Momo's Gradual Change - VOL. 1

C153. Daily Life of The Siblings, Part 6.

Chapter 153: Daily Life of The Siblings, Part 6

Zhai Muyang gently pressed Yimo down to sit on a bench overlooking the river. Leaning against the railing, he looked at her with a soft smile. “What about you? Have you thought about your future?”

Song Yimo hesitated, shaking her head slightly. “I haven’t decided yet. I’m studying foreign languages, so there are only so many paths I can take. Grandpa hopes I’ll walk the broad, shining road, but not everyone gets that chance.”

“So, deep down, you’re not opposed to it?”

She sighed. “But I want to come back here.”

He walked over, gently ruffling her hair before sitting beside her. “You can always come back here, Yimo. But think about it—there’s a whole world out there, a vast expanse full of possibilities. Don’t you want to experience it?”

Song Yimo leaned her head on his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh. “Of course I do. Who doesn’t have a little ambition? I mean, just look at the interpreters on TV, those who accompany leaders overseas—they look so composed and sharp. Even the women, they have such an air about them, it’s almost… dashing.”

“Then become one of them.”

He said it with such certainty, as if setting a goal and striving for it would make it come true. She looked up. “Do you really think I could?”

“Absolutely. Your starting point is already far ahead of most. Even those who start language schools in high school might not have your dedication. Or, do you think you haven’t worked hard enough?”

“How could I not?” Song Yimo’s confidence was unwavering. She knew better than anyone how much effort she’d poured into her studies.

In the beginning, it was all for her grandfather—she didn’t want to let him down. She compressed her time to the extreme, dedicating hours beyond their sessions to reinforce what she’d learned, determined to master every lesson by the next day’s test. She wasn’t naturally gifted, but everyone thought she was, and she could only repay that belief with even more effort.

She’d always believed that diligence could make up for any lack of talent. Even if she wasn’t a prodigy, that didn’t mean she couldn’t eventually catch up to those ahead.

“I’ll work hard, Dage.”

“But don’t put too much pressure on yourself. University is different from high school,” Zhai Muyang chuckled. “Besides, you don’t need to focus on networking like others do. Just follow your heart. Make friends if they’re worth it; if they’re not, even if they’re impressive, you don’t need to bother with them. No one’s going to stand in your way here. Don’t forget, this city is your dage’s turf.”

Song Yimo’s eyes softened with a smile. She was a grown woman now, her youth radiant and her features elegant. Her long hair was loosely tied back, and her bright complexion and delicate features made people passing by take a second look. A young man nearby paused, glancing their way.

Beautiful people are common, and anyone can enhance their looks with a little effort, but true grace—the kind that speaks of good upbringing and an innate poise—is rare. And Song Yimo had that natural charm, captivating in her own quiet way.

But she was oblivious to it. Zhai Muyang, however, now fully aware of his own feelings, wasn’t. He glanced over, took her hand possessively, and helped her up. “Let’s go back. It’s getting warm.”

“All right.”

They hadn’t walked far when they heard hurried footsteps behind them. Zhai Muyang turned with a cool, assessing gaze.

The young man who’d been watching them slowed slightly under his stare but quickly picked up his pace and approached. “Hello, excuse me—could you tell me which direction to the scenic area?”

Song Yimo raised an eyebrow. “The scenic area has opened already? I thought it was set for the fifteenth.”

“It is,” Zhai Muyang replied, eyeing the young man with a hint of suspicion, “but some people who are in the know have arrived early. Who’s your family?”

The young man nodded, “I’m from the You family. My name is You Shen.”

You?

Though the name didn’t match any immediate connections, Zhai Muyang recalled knowing a family by that surname.

“What’s your relation to Zou Mo?”

You Shen’s eyes lit up. “He’s my cousin—my aunt’s son.”

Seeing the way he occasionally glanced at Song Yimo soured Muyang’s mood. But given he was only Zou Mo’s cousin, he held back, taking out his phone and dialing.

“Zou Mo, are you at Xinghu yet?”

Noticing Song Yimo leaning closer to listen, Muyang turned on speaker.

“Got here early this morning,” Zou Mo’s voice came through, “I’m with my mom at the health retreat now. This place is fantastic, Muyang.”

Zhai Muyang smirked to himself. Of course it was—he’d poured a third of the scenic development funds into the retreat. The cutting-edge equipment and lush imported trees alone had been a massive investment.

“Is Auntie doing her checkup?”

“Yeah, just a precaution after the flight. Are you at home or at the Red House?”

The “Red House” had been coined by Zheng Senlin, and the name stuck. It was a favorite place, so much so that a few people still stayed there occasionally.

“At home.” Zhai Muyang glanced at You Shen. “Did you bring family?”

“My aunt’s family. Who’d you run into?”

“Your cousin. Talk soon.”

Zhai Muyang hung up and pointed ahead. “Keep walking straight, turn left at the first light, and cross two intersections.”

You Shen seemed to want to say more, but Zhai Muyang’s cool demeanor discouraged him. He thanked them and left, though likely with intentions to follow up with his cousin later.

"Thanks."

Song Yimo offered him a friendly smile, then took her brother’s arm as they walked off. Once they’d gained some distance, she asked, “Are we going to the retreat?”

“We should stop by. Auntie’s a kind woman,” Zhai Muyang replied, fondly. Despite her sacrifices to keep the family intact, she’d managed to give Zou Mo a devoted mother’s love.

People like them—no matter how troubled or misunderstood—would never fail the ones who truly cared about them.

They returned home briefly to freshen up, then headed to the retreat after bidding her grandparents farewell.

When they arrived, Zou Mo seemed unsurprised, introducing them as he held his mother’s hand. “This is Muyang’s adopted sister, Song Yimo—a wonderful young lady.”

His mother was petite and appeared frail, her gentle gaze filled with warmth. “A girl both of you admire can’t be anything less. Yimo, thank you for coming.”

“Aunt You, it’s a pleasure. I hope you enjoy our little Xinghu.”

“Oh, it’s lovely here. So peaceful, like a small town abroad. And I heard you even built houses with red roofs and gardens? I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Home is a deeply rooted part of one’s heart, and to hear hers praised so fondly made Song Yimo smile, dimples forming. You’s mother watched her with even greater fondness.