Chapter 8
Chapter 8
The idea of Chen Mo moving to the school dorms was met with unanimous opposition in the Yang family.@@@@
His parents used seemingly reasonable arguments: "No matter what, the food and living conditions at home will always be better than at school. Your brother only lived in dorms when he went to college. We don’t feel comfortable with you moving to the dorms by yourself."
Yang Shu Le, with a mixture of pride and humiliation, said, “If you don’t want to ride with me to school, I can take the bus every day. Why are you moving into the dorms? It’s like you’re trying to make it seem like I’m kicking you out.”
Yang Zhi was the only one who didn’t say anything.
Perhaps it was because Chen Mo had only informed him of his decision.
Early on Monday morning, the Yang family gathered around the dining table for breakfast, a rare occasion.
Yang Zhi was browsing the news on his phone, indifferent to the tense atmosphere at the table. He simply said, “If he wants to live in the dorms, let him. He’ll eventually get tired of it and beg to come back.”
“Brother,” Yang Shu Le threw his spoon down into his bowl with a loud clink.
With a look of frustration on his face, he complained, “He’s the one who’s trying to drive me away, and now he’s moving to the dorms. What will my classmates think of me?!”
Zhou Yaoqing, their mother, gently consoled him, “Lele, don’t worry about what your classmates think. These things will pass quickly. What you need to focus on right now is your studies.”
At that moment, Chen Mo came downstairs, pulling a suitcase behind him.
As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he handed the suitcase to the driver and walked over to the table, sitting down at his place. Casually, he asked, “What’s everyone talking about?”
“We’re talking about your school plans,” Zhou Yaoqing said warmly as she ladled some soup into a bowl for him. “You and Shu Le are the same age and in the same class. Study hard, and in the future, you can help your brother with the family business. He’s working so hard these days.”
Yang Shu Le quickly interjected, “I’m not planning on working in the family business. I’m going to rely on my own abilities and make something of myself.”
Zhou Yaoqing beamed with pride and then turned to Chen Mo. “What about you, Xiao Mo?”
“Me?” Chen Mo chuckled softly. “Didn’t Grandpa say before that once I turn eighteen, I’ll receive dividends from the company at the end of each year? Just put my name on the company’s registry and have them deposit my share into my account every year. That’ll be enough for me.”
Zhou Yaoqing’s smile faltered for a second, her hesitation clear. “Well, that’s... also fine. Your brother certainly won’t treat you unfairly.”
Yang Zhi, who had been silent up until now, glanced at Chen Mo with a mix of surprise and sarcasm, unable to resist a jab, “Quite the ambition you’ve got there.”
Chen Mo didn’t bother responding.
Instead, the head of the family, Yang Qian’an, redirected the conversation.
“Do you really have to live in the dorms?”
Chen Mo, ever cooperative, replied, “It’ll help me focus more on my studies.”
Inwardly, he thought, They’ve already given me the role of a model student, so this excuse should be hard for them to refute.
After a few moments of contemplation, Yang Qian’an finally said, “If you want to live in the dorms, go ahead. If you ever need money, just ask.”
Seeing her husband give in, Zhou Yaoqing felt a sudden pang of guilt.
Chen Mo had only been living with them for a little over a month.
But he was no longer the same person he had been when he first came back.
The hostility that used to make her feel on edge seemed to have disappeared. He wore expensive clothes that fit him well, and his movements at the table—carefully sipping his soup—were refined and even pleasant to watch.
She couldn’t help but wonder what kind of person this son would have become if he had been raised with them from the start.
Lost in thought, she called out, “Sister Zhang?”
“Yes, ma’am?” The housemaid, Sister Zhang, wiped her hands on her apron as she emerged from the kitchen.
“Please serve Xiao Mo another bowl of soup from the pot,” Zhou Yaoqing instructed before turning to Chen Mo with a warm smile. “Drink up. The food at school won’t be as good as it is at home. This soup is light, and if you like it, you can come home on the weekends, and I’ll make it for you.”
Chen Mo set down his spoon and leaned back in his chair, a smile so sweet it could almost pass for mother-son affection. “Thank you, Mom.”
Next to him, Yang Shu Le gripped his own spoon tightly.
Just then, Sister Zhang hesitated before speaking up. “Madam, this soup has been simmering for two hours. There isn’t much left, and you said it was specially made to replenish Young Master Le’s energy...”
Chen Mo almost laughed out loud.
Zhou Yaoqing’s face turned awkward, quickly followed by a flash of irritation. “It’s not like there’s only one bowl left. How much can Lele drink by himself?”
“It’s fine, Sister Zhang,” Yang Shu Le said, lifting his head with a smile. “I’ve been taking medicine, and I’m feeling much better. I still have school today.”
Suddenly, their voices rose in excitement.
Chen Mo overheard one of them mention Xi Si Yan’s name.
“He was there?”
“It’s not surprising, right? Everyone says he’s close to the Yang family’s ‘fake son.’”
The other girl’s tone was calmer, though tinged with admiration. “I heard that when he graduated from middle school, the teachers recommended that he skip a grade, but for some reason, he didn’t. And he wins every academic competition, to the point that the top students from other schools are terrified of him. He’s smart, athletic, good-looking, rich... people like us can only dream of getting close to someone like him.”
Ah, the daydreams of young girls, so pure and full of hope.
With just a few pieces of scattered information, they could build up an image of their dream prince, imagining him as a perfect, heroic figure.
Chen Mo didn’t want to shatter their illusions by pointing out that the person they were talking about was part of the very same group of "rich kids with no sense."
Chen Mo had learned about Xi Si Yan’s love for racing purely by accident.
He also knew that during the two years Xi Si Yan had spent abroad, he had earned a professional international racing license and participated in several major competitions.
Out of the country, nobody cared that his last name was Xi. He could shed the gentlemanly façade and let his inner control freak take over.
Back home, however, he continued to play the part of the rising star of the Xi family, exchanging pleasantries with business moguls. Old acquaintances would still talk about him as if he were the same untouchable golden boy from his school days—the sun that drew the admiration of countless girls.
The conversation between the two girls continued.
This time, their tone shifted as one tapped the other’s shoulder, saying, “Wake up. He might not even like girls.”
“Oh, right. I’ve seen him play basketball, and wasn’t the boy waiting with a water bottle for him that Yang kid?”
“Yeah, I heard he hasn’t been to school for a while. But the two of them were spotted together at the Yang family’s party this weekend.”
“Do you think the reason he didn’t skip a grade was to stay with him?”
“You should post a full analysis on the forum—you’d be great at it.”
Chen Mo, quietly listening to their conversation, was amused, but soon it was his turn to enter.
The teacher on duty at the gate today was none other than the head of the second-year students, Mr. Lai—also known as “Bald Lai” by the students—who had nearly scared Gou Yiyang’s group half to death the previous Friday.
Mr. Lai was only in his forties, but his hair had thinned significantly.
He recognized Chen Mo.
Having seen both his old academic records and the recent news portraying him as a model student, Mr. Lai forced a kind smile onto his usually stern face. “I’ve already received your application to move into the dorms, Chen Mo. Your dedication to your studies is commendable. No matter how difficult your past may have been, now that you’re here, you must continue to work hard, study well, and live up to both your potential and the expectations of this school!”
The enthusiasm of Mr. Lai’s speech took Chen Mo by surprise.
His high school years here had been tense and stifling. Mr. Lai had genuinely worried about whether he would adapt, and had once told him not to pay attention to what people said about him at school.
In the years after graduation, Chen Mo had returned to visit the school a few times and had even taken Mr. Lai out for meals.
Even though Mr. Lai had aged quite a bit, he still held his position as the grade supervisor. Seeing Chen Mo back then, he had looked at him with pride. “When your college entrance exam results weren’t great, I really thought you’d lose heart. But you didn’t. I’m glad, I’m glad.”
During their last meal together, Mr. Lai had expressed concern, saying, “Chen Mo, you don’t seem well. Have things been hard for you these past few years? Sometimes, no matter what you do, life is still just life. Don’t push yourself too hard.”
Chen Mo had poured him a drink. “I’m fine. I appreciate that you’ve always cared.”
Now, back in the present...
Chen Mo stood lazily, smiling. “Thank you, Mr. Lai. I’ll bring you something next time as a token of my appreciation.”
Mr. Lai frowned and waved his hand. “Chen Mo, that’s not a good habit...”
“It’s nothing fancy. I recently discovered this black sesame paste. All-natural, no additives,” Chen Mo said, aware that the students around him were now stopping to listen, their eyes widening as he added, “It’s great for nourishing the liver and kidneys, protecting blood vessels, and... preventing baldness.”
There were a few muffled snickers at first, but soon laughter erupted all around.
One of the teachers nearby joined in the teasing, “Looks like students these days know how to bribe their way up. I think we’ll need to have you give a 300-word self-reflection speech at the flag-raising ceremony.”
Mr. Lai looked at Chen Mo, who was grinning with ease.
All of his previous worries seemed to have been for nothing.
“Get out of here already,” he said with a smile.
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