After the Reborn Young Master Embraced a Life of Wellness – Chapter 15

This Friday afternoon, school let out early, and there was no evening self-study.

The other two people in the dorm had gone home ahead of time. Chen Mo picked up a package from the guardhouse and returned to the dorm. Before he even opened it, a QQ notification from an anonymous friend he had just added popped up.

Did you send the money?

Chen Mo glanced at his phone, and two seconds later replied: Do a good deed every day.

Thinking the other person wouldn’t believe him, he added another line: I just saw your help-request post on the community forum.

The reply came quickly: It’s too much money.

Chen Mo: Aren’t you a college student? And a programming major? You might become an industry big shot one day. Just think of me as an investment—I’m not in any hurry to get a return in five or ten years.

Half a minute later, the other side replied: Thank you.

Chen Mo: You’re welcome.

Chen Mo smiled at the dark phone screen.

He hadn’t planned on telling the other person his real identity—no one would believe that someone who could casually hand out that much money was currently a second-year high school student.

Twenty-eight-year-old Chen Mo hadn’t only been busy fighting Yang Zhi like ants on a hot pan. He also owned a small, newly established tech company. Since it wasn’t legally registered under his name, few people knew about it.

His partner was a tech genius specializing in artificial intelligence.

That partner was this very poor college student on the other end of the chat, currently unable to raise enough medical fees for his mother, who was paralyzed from the waist down. In the future, he would be known as Old K—just as serious and taciturn as he sounded now.

On the day of the accident, Chen Mo had few regrets, but Old K was one of them.

The company had just gotten off the ground, and then the investor—Chen Mo—died, leaving it behind. He had only recently joined forces with Yang Zhi and didn’t have much capital left.

Whether Old K eventually found a suitable investor was unknown.

Chen Mo couldn’t make up for it now; this was all he could do.

He opened his phone and checked on the investments he’d made recently. Today, they had finally begun generating returns. Although there was a hint of speculation involved, he had at least relied on theories he’d learned and experience accumulated over the years. He hadn’t thought about winning a hundred-million lottery jackpot—not only because he couldn’t recall the numbers, but also because it would be foolish to leave easy money sitting around.

Chen Mo closed the earnings interface without the slightest psychological burden.

Another message popped up.

This time, it was the familiar husky avatar, and just like in his memory, messages came flooding in one after another the moment he responded.

Gou Yiyang: What are you doing?
Gou Yiyang: I heard you didn’t go home.
Gou Yiyang: Want to grab dinner? It’s still early.
Gou Yiyang: …Asleep?

Chen Mo: Who said I was asleep?

Gou Yiyang: Good, you’re awake.
Gou Yiyang: You remember those guys you saw at the internet café last time? Those idiots are still whining about how you didn’t get to treat them. But relax, it’s just a meetup—we’re not actually trying to scam you.

Chen Mo recalled that day—they hadn’t even gotten to eat the barbecue before he ended up at the hospital.

He hesitated for two seconds: Sure. Send me the address. I’ll let you guys scam me.

Gou Yiyang sent a thumbs-up emoji that nearly filled the entire screen.

Half an hour later, Chen Mo met up with Gou Yiyang’s group at a night-market stall two streets away from the internet café they’d visited before. There were quite a lot of people—around ten—including a few familiar faces and some girls.

“Over here! Young Master Mo!” someone called, waving at him from afar.

Chen Mo walked over and took the extra seat next to Gou Yiyang. He looked around and asked, “Is everyone here?”

“We’ve been waiting for you.” Gou Yiyang placed a bottle of beer in front of him.

Chen Mo pushed it aside. “I don’t drink. Order whatever you want—my treat.”

A small wave of cheers rose from the group.

The night wind carried a hint of heat, and the sizzling of barbecue skewers mixed with the clinking of beer bottles created the season’s unique, lively, smoky atmosphere.

Chen Mo didn’t talk much. He ate slowly off his bamboo skewer, taking a bite here and there, listening to the group’s idle chatter—gossip about their school and other schools. After listening for a bit, Chen Mo realized several girls weren’t from their school.

Among them were girls who didn’t know him. They had noticed him the moment he arrived, and eventually couldn’t hold back their curiosity—they quietly asked the people next to them who he was.

After all, among a bunch of guys who were drunk and cursing, Chen Mo looked low-key, but he was actually the most conspicuous presence.

He wore a plain white T-shirt and jeans.

Under the dim lighting, his skin looked pale, even his hair unusually neat tonight. Whether it was the prominent wrist bones resting on his knees or the faintly visible collarbone beneath his shirt, everything about him appeared clean and slender. He sat quietly, answering briefly when spoken to, otherwise chatting with Gou Yiyang beside him.

When the boy noticed a girl was asking about him, he couldn’t help but sigh dramatically and say with a grin, “Don’t even think about it. Our Young Master Mo isn’t some ordinary guy. Go scroll through the campus forum of No. 1 High—he’s blowing up the place right now.”

“What legend?” the girl asked with growing interest. “Is he as popular as Xi Siyan from your school?”

Her cheeks turned slightly pink as she said the name.

Chen Mo couldn’t help marveling—Xi Siyan was actually popular at other schools too?

The boy immediately replied, “That’s not the same type at all.”

“For example?”

“For example, I’m a terrible student,” Chen Mo said with a laugh. “I smoke, drink, get into fights. I have a long list of stupid mistakes behind me, and probably a lot more in the future. Don’t put me next to Xi Siyan—it’s embarrassing.”

Actually, Chen Mo was thinking: staring at Xi Siyan’s face too much, listening to him threaten to throw him off the fourth floor if he didn’t make the top ten… that alone was enough to shorten his lifespan.

Hearing this, Gou Yiyang suddenly asked, “Be honest—does Xi Siyan really mean it about getting you into the top ten?”

Chen Mo looked over. “How did you know about that?”

“Oh, so it’s true.” Gou Yiyang didn’t even answer the question and went on, “Everyone thought you were hopeless, but now it seems maybe not.”

Chen Mo: “May I ask who exactly is included in ‘everyone’?”

Gou Yiyang said casually, “Everyone in our class has been wanting to skip White Snake’s class for ages, but who would’ve thought you’d be the one to stand up for us in the end? We’re all waiting to see how it goes.”

Chen Mo: “…”

He hadn’t had a drink tonight, but his head throbbed anyway.

This topic had been circulating nonstop lately, and now everyone acted like he absolutely had to make the top ten.

They ate barbecue until 9:30 p.m.

The night market was still lively.

Chen Mo paid the bill, even though several people tried to split it with him. It was unclear whether they felt embarrassed making him pay alone, or whether they were just not done messing around.

Someone suggested continuing the fun by going to a karaoke bar.

Chen Mo had been keeping a regular sleep schedule lately, but not wanting to kill the mood, he went along.

At their age, entertainment basically meant internet cafés and karaoke—gaming and early dating. They’d probably feel like they were committing a crime just walking into a bar. The karaoke place they picked had decent décor, glittering and gaudy, and the soundproofing was good—you could only faintly hear noises from the other rooms.

They booked a big private room.

Chen Mo sat in the corner of the sofa, feeling drowsy.

The boys were wildly dancing, fighting over the microphone, shouting out high notes, while the girls were looking at their phones and whispering softly among themselves.

Just as Chen Mo was about to fall asleep, he felt the sofa cushion next to him dip slightly.

He glanced to the side and saw a girl’s face flushed red like an apple under the dim lights. Sensing where this was going, Chen Mo leaned back slightly.

Unfortunately, the girl didn’t notice. With her head lowered, she timidly asked, “Chen Mo? Can we add each other as friends?”

“Why?” Chen Mo heard himself ask.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t add her—he just didn’t want to add someone when the purpose was silently, ambiguously clear.

Sure enough, the girl peeked at him and bit her lip. “I just think you… seem like a really nice person.”

“Hah.” Chen Mo couldn’t help letting out a soft laugh.

He genuinely wanted to tell the girl in front of him that back in the day, when he frequented various entertainment venues and dealt with all those swollen-ego businessmen, he had casually wrapped an arm around a hostess’s waist and let a “princess” kneel beside him pouring drinks.

Call him a good person?

But now, he only gave an awkward, polite smile and said, “Sorry, I don’t add people casually.”

“I… I didn’t mean anything else.” The girl’s face grew even redder. She whispered, “Can’t we just be friends?”

Chen Mo felt a headache coming on.

He stood up, picked up a glass of orange liqueur from the table, and downed it in one go.

Setting the glass down, he glanced at her, smiled faintly, and sighed. “You’re quite cute, but I don’t like girls.”

“Huh? Ah?” The girl’s lips parted slightly. She stared at him with wide eyes, stunned, and stammered, “You… you mean…”

“Yes.” Chen Mo nodded. “I’m gay.”

Just as his glass clinked against the table, someone happened to switch songs.

As a result, Chen Mo’s words became the only sound in the entire private room—clear enough for everyone to hear.

As the intro of the next song started playing, someone dropped the microphone. The sharp “clang” perfectly captured the atmosphere in that moment.

Up on the second floor of the KTV—

Xi Jianxing was being forced drink after drink in a VIP room. He was so drunk he was on the verge of collapsing.

When he saw a tall figure push the door open, he immediately latched on. “That’s enough for today… Ugh, I have to go back… Him? No way. He’s my nephew. He’s still in high school. You guys better have some decency. I’m leaving now. Goodbye, everyone.”

He finally escaped the private room.

Xi Jianxing tugged at his tie and cursed, “Damn it, these old foxes are absolutely ruthless.”

Then he looked over at his nephew leaning against the wall, baring his teeth. “I asked you to come save me. If you were half an hour later, you’d be collecting your second uncle’s corpse right now!”

“I can pick a nice burial plot for you,” Xi Siyan replied, straightening from the wall and putting away his phone.

Xi Jianxing almost coughed up blood on the spot.

Currently, his dear nephew—heir of the Xi family—had been dragged to some banquet tonight. He wore a white shirt and trousers, his hair gelled neatly. He looked devastatingly handsome.

He just lacked a bit of humanity.

“Can we go?” Xi Siyan grabbed the nearly toppling uncle. “The driver’s waiting at the door.”

Xi Jianxing stared at him bitterly. “What if I say I’m not leaving?”

“Then you can crawl down.”

Xi Jianxing took two deep breaths and sneered, “You should really let your classmates see your real, rotten personality.”

Following behind at a leisurely pace, Xi Siyan said, “What real personality? The one who can ditch his own brother and sister-in-law, then generously come pick you up from a banquet even Grandfather would attend?”

“Bah.” There wasn’t the slightest respect or affection between this uncle and nephew. Xi Jianxing exposed him bluntly: “You hate these kinds of occasions the most. Haven’t you had enough of playing the role of ‘good son, good grandson’ since you were a kid?”

Hands in pockets, Xi Siyan said calmly, “If that’s what you think, I can’t help it.”

“Save your scumbag lines for your future wife. See if she won’t slap you straight!”

They bickered their way down the stairs, passing by the restroom.

Xi Jianxing immediately leaned against the wall, clutching his stomach, announcing dramatically that he was going to throw up.

The banquet host waited outside the restroom entrance.

He waited for ten minutes.

When Xi Jianxing finally came out, several passersby stared at him. One, already impatient, frowned and said, “I thought you fell into the toilet.”

“I was just… checking out the situation, you know?”

Without even being asked, Xi Jianxing started rambling, “I didn’t expect high schoolers these days to be this intense. There were two boys in there—one was puking, one was comforting him. I heard everything. The puking one apparently came out as gay after getting confessed to by a girl, and he also has someone he likes but can’t confess to. Poor kid got so emotional he drank himself sick. Even I felt sad.”

Xi Siyan: “Are we leaving or not?”

“Alright, alright, don’t rush me. And hey, this kid seems to go to your school.”

Just as Xi Jianxing turned to leave, he saw a high school boy—who had been standing outside the stall offering earnest advice—suddenly burst out of the restroom, face pale.

He had only taken one step aside when his nephew suddenly reached out and grabbed the boy.

“Gou Yiyang.”

“Huh?”

Gou Yiyang was still disoriented, but the moment he looked up and saw his class monitor, he nearly burst into tears.

Seeing his expression, Xi Siyan frowned. “What are you doing?”

Only then did Gou Yiyang snap back to reality. He pointed shakily toward the restroom. “It’s Chen Mo—Chen Mo’s dying. I need to go call for help!”

Inside the restroom, Chen Mo was bracing himself with one hand on the sink and pressing his stomach with the other.

His vision was starting to blur.

He hadn’t felt anything wrong when he drank that one glass. Probably because the barbecue he’d eaten earlier was too strong, and combined with the alcohol, the familiar wave of pain hit him less than three minutes later.

His stomach was empty from vomiting.

He wanted to tell Gou Yiyang to calm down, but Gou—who had no idea he’d one day be wielding a scalpel—was, at this moment, just an easily frightened high schooler. Seeing Chen Mo’s deathly pale face and cold sweat pouring down, he probably thought Chen Mo was going to drop dead right there.

It will pass soon.

Once the pain eases a bit, on the way back, he still needs to remember to stop by a pharmacy and stock up on common medicine.

As Chen Mo thought this, he turned around, leaning on the sink, preparing to squat down to let the pain settle.

He was halfway down when someone suddenly lifted him up by the waist.

Chen Mo’s nose bumped into a hard shoulder. His hand landed on a shirt sleeve—rolled to the elbow, made of unfamiliar material. He only had time to lift his head enough to see a sharp jawline before he heard a familiar voice above him.

“This makes the second time.”

“Hospital run—want me to carry you?”