Two days later, it was Su Qianran’s wedding banquet.
This wasn’t just a simple marriage — it was a grand, highly publicized event.
Not just a matter between two people, but a strategic alliance between the powerful families behind them.
It wasn’t only close family and friends who received invitations — anyone with even the slightest connection to high society had a spot.
The outside world had already begun stirring up speculation.
As people said, a lean camel is still bigger than a horse.
The Yang family’s foundation had been built up over several generations.
And though the family had faced trouble in recent years, now that Yang Zhi was in charge, it seemed to be regaining momentum.
Su Qianran rarely brought up Yang Zhi in front of Chen Mo, but that didn’t mean Chen Mo was unaware of the deep problems left over from when Yang Qi’an had been in power.
He could easily imagine the weight Yang Zhi had been carrying these past years.
Even so — despite the pressure — Yang Zhi had never forced Su Qianran to register their marriage in advance.
Just for that, Chen Mo had to admit, Yang Zhi was at least a decent man.
That morning, Chen Mo left early.
He first went to pick up the old man.
“It’s rare to see you dressed so properly.”
The old man chuckled the moment they met.
Chen Mo looked down at his neatly pressed shirt, vest, suit jacket — even the perfectly aligned cufflinks.
He looked far too formal, and for a second he was speechless, realizing he’d probably overcorrected.
After a brief pause, he stepped forward, took over pushing the old man’s wheelchair from the attendant, and said,
“It’s a wedding, after all. I’m attending as part of Sister Qianran’s family, and after years of working together — it should be more formal.”
The old man’s health hadn’t been good for a while.
But today, dressed in a red-and-black Zhongshan suit, he looked lively and spirited.
He gently patted the back of Chen Mo’s hand resting on the armrest and said,
“Five years ago, at your request, we blocked all the news and rumors about your connection to the Yang family. In these years, you’ve cut ties with your parents completely. I’ve heard they’ve genuinely regretted it. As for that kid… after going abroad, he didn’t want to come back, and your parents have given up on him too.”
“Trying to convince me to reconcile?”
Chen Mo pushed the wheelchair out.
The old man shook his head.
“At my age, I’m not long for this world. And it’s not my place to meddle in the affairs of the next generation anymore. I just hope you’ll truly let go of these things, live a good life, and don’t let yourself be tied down by the past.”
Chen Mo smiled.
“Grandpa, I’m living a good life.”
“Really?”
The old man turned to look at him, frowning.
“You’re already at the age to start dating. Yang Zhi is getting married — but why haven’t I seen you bring anyone home?”
Ah, so it’s about that.
Chen Mo felt a slight headache coming on and quickly changed the subject.
“I’ve been too busy with work lately, haven’t had the time.”
But the old man wasn’t about to let him off that easy.
He snorted.
“You’re still hung up on that Xi family kid, aren’t you?”
He didn’t ask — it was a firm, declarative statement.
“No.”
Chen Mo’s reply was just as firm.
“Better that way.”
The old man sighed.
“Whatever happened between you two — it was all just foolishness of youth. I remember back then, the Xi family was in a critical period. I used to worry you’d be the one to suffer the most in the end. Since you broke up, let it be. Move forward, live well. I’m not old-fashioned — I’m not saying you have to marry a woman, but at least find someone to spend your life with. Don’t end up alone, worse off than an old man like me, living every day buried in your data and research.”
In truth, the old man rarely brought up these topics with Chen Mo.
Ever since Chen Mo and Xi Siyan had parted ways five years ago, he hadn’t mentioned him even once.
Perhaps it was the upcoming wedding, the talk of settling down and family, that made him bring this up again now.
Chen Mo kept his smile, his tone light.
“Grandpa, with everything you’ve left me, I could live comfortably for two or three lifetimes. Why would I complain?”
“Is that what I’m telling you?”
The old man sighed, a little disappointed.
Then, after a moment’s silence, he added,
“I know you haven’t touched a single cent of what I left you. I also know the Yang family’s come asking you for things they don’t deserve. When I’m gone one day — if you can, keep it. If not, donate it all. I’ve seen things clearly these past years. Yang Zhi might be able to barely keep that family afloat. As for you — you chose the right path, the one that suits you best. Whatever hardships you’ve suffered, they’re all in the past now. Living well in the future — that’s more important than anything.”
Chen Mo gripped the wheelchair’s armrest a little tighter.
He remembered — the old man had said something similar in his past life, before he passed away.
“Live well.”
It sounded so simple, but in his past life, Chen Mo hadn’t truly understood those words until the very end.
He reached out, holding the old man’s frail, thin hand, and said softly,
“Grandpa, I understand.”
“Good. That’s good.”
The old man’s slightly relieved murmur was carried away by the wind.
From where Chen Mo stood behind him, he could clearly feel how time was merciless.
He was deeply thankful that, over the past few years, he’d made a point to visit the old man every weekend — to quietly talk and keep him company.
After settling the old man in a private lounge on the hotel’s second floor, Chen Mo handed him over to a caregiver before heading downstairs to find Lao K and the others.
Some of Xinrui’s senior staff had already arrived.
For a company like Xinrui, which valued capability over connections, even now that it had grown quite large, many of its managers were people who’d worked their way up from the bottom.
They were seated at their own table — somewhere in the middle.
Su Qianran had arranged for Chen Mo’s name to be on their seating list too.
When Chen Mo arrived, the table was lively.
“I always knew President Su came from money, but I didn’t realize it was this level. I heard this wedding cost at least eight figures!”
“I think her husband’s family is even richer. The Yang family’s been wealthy for generations.”
“It’s my first time attending a wedding like this… I feel like a country bumpkin in the city… Hey, Mr. Chen — where’d you disappear to this morning? I called and you didn’t even answer.”
Chen Mo pulled out a chair between Lao K and the sales manager, and sat down.
“Nowhere special — just went out to buy some clothes. My usual ones are too casual.”
Everyone turned to look at him.
“So handsome, Brother Mo!”
“Mr. Chen, you could be one of the groomsmen in that outfit!”
“Seriously — you’re usually so laid-back. When you’re out of the lab, you still look like a college student. Although technically, you haven’t graduated from Q University yet, ha!”
“Last time we went to that meeting with a bunch of other companies, I pointed at Brother Mo and told them this was Mr. Chen. No one believed me!”
Laughter rippled around the table.
Chen Mo took the teasing in stride.
At an event like this, he was just an ordinary guest sitting quietly in a corner — watching.
The wedding hadn’t officially begun yet.
At the entrance of the hall, Su Qianran and Yang Zhi were standing together as the bride and groom, welcoming guests.
Yang Qi’an, Zhou Yaoqing, and Su Qianran’s parents were all there too.
The scene was full of warmth and harmony.
But just as everything seemed picture-perfect, a jarring voice suddenly cut in—
“Dad, Mom — why didn’t anyone tell me about something as important as my big brother’s wedding?”
The voice was loud — deliberately so, and jarring.
And it wasn’t just one person — a group of seven or eight men had arrived together.
They were all in business suits, clearly foreigners, giving off a grand, imposing air.
At the front of the group stood none other than Yang Shule, the very same Yang Shule who had disappeared from public view for years.
Yang Shule looked much more mature now.
He still had that privileged, pampered look about him, but the sunshine and bright smile he used to wear were long gone — replaced by a half-smile that made him unreadable.
People at Chen Mo’s table couldn’t help but whisper among themselves.
“Who’s that?”
“And why are there a bunch of foreigners with him? He called the groom’s parents ‘Mom and Dad’… does the Yang family have another son?”
Their questions were soon answered by the murmurs coming from the next table.
“That’s the Yang family’s youngest son. I heard he went abroad years ago.”
“Looks like he’s done pretty well for himself.”
“But why wouldn’t they tell the younger son about the wedding?”
“You don’t know? The Yang family’s situation is complicated. I heard the youngest son was… switched at birth or something? There was a huge scandal about it back in the day.”
“So is this guy the real one, or the fake one?”
“I’m not sure. I think he’s the fake one. The biological one cut ties with the Yang family, apparently. There aren’t even any pictures of him online anymore.”
In the distance, the Yang couple’s expressions were extremely awkward.
They obviously couldn’t explain to everyone how they’d sent Yang Shule abroad — partly because his reputation in China had been ruined after failing the college entrance exams, and partly because, after the Xi family sent their heir overseas, Yang Qi’an thought it would be a smart move to send Yang Shule to the same place, hoping he’d turn out alright.
At first, everything was calm.
Until Yang Shule kept asking for money.
There was always some excuse — sky-high living costs, refusing to stay in school dorms, asking the family to buy him a house overseas.
Whenever his demands weren’t met, he would curse and throw tantrums.
Later, Yang Zhi had someone investigate, only to find that Yang Shule had fallen into a completely chaotic lifestyle abroad.
Not only was his personal life a mess, he mixed with all kinds of shady people and had developed a gambling addiction.
Yang Zhi arranged for people to monitor him, to force him into quitting.
At the time, Yang Shule had laughed and said,
“This is just who I am, Brother. Don’t forget — I’ve got a gambler’s blood in me!”
After years of mutual torment, Yang Shule abruptly cut off contact, declaring that he’d never return to China and daring the family to come find him.
Now here he was, suddenly appearing like this — no one was more shocked than the Yang family.
The couple scrambled to smooth things over, awkwardly explaining to the surrounding guests,
“You’re so far away, and we thought it wasn’t necessary for you to make the trip. Why didn’t you tell us you were coming back?”
Chen Mo sat calmly at his table, watching the drama unfold.
Su Qianran sent him a message right then.
Su Qianran: I want to vomit.
Chen Mo: Wasn’t this your choice?
Su Qianran: Out of sight, out of mind — I don’t even live with that family. Who would’ve thought some ghost from a dead-end corner would crawl back. If Yang Zhi dares to get involved in this shit again, he’s done for.
Chen Mo glanced over at Yang Zhi, standing with a stiff expression next to Yang Shule.
He smiled and texted back:
Chen Mo: From the looks of it, your training worked.
Just as he put his phone away, he noticed Yang Zhi’s gaze drifting toward him.
Chen Mo wasn’t sure what that look meant — was it… worried?
Worried he’d jump out now, announce that Yang Shule wasn’t his biological son, and ruin the wedding?
Chen Mo shot him a cold look, as if to say: Relax, what are you staring at me for? You’re the one with issues.
Other than Yang Shule’s sudden appearance and his foreign entourage, the rest of the wedding proceeded as planned.
People quickly lost interest in the disruption.
With so many colleagues at the table, conversation flowed easily.
Chen Mo occasionally chimed in and scrolled through his messages, but after a while, he noticed the atmosphere shift slightly — an oppressive presence suddenly behind him.
He instinctively turned his head — and was met with a view of someone’s perfectly tailored suit, just at the waist.
The material alone made it clear how expensive it was.
Everyone at the table was briefly stunned.
“President Xi?”
“When did President Xi get here?”
…
No one dared to offer him a seat — after all, someone like him should be sitting near the main table.
Xi Siyan looked down at Chen Mo’s dark, slightly messy hair, then straightened and smiled.
“Just came over to have a word with your CEO Chen.”
Chen Mo had wanted to ignore him, but in the end, he turned back helplessly.
“What is it, President Xi?”
As the most prominent figure of the younger generation from the Xi family — and someone who was already the center of attention at this wedding — Xi Siyan casually held onto the back of Chen Mo’s chair, leaned down, and quietly said:
“Don’t leave yet. I’ll take you to meet someone later.”
Then, as he straightened and was about to walk away, he added,
“You look great today. Nice outfit too.”
Everyone at the table clearly heard that last part.
“Seems like President Xi has the same good taste as the rest of us.”
“Brother Mo is definitely standing out today.”
…
Xi Siyan took a few steps away — just as his phone buzzed.
The pinned chat at the top of his messages — the one labeled “Silence is not golden, it’s your grandpa” — finally lit up after a long silence.
Silence is not golden, it’s your grandpa: middlefinger.jpg
XSY: Mr. Chen, please watch your manners.
Thank you for translating!