When Chen Mo received Su Qianran’s message, he was sitting on the sofa, sipping hot water.
On the stove in the kitchen, a clay pot bubbled gently. The entire house was filled with a rich, savory aroma—pigeon soup simmered with angelica and codonopsis, mingled with a faint hint of traditional Chinese medicine.
This apartment had been rented during one of the busiest periods of Chen Mo’s career.
Partly for convenience, partly for the excellent lighting.
He had held meetings in this living room, pulled all-nighters to write academic reports, and even crashed on the sofa when he was too tired to make it back to the bedroom.
But today marked the first time he truly experienced the peaceful simplicity of living in his own home.
It made him so relaxed that he could fall asleep in minutes.
So when Su Qianran asked her question—
Chen Mo typed back:
“Yes, that’s right. We’re back together.”
Su Qianran replied instantly:
“Wait—so you two really slept together?! Or are you living together?”
Chen Mo:
“How did you jump to that conclusion?”
Su Qianran:
“You don’t get it. It’s torture to lie next to a 1.8-meter-tall guy tossing and turning for two hours straight without closing his eyes. I asked him, and he said he suspects Xi is taking advantage of someone in a vulnerable state.”
Chen Mo:
“…Is he mentally unwell?”
Chen Mo’s suspicion wasn’t without reason.
He truly didn’t understand what went on in Yang Zhi’s brain. How could he think Chen Mo would strike some shady deal with Xi Siyan for the sake of the Yang Group? Or that Xi Siyan would take advantage of the situation to pressure him into some unequal treaty?
Su Qianran:
“I get where he’s coming from. When Xi Siyan went abroad back then, part of the reason was the Xi family’s interference. It wasn’t the main cause, but the Yang family’s lack of power was a factor. Yang Zhi told me personally that the day you officially took over the Xinrui R&D Center, his grandfather told him: ‘The Xi family doesn’t let go of people or things they’ve set their sights on easily. If one day, you’re forced to go against your will, he won’t stand by and do nothing.’ That wasn’t just advice from his grandfather. In his heart, you’ve always been his younger brother—even if he never said it out loud.”
Chen Mo held his cup but hesitated to take another sip.
His mood inevitably sank.
Because the old man who had quietly laid out a path for him still lay unconscious in a hospital bed.
But in this life, someone told him—the person he once saw as an enemy had always considered him a younger brother.
Those clashes that seemed impossible to reconcile, the cruel words exchanged, still lingered in his mind. Chen Mo believed Yang Zhi had changed a lot in this life, but he still couldn’t completely believe that Yang Zhi truly saw him as a brother.
Because he remembered clearly that statement—
“In my understanding, I, Yang Zhi, have only ever had one younger brother—and that person is definitely not you.”
He didn’t know what kind of expression Yang Zhi wore the day the Yang family went bankrupt after his death.
He had no way of knowing, and no interest in knowing.
But in this life, Yang Zhi had already fulfilled the promise made to his grandfather.
So this time, Chen Mo was willing to go all in once again—for Yang.
—
When Xi Siyan walked in carrying two large shopping bags, Chen Mo was still sitting on the sofa typing up a project plan.
“What did you buy?” Chen Mo looked up.
Xi Siyan replied, “Just some daily essentials—for both of us.”
Chen Mo looked toward the entrance and saw him take off his shoes, then carry the bags into the kitchen. A moment later, he returned with a hot water bottle, filled with steaming water, which he placed on Chen Mo’s knees.
The warmth soaked into his bones, gently easing the chill from his wrists resting on the keyboard.
Chen Mo looked at the man bending down, his hair falling over his forehead, and mumbled in a daze,
“If someone didn’t know better, they’d think we just developed a new smart home assistant. Code name: Mr. Snail?”
Xi Siyan tucked a blanket over him and glanced sideways.
“Isn’t he supposed to be an all-rounder?”
“Do you want to be an all-rounder?” Chen Mo asked. “That’s a lot of work.”
Xi Siyan’s lips curved.
“I’m happy to serve. But I prefer to offer emotional support and sensory services. I’ll be at your beck and call, 24/7.”
Chen Mo instantly caught the subtext.
He rolled his eyes.
“Then I think there might be a bug in your code. You’re clearly not interpreting commands correctly.”
“Oh?” Xi Siyan lifted his chin and leaned in, brushing his lips against his. After a beat, his hoarse voice murmured,
“Then maybe the user manual needs more field testing. Just keep trying me out.”
With that, he stood up.
Before Chen Mo could drag his thoughts back and scold him, Xi Siyan had already turned and walked into the kitchen.
This man—usually the image of composure in a suit and tie at work or formal events—now stood in an apron. Just seeing his back gave Chen Mo the illusion that time could stop right here.
At this very moment, selfishly, you want to claim someone as your own—forever.
—
That Tuesday, while Yang’s shares were steadily diluted, a secret shareholders’ meeting took place.
CM suddenly announced it now held 37.6% of Yang Group’s shares—enough to exceed the golden control threshold and gain veto power over major decisions.
In short, what had seemed like a typical internal power struggle rooted in family inheritance was now a high-stakes game of capital and influence.
That day, the Yang family experienced an unprecedented surge of public attention amid the whirlwind of change.
The camps split clearly.
On the surface, it appeared to be a simple rivalry between Yang Zhi and Yang Shule. But behind the scenes, the real fight was between CM and UA—two financial giants backing each side.
The online debate boiled over once again.
[Is the Yang Group doomed to fall under foreign control?]
[You’re overthinking. It’s not decided yet. UA might seem ahead, but don’t forget how badly they lost in that Wall Street scandal three years ago.]
[I’m shocked CM got involved at all.]
[For the record, the Xi and Yang families have always had deep ties. It’s no surprise they’re teaming up to resist outside threats. The real villain is the illegitimate son, throwing away the family business for his own ambition.]
[Illegitimate son? He’s adopted.]
[I’ve never heard of this guy before. He’s not one of those “revenge plot” types, is he? You know, the abused or forgotten son who comes back after years abroad to fight for the family fortune?]
[No way. I heard the biological son didn’t get along with the Yang family.]
[This whole mess is huge, but the guy in question hasn’t even shown his face.]
[Maybe he’s not interested in getting involved?]
But only a few sharp-eyed people noticed—
In this “brothers at war” narrative, there was another man.
One who had once been named the rightful heir.
He had long been rumored to have a poor relationship with the Yang family—or to simply have no desire to participate.
But then, during Wednesday’s multi-party negotiation meeting—
Someone’s presence was impossible to ignore.
Early that morning—
A media reporter snapped a photo of Han Qian, who was attending the event as CM’s representative. Standing beside him was a young man.
They got out of the car together and walked side by side.
The young man wore a black suit. He didn’t look like an assistant or a subordinate. Occasionally, Han Qian would turn to speak with him, and the young man would nod slightly in response. His bearing was extraordinary.
At the entrance, they happened to run into Yang Zhi, president of the Yang Group—which only made things more intriguing.
Because instead of speaking directly with the CM representative, Yang Zhi first addressed the young man beside Han Qian. His approach wasn’t inappropriate, but it carried an air of natural familiarity—one that seemed intentionally close.
Logically speaking, Yang Zhi’s faction was supposed to be aligned with CM.
And yet, in all the photos leaked that day, the central figure wasn’t Yang Zhi, nor Han Qian—just a nameless young man whose identity was completely unknown.
Due to tight security, most of the photos only captured side profiles. None offered a full-frontal view.
At first, the media were puzzled. But eager to snag the headlines, they published the images anyway—without any real verification. Naturally, this sparked speculation. Some even guessed the man might be CM’s boss.
[I remember CM’s president doesn’t look like that. I saw an overseas interview—totally different vibe.]
[This guy definitely isn’t ordinary.]
[What’s with these half-baked media outlets? They didn’t even confirm who attended. But you can tell by the seating—this guy clearly outranks Han Qian.]
Twenty minutes into the negotiations, a lesser-known media outlet gave an ambiguous yet explosive answer.
Headline: “Mysterious Young Man May Be the Key Player—Suspected to Be Yang Family’s Biological Son, First Public Appearance”
The article wasn’t much different from other capital analysis pieces.
But it honed in on one key point: the mysterious young man who had suddenly drawn the spotlight.
The reporter claimed to have inside information.
His name—Chen Mo.
Yes, his surname wasn’t Yang.
And yes, it was true he didn’t have a good relationship with the Yang family. He’d grown up in the countryside. His appearance at this negotiation might be linked to the recent incident involving the Yang family patriarch.
Clearly rushed out, the article didn’t uncover much more about Chen Mo’s background.
Instead, it focused on recounting the incident involving Old Master Yang.
And then it dropped its conclusion:
The “accident” that befell the Yang family patriarch wasn’t accidental at all—it was a direct result of internal power struggles. The piece leaned heavily into conspiracy, suggesting that the old man’s favorite heir wasn’t the eldest grandson, Yang Zhi, but rather Chen Mo, the boy the Yang family had found years ago.
[??? So this isn’t just a two-way fight—it’s three factions going at it?]
[Han Qian showing up with him proves CM isn’t backing the Yang family, but Chen Mo specifically?]
[Who is this guy who can get CM to move for him? He’s even more mysterious than the adopted son.]
[Wait… so he is the one holding the revenge script?]
Now that he had a name and a general look—
Curious netizens started digging. And what they found shocked even them.
[Second place in the provincial college entrance exam…]
[Currently pursuing a joint Master’s and PhD at Q University…]
[One of the original investors of Xinrui Technology……]
[Core leader of the Xinrui R&D Center………………]
[A tech prodigy holding more than a dozen national and international patents…]
[Okay. The clown is me. 😭]
[How did I forget? Our hospital’s newly added R2D development team listed a Chen Mo as their No.1 lead this year!]
[Not just a boss. He’s a rich boss.]
[Who the hell gave me the illusion this guy was some humble bystander uninterested in rich people’s squabbles??]
Unaware that his entire résumé had just gone viral online, Chen Mo was sitting at the negotiation table inside a massive conference room.
It felt just like the negotiation fields of his previous life—where he had sparred with countless rivals.
Across the long table sat a foreigner whose face had turned red with anger.
Lunard.
A quarter Chinese, with half-bald yellow curls, a thick white beard, and an aged face, his cold gaze glinted as he ranted in rapid-fire speech to the interpreter beside him. His arms gestured wildly—furious and agitated.
Chen Mo understood every word but chose to ignore it.
Instead, he stood up and one by one, tossed several documents onto the center of the table.
The first:
“This is the result of the final shareholders’ vote.”
The second:
“This is the formal legal ruling declaring your fiancée Yang Shule’s inheritance claim invalid.”
The third:
“This is the joint venture agreement between the four parties…”
…
As Chen Mo thought about how this man had repeatedly tried to kill Xi Siyan—
His eyes turned ice-cold. He planted both hands on the table and looked straight ahead.
One word:
“Lunard.”
When the man turned toward him, Chen Mo said slowly,
“You won’t win. Take your empty hands and your wicked ambitions—and get the hell out.”
