it a soft squeeze.

—

On the way back.

Chen Mo asked, “Was what Second Uncle said true?”

“…Most of it.”

“Where’s your phone? Let me see.”

Chen Mo quickly got a hold of the phone, which had a sleek black metal case. The lock screen was a photo of himself sleeping in a classroom during high school.

He lowered his gaze and called out, “Xi Siyan.”

“What is it?” Xi Siyan was walking ahead, still holding Chen Mo’s hand. He turned around upon hearing the call.

Chen Mo looked up at him and asked, “Want to change it?”

“Huh?”

Click.

The boy once dozing off on a classroom desk had now become the young man in the camera—dressed in a loose shirt that couldn’t hide his slim waist, straddling someone’s lap. The bedroom’s dim lighting made the shot look almost dreamlike—intimate, suggestive.

Faint, indistinct sounds drifted in the background of the room.

“Change it,” Chen Mo said.

“This one?”

“No. Tell me the truth, Xi Siyan—did you ever do anything weird to my high school photos?”

“What do you think?”

“You’re getting back at me, aren’t you? For that time in high school when we were video calling in the shower and I deliberately said I wouldn’t do anything to your face.”

“You can do whatever you want,” someone muttered, clearly trying to deflect. “I never said no at the time.”