As Yang Mo stepped into the familiar yet distant compound, he was immediately greeted by an enthusiastic voice.
"Ha! Young Master, you're finally back!" Uncle Libo, the long-time caretaker of the Lynn family estate, quickly turned off his weed whacker and rushed towards them, a look of relief and joy on his weathered face.
Yang Mo's gaze softened slightly at the sight of the old man. "Uncle Lee, how's your health these days? Has your cough gotten better?"
Libo beamed, patting his chest proudly. "Much better! Young Master, the medicine you gave me was miraculous! I took it for a week straight, and my cough disappeared completely. The doctors at the hospital were stunned! They couldn't believe how quickly my condition improved!"
Seeing Libo's renewed energy, Yang Mo couldn't help but feel gratified. "That's good to hear, but your condition is a chronic one. If you want to eliminate it entirely, you'll need to follow another course of treatment. I'll prepare another prescription for you. Take it for a month, and you should be completely fine."
Libo's eyes welled up with gratitude. He had originally taken the medicine just to humor Yang Mo, not expecting it to work. Now, realizing its true effectiveness, he was overjoyed. If this cure really worked as Yang Mo claimed, he might even live for decades more.
Meanwhile, Lian Wanying stood frozen in place, shocked by what she was hearing. Was this real? Uncle Libo had suffered from chronic bronchitis and accumulated lung disease for years. She had personally witnessed his struggles, his countless visits to hospitals, and the doctors shaking their heads in helplessness. And yet, Yang Mo had cured him in just a few doses? How was that possible?
Recalling how he had also saved their eldest sister's hand with just two stitches, something the hospital had deemed impossible, she felt an eerie realization creeping in—Yang Mo knew far more than they ever imagined.
Libo, oblivious to her thoughts, continued with enthusiasm, "Young Master, if you're back, does that mean Mr. Lynn has finally come to his senses?"
Yang Mo's expression immediately cooled. "No, I'm only here to make things clear. And Uncle Lee, please stop calling me 'Young Master.' I have nothing to do with the Lynn family anymore."
Libo's face fell, but he quickly recovered. "Young Master, no matter what happens, you will always be the Young Master in my heart. Now, hurry inside. Everyone's waiting for you."
As they stepped into the grand lobby, Yang Mo found himself facing his mother, Zhou Fang, along with his eldest and second sisters. They had clearly been waiting for his return. Even Lin Coen, the so-called "son" of the Lynn family, stood among them, his face dark with barely suppressed hostility.
The moment Zhou Fang laid eyes on her long-lost son, she rushed toward him, her voice trembling. "M-Mo… You've suffered so much. Let me hold you, just for a moment."
But Yang Mo effortlessly sidestepped her embrace, his expression impassive.
Zhou Fang's hands hung in the air, her entire body trembling. "Mo... can't Mommy even hold you anymore?"
"There's no need for that," Yang Mo replied coldly. "I'm only here to clarify things. It wasn't me who insisted on coming back—it was your precious daughter who practically forced me here. I'm not here to reunite with the Lynn family."
His words struck her like a dagger. The warmth she had longed to give him, the motherly love she had neglected for years, had been reduced to nothing but a cold rejection.
Zhou Fang's lips trembled, but before she could respond, she quickly wiped her eyes and turned to the servants. "Prepare dinner immediately! No matter what happens, Mo, you must be hungry. Let's eat first and talk later, okay? It won't take long."
Yang Mo watched as she hurried into the kitchen. He scoffed internally—why go through the trouble now? What was the point?
From the corner of the room, Lin Coen clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palm. Seeing how Zhou Fang was treating Yang Mo filled him with hatred. The moment Yang Mo returned, all attention shifted to him. It was clear who the real son of the Lynn family was in their eyes.
Lin Xia, who had been silently observing, stepped forward and tried to take Yang Mo's hand. "Mo, sit down. No matter what, just have dinner with us before we talk."
But Yang Mo immediately pulled his hand away, refusing any form of closeness.
The sisters exchanged uneasy glances. They knew they had hurt him deeply, and no matter what they did now, they couldn't make up for it.
Minutes later, Zhou Fang returned from the kitchen, followed by several servants carrying steaming dishes.
"M-Mo, sit down and have a meal."
At that moment, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the hall. The head of the Lynn family, Lynn Andone, descended the stairs. The moment he laid eyes on Yang Mo, his expression shifted.
The air in the room grew heavy with tension.