Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Chen Mo managed to get registered at the emergency room. The doctor was overly thorough, asking detailed questions about every symptom. By the time the IV drip was finished, it was already over an hour later.

Four large bottles of fluid later, the sky outside had begun to lighten.

Chen Mo was woken up by a nurse during his brief sleep. Seeing the calendar on the wall, he still felt his heart skip a beat for a moment.

The fever had receded like an ebbing tide, and the aches in his limbs had also lessened.

As the pain subsided, he could feel the vibrant vitality of his young body gradually returning.

It was mid-September, and the early morning breeze was cool. Sunlight shone on the rooftops of the city's tall buildings, and the clouds dispersed. At the hospital entrance, sanitation workers were sweeping fallen leaves from the roadside, their rustling sounds buried beneath the honking of cars in the city traffic.

Everything remained the same, yet completely different from yesterday.

Chen Mo ate breakfast and hailed a taxi.

The driver asked, "Where to?"

"Mingjingwan."

"Wow, that's quite a distance, more than ten kilometers." The driver started the meter, glanced back at him, and said with a smile, "Just leaving the hospital this early? Were you sick?"

Chen Mo: "Just a cold."

"With the temperature changes these past two days, it's easy to catch a chill." The driver was a rather enthusiastic middle-aged man who continued, "You're still in school, right? No one came with you when you were sick?"

Chen Mo smiled, "At my age, I'm no longer the type to call my parents when I'm sick."

"That's not right," the driver said, showing him a family photo stuck on the dashboard. His tone was bittersweet but mostly proud as he said, "My daughter is your age, doing well in school, and she'll be taking the college entrance exam next year. Her mother quit her job to take care of her full-time, and even then, she complains. But what can I do? I have to run around all day to make a living, right?"

Chen Mo glanced at the photo and said, "Your daughter is lucky."

"Lucky? Our family isn't wealthy; she'll have to rely on herself in the future." He looked at Chen Mo through the rearview mirror and added, "Young man, if you live in a place like Mingjingwan, your parents must be very busy. Otherwise, why wouldn't they worry about you?"

Chen Mo unexpectedly heard a hint of consolation and chuckled, "Maybe so."

But he really didn't need it.

The car drove smoothly to the villa area.

Chen Mo got out of the car but was stopped at the gate.

The security guard in the guardhouse scanned him up and down, seemingly assessing the value of his attire before saying, "Your information isn't registered in the residents' database. Please sign in."

Chen Mo wasn't surprised.

Mingjingwan was vast, and since he moved in, he had always been driven in a car.

The Yang couple was always busy, and a troubled Yang Shule, who couldn't eat properly after learning his true identity, was enough to worry them. It would be strange if they remembered Chen Mo for such minor details.

After signing in, he entered the gate.

It took him nearly ten minutes to reach the three-story villa belonging to the Yang family.

The scene at the entrance was bustling.

It was exactly the same as in his previous life.

There were about a dozen people gathered at the entrance, including the Yang family members, kitchen staff, maids, and drivers.

The central figure was roughly 1.75 meters tall.

With naturally curly light-brown hair, big eyes, and a few freckles on his face, he looked youthful even when angry.

"Give it to me!" he stood there, his neck red with anger.

Xu, the fifty-year-old housekeeper, moved the suitcase back slightly, looking somewhat helpless, "Shule, stop it. You're still sick."

A middle-aged man standing two meters away seemed furious, "Let him go! Let's see how long he can keep this up."

"Yang Qi'an, are you crazy?" The woman beside him, well-maintained and wearing a pearl necklace, looked worried, "The doctor said he has low blood sugar. He's never even washed a dish in his life. How will he survive outside!"

Yang Shule, moved by Yang Qi'an's words, his eyes welled up, and he suddenly shouted, "I'm not your biological son! I don't belong here!"

The scene fell silent for a moment.

Zhou Yaoqing burst into tears, "When you were little, you were always sick and had to take medicine. We finally raised you this far, and this is how you hurt our hearts?"

"Mom," Yang Shule cried, "I overheard everything. Chen Mo used me as a condition, or else he wouldn't drop the lawsuit. Dad works overtime every day because of company issues. I don't want this. Many people say I took everything that belonged to your real son. Can I give it back?!"

"Alright, alright," Yang Qi'an, as a father, placed a hand on his son's shoulder, "Ignore those words."

Yang Shule: "But Chen Mo is your biological son. He can't tolerate me, and you'll keep arguing."

Yang Qi'an: "That was just in the heat of the moment. We'll explain things to him."

Zhou Yaoqing: "Yes, Shule. In our hearts, both of you are equal. You're both our children."

"It's not the same," Yang Shule shook his head and stepped back, "I know it's not the same anymore."

Halfway through stepping back,

Yang Zhi supported him from behind.

Yang Zhi, who had already entered society, was taller than Yang Qi'an.

He frowned, looking at the tearful Yang Shule, and scolded, "Look at yourself now."

"You know nothing!" Yang Shule punched Yang Zhi's arm and his eyes turned red again. "It's easy for you to say when it hasn't happened to you!"

What a touching family drama.

A stern father, a gentle mother, a silent and reliable elder brother, and a seemingly mischievous but caring younger son.

Anyone who saw this scene would think, how harmonious and happy this family would be if not for Chen Mo.

Unfortunately, the world lacks "ifs" the most.

Just then, someone suddenly said, "Chen Mo is back."

Everyone's gaze shifted toward the back.

Chen Mo stepped forward.

Yang Zhi, standing at the front, instinctively pulled Yang Shule behind him, perhaps not even realizing the protective gesture. Yang Zhi had his own scale in mind, clearly tilted; his familiar younger brother was just spoiled, and he was no match for someone like Chen Mo.

Unexpectedly, Chen Mo walked past everyone, completely ignoring them.

"Wait!" Yang Zhi called out, frowning. "Didn't you see your parents? Don't you know to greet them? And last night, you didn't reply to my messages or answer my calls. What are you up to?"

Chen Mo paused, raising an eyebrow.

He glanced back at Yang Zhi, nodded at Yang Qi'an and Zhou Yaoqing, and said, "Dad, Mom."

The Yang couple was somewhat stunned.

This was the first time Chen Mo had called them since returning.

There was no joy of a long-awaited reunion, no emotional recognition.

Only endless awkwardness, silence, and discomfort.

The servants whispered among themselves.

"He finally knows to call them now."

"Probably here to gloat."

"Will Xiao Le really leave? I saw his luggage packed."

"The master and mistress won't let him go."

"And there's still the eldest son. He dotes on his younger brother the most and won't let him be bullied."

...

Chen Mo, who seemed like the bully, turned to Yang Zhi. "I've greeted them. Is there anything else?"

"Xiao Mo." Zhou Yaoqing suddenly stepped forward and held his hand.

She came from wealth and had never known hardship. When she first learned the truth, she was devastated.

During their first meeting in the countryside, she caught Chen Mo fighting with his foster father, his eyes fierce as if ready to kill.

His speech carried a local accent.

When he carried water using a ceramic bucket, his hands were full of calluses.

Was this her son?

She asked herself countless times.

But along with the truth came a crisis for the company and another challenge in her marriage.

Especially in contrast, the carefully raised younger son seemed even more affectionate. He could argue with his parents one moment and then pout and ask for things the next, pampered and innocent, making handmade gifts for Mother's Day to cheer her up, bullying his elder brother while seeking help from him at every turn.

No matter what, letting Shule live alone was out of the question.

Zhou Yaoqing said to Chen Mo, "Your father and I know you're angry. The lawsuit withdrawal is only temporary, given the risks it poses to the company. You're young, so you might not understand these complexities..."

"I understand," Chen Mo interrupted. "Managing the company isn't easy, and you're caught between a rock and a hard place. If the lawsuit needs to be withdrawn, so be it. Li Yunru did raise me for seventeen years, and I remember that."

"Do you really feel that way?"

"Of course."

Seeing the relief in their expressions, Chen Mo maintained sincerity.

Zhou Yaoqing hesitated and then cautiously asked, "Then... can your brother still live with us?"

"Sure," Chen Mo nodded. "If it makes you happy."

As if the person who had been so adamant just two days ago wasn't him.

Was he being sarcastic?

Everyone wondered, but then they heard him ask, "Is there anything else, Mom?"

This "Mom" made Zhou Yaoqing pause.

She realized how different this child was today. Not just in demeanor, but in his words, which were perfectly polite yet somehow felt hollow. She felt a void in her heart.

"No, nothing else," Zhou Yaoqing said.

Just as Chen Mo turned away, Yang Shule, standing behind Yang Zhi, suddenly jumped out.

"Chen Mo, I will move out. I don't need your charity."

The servant trembled, ready to deal with Chen Mo, who was said to have been involved in frequent fights back in the county high school. Everyone watched as he stopped, seemingly pinching the bridge of his nose.

Then he turned around and walked over.

"Chen Mo," Yang Zhi reached out to stop him.

Chen Mo glanced at the arm blocking his chest but didn't push it away forcefully. Instead, he beckoned to Yang Shule, "Come out."

Zhou Yaoqing was very nervous. "Xiao Mo."

Yang Qi'an said, "Stop this. Let's talk things out."

Yang Shule looked at him for a moment, gathering courage from the surrounding voices. He pushed aside his brother's arm and stepped forward.

Yang Shule: "I never felt I owed you anything. If you want to fight today..."

The rest of his words stuck in his throat.

Because Chen Mo simply straightened his collar for him.

Chen Mo was half a head taller. With both forearms resting on the other's shoulders, he seemed relaxed, slightly lowering his head, "How could it be considered charity?"

Yang Shule's pupils widened, frowning, "What are you doing?"

Chen Mo appeared unmoving but actually restrained Yang Shule's resistance, speaking casually, "Let's chalk up the past to my lack of clarity. We're all family; why differentiate? In this house, if you want to stay, stay. You were born after me, so you're indeed younger. It's the older brother who's being narrow-minded. Don't take it personally."

Yang Shule seemed shocked and pushed him away.

Chen Mo shrugged, looking around, "Is this apology not sincere enough?"

Everyone else: "..."

Chen Mo continued, "It seems everyone is satisfied. Can we stop calling me now? I just want to go back and get some sleep. I stayed up all night, and my mental state isn't great. My patience only extends this far. Can we bear with each other? Is that okay?"

Finally, in an eerie atmosphere, Chen Mo managed to leave.

He opened the door, went upstairs, took a shower, and went to bed.

This sleep was deep.

The bed was soft, the air conditioner set to a comfortable temperature, and the humidifier's slight hum helped him sleep.

He slept soundly until midday without any guilt.

When the knocking on the door started, he had just opened his eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Young Master Mo, it's time for dinner," the servant called.

When Chen Mo opened the door, he was still tying the belt of his robe. As he walked out, he said, "Don't call me that; it sounds awkward."

The female servant responded softly.

The one who claimed to dislike being called 'Young Master' didn't realize how fitting the term was for him at that moment.

Slipping his feet into slippers, his robe slightly open, he ran his hand through his slightly messy hair after washing it, yawning as if he were the master of the villa.

Descending the spiral staircase, he sat down casually at the dining table.

"It's daytime, and you haven't even changed your clothes."

Chen Mo looked up at the person approaching, sneering, "Anyone would think you're my dad."

Yang Zhi, dressed formally as if about to leave after eating, sat across from Chen Mo, looking at him as if trying to see through his sudden change of heart, saying, "You don't want Dad to personally discipline you."

Chen Mo, familiar with Yang Zhi from years of conflict, replied, "Don't scare me with him. Besides, he probably feels guilty toward me right now."

As he spoke, his phone beeped.

He glanced at it and chuckled, "Look, the compensation came in promptly."

Yang Zhi ignored his seemingly indifferent attitude, saying, "Tomorrow is Sunday. Shule invited classmates over."

Chen Mo forked a piece of broccoli, "Why are you telling me this?"

Yang Zhi had heard rumors circulating at school and wanted to remind him not to make things difficult. For some reason, his gaze fell on the small bruised spot on Chen Mo's hand where a needle had been inserted.

Yang Zhi was taken aback.

He asked, "What did you do last night?"

"Last night?" Chen Mo smiled lightly, "I went to cultivate myself. Otherwise, why do you think this table can still seat two people?"

The servant serving the food dared not breathe loudly.

She sensed that something significant might be changing in this household.