After the Reborn Young Master Embraced a Life of Wellness – Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – Calm Amid Chaos: The Young Master Handles Family Drama

Chen Mo managed to get himself registered at the hospital’s emergency room. The doctor who examined him was overly meticulous, asking about every symptom in detail. It took more than half an hour before they finally hooked him up to an IV.

Four large bottles of fluid hung above him, and by the time they were all finished, the sky outside had begun to lighten.

Chen Mo had dozed off during the treatment, but the nurse woke him when it was time to remove the IV. As his eyes opened, they landed on the calendar hanging on the wall. For a brief moment, his heart seemed to stop.

The fever that had burned through his body for hours had receded like the tide, and the soreness in his limbs had eased.

As the pain faded, Chen Mo could feel the vitality of his young body returning, like a machine that had been freshly repaired.

It was mid-September.

The early morning breeze was cool, and sunlight began to spill across the rooftops of the city’s tall buildings. Clouds drifted apart, and the faint rustle of sanitation workers sweeping fallen leaves on the streets mixed with the honking of cars in the distance.

Everything seemed the same as it had been yesterday.

And yet, it was completely different.

After leaving the hospital, Chen Mo had a simple breakfast and hailed a taxi.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“Mingjing Bay,” Chen Mo replied.

“Oh, that’s more than ten kilometers away.” The driver started the meter and glanced back at him. Smiling, he added, “You’re coming out of the hospital at this hour—are you sick?”

“Just a cold,” Chen Mo said.

“The temperature difference between morning and evening has been pretty big lately,” the driver said with a knowing nod. “It’s easy to catch a cold. You’re still in school at your age, right? Didn’t your family come with you to the hospital?”

Chen Mo smiled faintly. “At my age, I don’t look for my parents when I’m sick.”

“That’s not right.” The driver reached up and tapped a family photo taped to the dashboard. His tone carried a touch of sourness, but it was mostly pride. “My daughter is about your age. Her grades are pretty good—she’s taking the college entrance exams next year. Her mom even quit her job to take care of her. She complains sometimes, but what can we do? I’ve got to be out here every day, making a living.”

Chen Mo glanced at the photo. The girl in it looked cheerful, her face full of youthful energy. “Your daughter is very lucky,” he said.

“What’s so lucky about it? We’re not well-off. She’ll have to rely on herself in the future.” The driver chuckled, then looked at Chen Mo in the rearview mirror. “But you—you must be doing pretty well. Living in a place like Mingjing Bay, your parents must be busy with work, huh? They probably worry about you a lot.”

Chen Mo chuckled softly. “Maybe.”

But the truth was, he didn’t need their concern.

The car drove smoothly all the way to the gated villa community of Mingjing Bay.

When Chen Mo got out of the taxi, he was stopped at the gate by security.

The guard in the booth gave him a once-over, his eyes scanning Chen Mo’s clothing as if trying to gauge its value. “Your information isn’t in the resident registry,” the guard said. “You’ll need to sign in.”

Chen Mo wasn’t surprised.

Mingjing Bay was a massive community, and ever since he had moved in, he had always entered and exited in a car.

The Yang couple were far too busy with their daily affairs to remember such a trivial matter. As for Yang Shule, who had been sulking ever since learning the truth about Chen Mo’s identity, she was far too preoccupied with her own feelings to worry about his.

After registering at the gate, Chen Mo entered the community and walked for another ten minutes before arriving at the Yang family’s three-story villa.

The scene in front of the house was chaotic, exactly as it had been in his previous life.

A crowd of people stood gathered at the door—members of the Yang family, kitchen staff, groundskeepers, servants, and the driver. All eyes were on the central figure of the commotion.

Yang Shule.

She stood there, about 1.75 meters tall, her naturally yellowish curly hair framing her youthful face. Her big eyes, now brimming with tears, and the freckles on her cheeks made her look even younger than she was.

“Give it to me!” she shouted, her neck flushed red with anger.

The housekeeper, Butler Xu, who was in his fifties, moved the suitcase further back, his expression helpless. “Xiao Le, stop making a scene. You’re still sick.”

A middle-aged man standing two meters away, his face stern, snapped, “Let him go! Let’s see how long he can keep this up.”

“Yang Qi’an, are you crazy?!” A well-maintained woman wearing a pearl necklace—Zhou Yaoqing—looked anxious as she grabbed her husband’s arm. “The doctor said his blood sugar is low. He’s never even washed a dish in his life. How is he supposed to survive if you let him leave?!”

Yang Shule’s eyes turned misty again at her father’s sarcasm. She cried out, “I’m not your biological child! I don’t have the face to stay here!”

A heavy silence fell over the crowd.

Zhou Yaoqing burst into tears. “You were so sick when you were little, always needing medicine. We raised you with so much love, and this is how you repay us?”

“Mom…” Yang Shule sobbed. “I heard everything. Chen Mo used me as a condition—he wouldn’t let you withdraw the lawsuit unless I left. Dad has to work overtime every day because of the company. I don’t want this! Everyone says I stole everything that should have been Chen Mo’s. Can’t I just give it back to him?”

“Alright, alright,” Yang Qi’an said, pressing a hand to his son’s shoulder. “Listen to me.”

“But Chen Mo is your biological son,” Yang Shule said, shaking her head. “If he can’t tolerate me, you’ll always be fighting.”

Yang Qi’an sighed. “He was just angry. We’ll explain it to him.”

“Yes,” Zhou Yaoqing added. “Lele, in our hearts, you’re both our children. You’re the same to us.”

“It’s different,” Yang Shule murmured, stepping back. “I know it’s different.”

As she backed away, Yang Zhi stepped forward and caught her by the shoulders.

Yang Zhi, already a grown man who had entered the business world, was taller than his father. He frowned at Yang Shule, his tone firm. “Look at yourself. What are you doing?”

“What do you know?!” Yang Shule shouted, punching her brother’s arm. Her eyes were red again as she cried, “This didn’t happen to you, so of course it’s easy for you to say that!”

What a touching family farce.

A dignified father, a soft-spoken mother, a steady and reliable older brother, and a younger sibling who, despite all their noise, was full of concern for the family.

Anyone who saw this scene would think: If Chen Mo didn’t exist, what a harmonious, happy family this would be.

But the world wasn’t built on “ifs.”

“Chen Mo’s back,” someone suddenly said.

The crowd turned to look.

Chen Mo stepped forward, his figure calm and unhurried.

Yang Zhi, standing at the front, instinctively pulled Yang Shule behind him. Perhaps he wasn’t even aware of the protective gesture, but it betrayed the tilt of the scales in his heart. His familiar, pampered sibling was no match for someone like Chen Mo, who was sharp-edged and unpredictable.

But Chen Mo ignored them all.

“Wait!” Yang Zhi called out, frowning. “Didn’t you see your parents standing here? Didn’t you think to say hello? And why didn’t you answer my messages or calls last night? What were you trying to do?”

Chen Mo stopped and raised an eyebrow.

He turned back, glanced at Yang Zhi, then nodded to Yang Qi’an and Zhou Yaoqing. “Dad. Mom.”

The Yang couple froze, stunned.

It was the first time Chen Mo had called them that since returning to the family.

But the moment wasn’t joyful or emotional.

It was awkward, filled with embarrassment and silence.

The servants murmured among themselves.

“Now he knows how to call them mom and dad.”
“He must’ve come back just to rub salt in the wound.”
“Will Xiaole really leave? Her luggage is already packed.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Yang won’t let her go.”
“The eldest son dotes on Xiaole. He’d never let her be bullied.”

Chen Mo, who had been standing there looking every bit the troublemaker, turned to Yang Zhi and said coolly, “Now that I’ve said hello, is there anything else?”

“Xiao Mo.” Zhou Yaoqing suddenly stepped forward, grabbing his arm.

Her expression softened as she looked at him. Born into a wealthy family, Zhou Yaoqing had never experienced hardship in her life. When she first learned the truth about Chen Mo’s identity, it had been like a thunderclap in her world.

The first time she saw him in Yuhuai Village, the image had been deeply etched in her memory.

Chen Mo had been in the middle of a fight with his adoptive father. His eyes were fierce, almost murderous.

He spoke with a thick regional accent.
His hands, rough and covered in dry calluses, gripped a ceramic lever to fetch water.

Is this really my son?

Zhou Yaoqing had asked herself this question countless times.

But the truth had come hand-in-hand with a crisis for the Yang family company. At the same time, her decades-long marriage to Yang Qi’an was once again on the verge of collapse.

And then there was Yang Shule, the youngest son who had been raised with the utmost care. Compared to Chen Mo, he was thoughtful, sensitive, and spoiled in a way that softened the heart.

He might argue with his parents one second, but the next second, he would be playfully clinging to them, asking for something. He would make handmade gifts on Mother’s Day to make her smile. He bullied his eldest brother, but when something went wrong, he’d run to him for help without hesitation.

How could they let Shule leave home and live on his own?

Zhou Yaoqing looked at Chen Mo with a mix of guilt and hesitation. “Your father and I know you’re upset. Withdrawing the lawsuit is only temporary. The risks it brought to the company were unpredictable. You’re still young, so maybe you don’t fully understand what I’m saying—”

“I understand.” Chen Mo interrupted her smoothly. His tone was calm. “Running a company isn’t easy. You’re stuck in the middle, trying to balance everything. If you had to withdraw the lawsuit, then so be it. After all, Li Yunru did raise me for seventeen years. I haven’t forgotten that.”

“You really think so?” Zhou Yaoqing asked, her voice tinged with hope.

“Of course.”

Seeing her relieved expression, Chen Mo’s face remained sincere.

But Zhou Yaoqing hesitated for a moment, then carefully asked, “Then… can your brother still live with us?”

“Sure,” Chen Mo said with a nod. “As long as it makes you happy.”

It was as if the person who had been so resolute and uncompromising just two days ago was someone else entirely.

Was he being sarcastic?

Everyone around them had the same question in their minds.

But Chen Mo turned to Zhou Yaoqing and asked, “Anything else you’d like to ask, Mom?”

The word “Mom” caught her off guard.

For a moment, she was stunned.

Today, Chen Mo felt different—not just in his demeanor but also in his actions. He was polite, appropriate, and even respectful. But for some reason, it left her with an inexplicable sense of unease, as if something was missing.

“No… it’s nothing,” Zhou Yaoqing finally said, shaking her head.

Just as Chen Mo turned to leave, Yang Shule, who had been standing behind Yang Zhi, suddenly stepped forward.

“Chen Mo, I’ll move out! I don’t need your charity!”

The servants nearby tensed, ready to intervene if things escalated. Everyone had heard the rumors about Chen Mo’s history of fighting at his rural high school. But instead of losing his temper, Chen Mo paused and seemed to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

Then he turned around and walked toward Yang Shule.

“Chen Mo!” Yang Zhi stretched out his arm to block him.

Chen Mo glanced at the arm across his chest but didn’t push it aside. Instead, he calmly beckoned to Yang Shule. “Come here.”

“Xiao Mo,” Zhou Yaoqing said nervously, her voice trembling.

“Stop messing around,” Yang Qi’an added. “Let’s talk this out.”

Yang Shule hesitated, but the murmurs of encouragement from those around him seemed to give him courage. He pushed Yang Zhi’s arm aside and stepped forward.

“I don’t owe you anything, Chen Mo!” Yang Shule said, his voice trembling with defiance. “If you try anything today—”

The rest of his words caught in his throat.

Chen Mo had simply reached out to adjust his collar.

Standing half a head taller than Yang Shule, Chen Mo draped an arm over his younger brother’s shoulders in an almost casual gesture. His relaxed posture contrasted sharply with the tension in the air.

“What are you doing?” Yang Shule demanded, his pupils trembling as he frowned.

Chen Mo’s grip seemed light, but it was firm enough to keep Yang Shule from pulling away. His voice was calm, almost amused. “How is this charity?”

Yang Shule froze.

“We’re family,” Chen Mo continued, his tone light but deliberate. “There’s no need to draw lines between us, right? You can stay in this house if you want. You were born after me, so that makes you my little brother. I might be narrow-minded as an older brother, but don’t take it personally.”

Yang Shule, pale and visibly shaken, pushed Chen Mo away and stumbled back.

Chen Mo shrugged, looking around at the gathered crowd. “Was that apology insincere?”

The others were too stunned to respond.

Chen Mo sighed dramatically, his voice tinged with mock exasperation. “If everyone’s satisfied, can we stop calling me out for this nonsense? I really just want to go back and sleep. I stayed up all night, and I’m not in the mood to deal with this. Let’s just bear with each other, okay?”

Without waiting for a response, Chen Mo turned and walked toward the house.

Once inside, he went upstairs, took a long shower, and collapsed onto his bed.

The mattress was soft, the air conditioning set to the perfect temperature, and the faint hum of the humidifier filled the room. It was the most comfortable sleep he’d had in years.

He slept deeply and peacefully until noon.

A knock at the door woke him.

“Master Mo, it’s time for lunch,” a servant called softly.

Chen Mo sat up, rubbing his eyes as he got out of bed. He opened the door while tying the belt of his bathrobe. “Don’t call me that,” he said with a yawn. “It sounds weird.”

The maid nodded quietly, but she couldn’t help but think how much he looked like the young master of a wealthy family at that moment.

Wearing slippers, his bathrobe slightly open, and his damp hair tousled from sleep, Chen Mo carried himself with an effortless air of authority. He looked more like the true owner of the villa than anyone else.

At the dining table, Chen Mo sat down casually.

“You’re still in your bathrobe in the middle of the day?”

Chen Mo looked up to see Yang Zhi approaching, dressed in formal attire, clearly ready to head out after lunch.

“If I didn’t know better,” Chen Mo said with a smirk, “I’d think you were my dad.”

Yang Zhi sat down across from him, studying him with a frown. “You wouldn’t want Dad to take care of you personally.”

Chen Mo chuckled, cutting into his food with a knife and fork. “Don’t use him to scare me. Besides, I’m pretty sure he’s feeling sorry for me right now.”

As if on cue, Chen Mo’s phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen and smiled faintly. “See? Compensation arrives so promptly.”

Yang Zhi ignored his comment and said, “Tomorrow is Sunday. Shu Le invited some classmates over to the house.”

Chen Mo raised an eyebrow as he speared a piece of broccoli. “Why are you telling me this?”

Yang Zhi hesitated, then noticed a faint bruise on the back of Chen Mo’s hand.

“What did you do last night?” he asked, his voice sharp.

Chen Mo’s smile turned mocking. “What did I do? I cultivated my character. Otherwise, how do you think this table can still seat two people?”

The servant serving the food froze, sensing the tension.

But deep down, they couldn’t help but feel that something fundamental in this family was about to change.