Momo's Gradual Change

C98. Meeting the Family.

Chapter 98: Meeting the Family

The Mang City Wellness Center was widely reputed, with a price tag that matched its high standing.

Zhai Muyang, tall and striking, was well-known among the nurses and staff there.

It wasn’t unusual for prominent people to come here—some seeking an escape from the rigidity of official health facilities, enjoying the freedom and privacy.

However, even among this well-heeled crowd, few could rival Zhai Muyang’s looks and charisma.

There was an undeniable charm to him. The young nurses were often captivated, though in his presence, they would only manage to recall his words once he’d left.

Because of him, the staff here gave special attention to Old Zhai Yansong, who lived in the fourth courtyard.

As Zhai Muyang walked in with a young girl, some of the younger nurses couldn’t help but glance over curiously. But when they overheard the girl call him “Dage,” they sighed in relief.

“Dage, the nurses here are really friendly,” Song Yimo observed as they walked.

Zhai Muyang chuckled, pretending not to notice the curious glances. “A popular place naturally has its charm. The staff here are known for being top-notch.”

One nurse, gathering her courage, looked like she was about to greet him, but Zhai Muyang turned to his sister instead. “They make some famous vegetarian dishes here—let’s try a few for lunch.”

“Alright,” Song Yimo replied, smiling politely at the nurse, who turned red and hurried away. Watching her, Song Yimo touched her own face, wondering if it was somehow frightening.

Holding back laughter, Zhai Muyang put a hand on her shoulder, guiding her toward the fourth courtyard.

The wellness center wasn’t one big building but a series of smaller courtyards. Each housed about eight people, providing both privacy and community—a big part of why this place was so popular. Between each courtyard grew peach trees, and with peach blossoms in full bloom, the sight was a dreamy wash of pink.

“This is stunning,” Song Yimo murmured, her eyes wide as she took it all in. “It feels like walking into Peach Blossom Island from a classic novel.”

“In August or September, the peaches ripen,” Zhai Muyang told her. “When they do, I’ll bring you back to see it—every branch will be dotted with red-tinted peaches.”

“Really? These aren’t just ornamental?” she asked.

“Nope,” he replied, steering her into the fourth courtyard. “Don’t know the exact variety, but the peaches are huge and taste amazing. The proceeds from their sale go toward special events for the residents—a way to give back.”

“That’s thoughtful,” she said approvingly. “Not every wellness center would forgo such income. Keeping people happy and relaxed is worth the gesture.”

“Sure, but I doubt it was his thought. A fool who just thinking about profit,” came a dry voice from behind them.

Turning, Song Yimo saw a spirited elderly man with silver hair and a shovel slung over his shoulder. Zhai Muyang, not bothering to react to his tone, merely said, “This is Yimo, my little sister I mentioned. Yi Mo, he is the old man I told you about.”

“Good day, Grandfather,” Song Yimo said politely. “My grandma asked me to greet you and hopes you’ll visit us sometime.”

Hearing her respectful greeting, the barbs Zhai Yansong had prepared softened considerably. After a gruff noise or two, he simply said, “Come on inside.”

Seeing her courteous and gentle manner, Zhai Yansong’s smile grew as he led them inside.

"Ahem..." Zhai Muyang held back his laughter.

Zhai Yansong cast a fleeting glance at him, then turned towards the house on the left.

The door yielded to a gentle push, revealing an unlatched entry.

From the threshold, Song Yimo could perceive the room's spatial arrangement with clarity.

The rooms were much like a small two-bedroom apartment, with a bright and airy living room that connected to a dining area, kitchen, bathroom, and two bedrooms, along with a balcony visible through the living room doors.

The overall lighting in the house is very good.

Setting down his shovel on the balcony, Zhai Yansong returned. Zhai Muyang placed a bag on the coffee table and gestured for Yimo to sit, then took out a jar of tea leaves to prepare some tea.

“Old Zhai, heard your grandson is here!” called a voice from the yard.

“Just arrived, how’d you all know?” he answered, his tone unusually cheerful.

Song Yimo leaned over, catching a glimpse of the elder smiling, unexpectedly warm, despite her assumptions. She’d expected someone hardened by life’s tragedies—losing both a wife and daughter—but this was someone who still found joy.

He's a real old-timer, easy to chat with and always on the go.

When Zhai Muyang returned with two cups of tea, Zhai Yansong joined them in the room.

“Is your grandmother well?” he asked, looking at Song Yimo. “I heard she had surgery earlier this year—how is she now?”

“She’s recovering well,” Song Yimo said, leaning forward to hand him a cup. “She still goes for check-ups every couple of months, just in case. Dage mentioned he’d like to promote our county’s spring tea as a specialty product, and I wanted to ask your opinion. You’ve tasted it—do you think it could sell well?”

Zhai Yansong is a man of few words, yet his mind is a vast repository of knowledge. He speaks only when the inclination strikes him, and only to those he deems worthy of his discourse.

It was clear Zhai Yansong found Song Yimo agreeable, and he responded warmly, sharing his thoughts on the local tea.

As they spoke, Zhai Muyang went back to make more tea, realizing he was no longer the center of attention.

How can you blame him?

He and the old man have been at each other's throats for ages, and this kind of thing happens all the time.

Every time he'd show up, he couldn't even stomach a bite to eat, even at mealtime. He'd just have to sit there and watch the old man eat.

They were used to this weird dynamic. If he actually made the old man a cup of tea, the old man would probably think he was up to something.

Returning, he watched as his grandfather spoke enthusiastically.

Zhai Yansong's eyes widened in surprise as he looked at his grandson, who seemed a bit down. He studied Song Yimo and thought, "Hmm, this kid's got something."

"You know, I tried this tea years ago, but it was kind of meh. I don't know if it was because it was stored for too long. But this time, after drinking it for a couple of months, I'm really into it now. In fact, people from other courtyards have been asking me where they can get some! It's that good. I think it could really sell well."

Song Yimo just smiled, her eyebrows curving up.

Zhai Yansong was a bit taken aback. He didn't know what to say.

Zhai Muyang sat down next to Yi Mo. Finally, he nudged Zhai Yansong. “Just say what’s on your mind. You’re not known for being vague.”

“Alright,” Zhai Yansong said, giving Zhai Muyang a sidelong look before addressing Song Yimo. “It’s true that teas like oolong are all the rage now. Our tea might seem too light for those accustomed to richer flavors. Still, I think there’s a market—people here ask where to buy it after tasting it.”

Smiling, Yimo nodded, “Not everyone likes strong tea. There’s bound to be demand, even if it’s just enough to meet our county’s current production.”

Watching her animated response, Zhai Yansong leaned back, smiling, as the three continued talking into the afternoon.