After the Reborn Young Master Embraced a Life of Wellness – Chapter 48

Chen Mo responded to Lao Gou’s persistence with six dots.

Lao Gou wasn’t giving up. “Just tell me straight up, is it you?”

Chen Mo: “It doesn’t matter whether it’s true or not. This speculation is all nonsense.”

Lao Gou immediately replied: “Got it. No need to say anything—I knew it was you!”

Chen Mo saw no point in arguing further.

Lao Gou continued his rapid-fire messages:

“As your brother, I’m really worried about you. You were so down last night, and Brother Yan was comforting you, right? I think some people just have too much time on their hands, taking random pictures and spreading rumors.”

Lao Gou’s logic sounded very reasonable.

Chen Mo, however, was too embarrassed to admit the truth—that they had actually kissed last night. He was afraid the revelation would scare Lao Gou to death.

Lao Gou had always been at the forefront of gossip, but he was also a very straightforward guy.

If Chen Mo told him straight up that Xi Siyan didn’t like men, Lao Gou would probably believe it even more. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been so eager to push them together back in Bingyuan Town.

Chen Mo replied: “It’s nothing. Just don’t spread nonsense in the group.” Then, as an extra precaution, he added: “And no posting on anonymous accounts either.”

“Of course not,” Lao Gou replied, rolling his eyes through the screen. “If you and the squad leader really had something going on, I’d be sitting on the sidelines watching the drama unfold. But there’s nothing, right? What am I supposed to do? Go around telling everyone, ‘I know the person in that photo! He’s my brother! And he’s definitely a guy!’ That’d just be funny. And I’d be dead meat if I spread rumors that the squad leader is gay.”

Chen Mo didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.

Should he praise Lao Gou for his sharp instincts or criticize him for his obliviousness?

Letting it go, Chen Mo ended their conversation and grabbed his bank card, room card, wallet, and other essentials. Standing up, he turned to Xi Siyan. “Are you busy now? If not, let Uncle Lin drive me there.”

“Let’s go.” Xi Siyan glanced at him, not asking anything else.

Heading to the Yang Family Villa

It was around four in the afternoon.

The sun had been blazing all day, with surface temperatures soaring past 40°C. Though the sun was now setting, the heat still lingered, keeping most pedestrians indoors.

Inside the car, however, the air conditioning was perfect—cool, but not freezing.

As usual, Uncle Lin drove in silence.

Chen Mo glanced at the person beside him. Legs crossed, a laptop balanced on his lap, Xi Siyan was browsing the official website of a prestigious foreign university.

Chen Mo took a quick look and asked, “Decided on a school?”

“Not yet.” Without looking up, Xi Siyan raised an eyebrow and explained, “My uncle sent me this. He’s abroad right now. He said if needed, he’d prepare a recommendation letter for me in advance.”

Chen Mo nodded. “That’s a great opportunity.”

Only then did Xi Siyan look at him. “You think so?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you ever thought about studying abroad?”

“Me?” Chen Mo was momentarily stunned, then chuckled. “I don’t have such plans.”

From the front, Uncle Lin coughed lightly before adding, “Master Mo, studying abroad isn’t a bad option. It’s really popular in China now. Even my own kids—if their grades weren’t so bad—I’d have sent them overseas long ago. What a pity.”

Chen Mo could tell Uncle Lin genuinely regretted it.

Smiling, he said, “Uncle Lin, you don’t need to call me that. Just ‘Chen Mo’ is fine from now on.”

Uncle Lin hesitated for a moment, glancing at Xi Siyan through the rearview mirror. Seeing no reaction from him, he nodded.

Not long after, the car pulled up in front of the Yang family’s villa.

Even from a distance, Chen Mo could see a cluster of reporters with cameras stationed outside the gate.

Xi Siyan scanned the scene. “Uncle Lin, call someone to clear them out.”

“Understood.” Uncle Lin made a few quick phone calls.

Within ten minutes, every last reporter had vacated the premises.

“Are you okay?” Xi Siyan asked.

Chen Mo took a deep breath, staring at the familiar house.

“Yeah. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.”

A Different Kind of Homecoming

In his previous life, this moment had come years later.

By then, the accumulated grudges had reached a boiling point. Every emotion had been drained, and what remained was pure, bitter hatred.

He and the Yang family loathed each other—speculating, plotting, and countering with the most vicious of intentions.

Even more than he had despised Chen Jianli and Li Yunru.

That final break had been ugly.

It was no longer about family or justice. It was a war over shares, money, and power—where holding the upper hand meant holding the other’s fate.

Even now, when Chen Mo thought back to that day, he felt a deep sense of self-loathing.

But this time, things were different.

This time, Chen Mo returned in broad daylight, with a calm and steady heart.

He was only seventeen, having lived in the Yang household for barely a year.

But one year was enough.

He had witnessed the murky waters of this family with his own eyes.

He had fulfilled the task of his past self—finally seeing the truth for what it was.

And it was time to let go.

“Did you see clearly this time?” Chen Mo asked his past self.

“This is the truth you spent your life chasing. Was it really worth it?”

Behind him, Uncle Lin hesitated before asking, “Should we really let him go in alone? The Yang family must be in chaos right now.”

“Chaos has its benefits,” Xi Siyan replied calmly, retracting his gaze. “The Yang family has been stable for too long. They’ve forgotten their roots.”

Uncle Lin sighed. “I feel bad for Chen Mo. He’s outstanding in every way—just unlucky.”

Pausing, he turned to Xi Siyan. “Ayan, are you going to tell him that the old man is insisting you go abroad?”

“Nothing’s set in stone. No need to say anything.”

Uncle Lin sighed again. “If only there were more children in the younger generation of the Xi family—then not everything would fall on your shoulders. It’s a pity your parents have no intention of expanding the family, and your second uncle… He’s even more unreliable. He said he’s going abroad to manage business for the old man, but he’s never been involved in this industry before. He’s bound to suffer losses.”

Xi Siyan closed his laptop and looked out the window again.

Uncle Lin said nothing more.

He had spent most of his life in the Xi family—having once been the old master’s driver. To him, Ayan was still just a child.

But two years ago, when the old man assigned him to watch over Xi Siyan, Uncle Lin had understood: The next heir to the Xi family would be no one else.

Only now, at this very moment—

For the first time, Uncle Lin truly felt that the child he had once known had grown up.

Perhaps, in time, he would even challenge the old master’s decisions.

But what was going through his mind at this moment…

Was no longer something anyone could guess.

At the same time, inside the Yang family villa, an oppressive atmosphere loomed over the household.

Because reporters had been swarming outside since early morning, the Yang family had scrambled to conduct emergency PR, issuing statements and explanations to the media. For a brief moment, things seemed to be moving in a positive direction—

Until Li Yunru’s interview aired that afternoon.

Everything collapsed in an instant.

A House in Chaos

In the Yang family’s villa, the living room was a complete mess.

Yang Shule had flown into a hysterical rage, smashing cups, plates, and bowls—the shattered remains littering the floor.

But no matter how much he yelled, the TV screen, which took up half the wall, continued playing the same loop.

A haggard woman’s voice echoed over and over:

“It was a rainy day. I accidentally fell on my way to work and was sent to the hospital… I took the child and escaped from the hospital. We hid for several days for fear of being discovered. The child’s face was purple for a long time. I thought he wouldn’t survive…”

“Turn it off! Turn it off! CAN YOU JUST TURN IT OFF?!”

Yang Shule screamed at the housekeeper, his voice filled with desperation.

But this time—no one listened.

By the window, Yang Qi’an was on the phone, his voice drained of energy:

“Yes, we adults made a mistake… The prosecution has begun, and an official notice will be issued. If we proceed with the lawsuit, it won’t just be extortion—we’re adding child abuse charges as well…”

Normally, if Yang Shule was upset, Zhou Yaoqing would have stepped in to comfort him.

But right now, she sat frozen on the couch, staring at the screen, her face pale.

Li Yunru’s confession had completely shattered her self-deception.

She remembered that day seventeen years ago—the excruciating pain of childbirth.

She had been waiting for her husband to arrive, but when she woke up, the first person she saw was her eldest son holding her hand, saying excitedly: “Mom, it’s a little brother!”

Then, she heard that her newborn baby was sick, and she had wept uncontrollably.

Years passed, and she had devoted all her energy to raising the child she believed to be her son. She had loved him deeply, but also felt guilty—because she thought it was her fault that he was weak and sickly.

She had poured all her emotions—her unfulfilled love for her husband—into that child.

So when she first learned that Yang Shule wasn’t actually her son, she had instinctively refused to believe it.

Even after accepting the truth, she had avoided Chen Mo, brushing him off and pretending nothing was wrong—because she couldn’t see him as her child.

Now, all of her self-delusions had come crashing down.

Especially after hearing Li Yunru admit she had stolen a premature newborn and run away with him.

For the first time, Zhou Yaoqing thought of Chen Mo’s reality:

His bad stomach, his crippled leg, the years he spent away from school… all the scars from a childhood she had never been part of.

She looked up suddenly and turned to her eldest son, Yang Zhi.

“Where’s Chen Mo? You haven’t found him yet?”

Yang Zhi’s face was dark with frustration.

A recent report had stirred an old memory—back when his mother was still pregnant.

At the time, his parents had a terrible relationship, and he had desperately wanted a younger sibling—someone with the same bloodline to keep him company.

He had looked forward to his brother’s birth—without ulterior motives, without any schemes.

But now—he couldn’t even find him.

“Not yet,” Yang Zhi admitted.

Across the room, Su Qianran—who had been trapped in the villa all day because of the reporters—laughed coldly.

“If I were Chen Mo,” she said, stretching her legs on the couch, “I would never come back.”

Yang Zhi’s expression stiffened.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he muttered, “Don’t stir things up.”

Su Qianran sneered.

She didn’t bother telling him that her brother—Chen Mo—probably didn’t care about any of this.

Yang Shule’s Desperation

After throwing his tantrum, Yang Shule finally realized that the family’s attitude had shifted.

Panic set in.

He turned to his parents and brother, his red, swollen eyes filled with desperation.

“Mom, Dad, Big Brother,” Yang Shule whispered, approaching them hesitantly.

He gripped Zhou Yaoqing’s sleeve, his voice trembling.

“I’m sorry. I know I messed up this time. I’ll apologize to Chen Mo—I shouldn’t have contacted Chen Jianli. I was just jealous that he was doing better than me in school, and I ended up causing trouble for our family. I…”

Su Qianran rolled her eyes.

Zhou Yaoqing didn’t respond.

Yang Qi’an returned from his phone call, looking completely drained.

Yang Shule’s stomach clenched in fear.

“Dad…” he called out nervously.

Yang Qi’an stared at him coldly and said:

“Don’t worry. The Yang family won’t abandon you, especially in a crisis like this. You are still our son.”

But then—his voice turned sharp and unwavering:

“However, you must never compete with Chen Mo for anything in the future. The Yang family will do everything in its power to compensate him. And…”

Just then, the housekeeper at the door suddenly exclaimed in shock:

“Master Mo?!”

The man raised his voice, trembling.

“Master Mo is back!”

Everyone in the room stood up.

Their eyes snapped to the entrance—where a figure walked in slowly, stepping over the shattered debris on the floor.

Chen Mo had returned.

Dressed simply, he looked just as he did when he first entered this house.

Yet—he was completely different.

He glanced around, then said casually, “Ah, everyone’s here.”

“Xiao Mo!”

“Where have you been these past two days?”

“Come, sit down—”

“No need,” Chen Mo cut in.

Su Qianran smirked at him from the sofa and winked.

Chen Mo pulled out a bank card from his pocket.

He placed it on the coffee table with an unhurried yet resolute motion.

“This card contains exactly 158,325 yuan.”

“Fifty thousand is my pocket money for the year. One hundred thousand covers all my expenses since the day I stepped into this house—including food, clothing, housing, and transportation. I couldn’t calculate precisely, so I rounded it up.”

“The remaining 8,325 yuan is the cost of the gifts you brought me when you went to Yuhuai Village. I checked the invoices—not a cent more, not a cent less. It’s all here.”

The room fell completely silent.

Yang Zhi’s expression tightened—as if he had a bad premonition.

“Chen Mo, what does this mean?” he asked.

Chen Mo’s voice was calm but piercing:

“It means I, Chen Mo, am now even with the Yang family.”

Yang Qi’an’s face darkened with anger. “You are our son!”

Chen Mo let out a low chuckle—his shoulders trembling slightly from laughter.

Then—his expression turned ice-cold.

“Dad,” he said, voice laced with mockery.

“I don’t remember my last name being Yang.“