This online game... Although Lu Jiuxiao didn’t play many games, he still knew this was the most famous evergreen hit in the genre. Over a decade had passed, yet it was still ranked among the top three most active games.
He just controlled his little priest, following his dad around newbie village and playing tourist, randomly tossing out a few skills. Even so, he found the game quite interesting.
As he read the skill descriptions, he listened to his dad say, “This game really stands out in terms of playability. Sure, top-ups can help you progress, but if you think you can just pay-to-win your way through, you’re dreaming. Spend some time with it. If you end up obsessed, we’ll talk about the future.”
With Shenshao Industry and the convenience waist patch, Lu Jiuxiao couldn’t help overthinking. Unless this game hit a huge nerve, he was determined to keep playing, no matter what.
Now that he’d calmed down, he was happy to get along with his dad. Not being willing to call him Dad... That was his last bit of stubbornness.
So he gave a soft “Mm,” and said, “I’ll try staying online four hours a day.”
By now, the previously rampant Huiwu had already shrunk into a corner, proving that the foolish son could indeed resist Huiwu on his own. All of Qin Jingzhou’s careful plans hadn’t gone to waste. Qin Jingzhou ruffled his silly son’s hair. “Very good.”
Suddenly, the System spoke up. “Turns out when he’s not having an episode, he’s a good-looking, quiet, well-behaved son—just a tad awkward, nothing serious.”
Qin Jingzhou laughed. “Honestly, I like chatty kids better, as long as they’re not spouting nonsense all day.”
The System remembered how Brother Zhou showed clear favoritism to his two other kids, Xuan Qing and He Chunxi—both Daddy’s little darlings who called “Daddy” at every turn. No matter how hard Lu Jiuxiao tried, he’d only ever be one of Brother Zhou's somewhat favored children. “True enough... The kid can’t even bring himself to call you Dad.”
Qin Jingzhou didn’t care much. “He just doesn’t say it out loud.”
The System added, “He already accepts you deep down.”
“Show him the world a few more times and he’ll be almost there. Time he learned to fight back. These days following me, his mindset’s shifted—he genuinely wants to see the Lu Corporation go bankrupt now.”
The System chimed in, “Lu Corp has over a hundred thousand employees, bankruptcy doesn’t happen that easily. The pushback from officials alone won’t be small. Wouldn’t it just be easier to change the board and management?”
“After he absorbs some more Huiwu—like when he gets back tomorrow—he’ll think of that himself.”
“Yep, Huiwu’s IQ-lowering effect is still pretty obvious.”
While Qin Jingzhou and his System chatted, Qin Er pulled Lu Jiuxiao into the “inner circle” guild.
As soon as he joined, Qin Er and Xu Chen took the lead, “Welcome, little boss.”
Their assistants echoed the greeting, “Welcome, little boss.” Other members—like the priest girl who’d run dungeons with Qin Jingzhou, her childhood friend, and Lin Baiming’s nephew—were all spamming the chat, “Young Master Cheng!”
Lu Jiuxiao greeted everyone, “Hello, everyone!” but inside he was thinking how perceptive this crowd was. He truly didn’t want to be a Lu anymore. If his mom could see him now, she’d support this. After the divorce, he’d change his surname.
Qin Jingzhou had no idea his silly son had made such a silent decision. At this moment, most of his attention was on the messages from the priest girl—his game account was still set to “block all private messages,” so the only way to talk to him in-game was through guild or party chat.
The priest girl was asking, “Mr. Cheng, would you consider an endorsement deal? Luxury ready-to-wear endorsement.”
He had to admit, the original host’s strong features plus his own unique aura—an ascetic, sickly ethereal beauty—had an overwhelming impact. Qin Jingzhou was not oblivious to that.
His series of candid photos and videos at Lu Corporation headquarters, even without any marketing, racked up over a billion views across several platforms in just a few days. Netizens usually had a short attention span, but a whole bunch hadn’t been able to forget him.
The priest girl continued, “Uncle Cheng, it’s fine if you ignore me—say yes or no however you want. I promise they’ll pay as much as you want… The advertising tagline is already more or less set: If you can’t make Mr. Cheng your husband, at least let your husband dress like Mr. Cheng.”
Her attitude made it pretty clear the brand execs knew he was a Gu martial master. Still, Qin Jingzhou had to say, “Maybe management can add a few more layers of clothing.”
Everyone in the guild laughed. Even through the screen, the infectious good mood was obvious.
Lu Jiuxiao turned to stare at his dad. After a moment, he finally said, “You... really are good-looking. When I first saw you, I actually wanted to spout some colorful language, but you were just too stunning. I… swallowed half of it back.”
His silly son was expressing closeness in his own way. Qin Jingzhou deliberately teased him, “So, you married Gu Su because she was pretty too?”
“No,” Lu Jiuxiao shook his head. “It’s because I knew she was Lu Zhentong’s first love. Since I couldn’t do anything to Lu Zhentong for the time being, I thought targeting Gu Su would get back at him. I really didn’t pick the wrong person—just underestimated Gu Su’s skills.”
Qin Jingzhou ruffled his son’s hair again. Knowing how to reflect and learn from his mistakes was a good sign.
The two of them played until almost one in the morning before heading to their own rooms to wash up and sleep.
It wasn’t his first day paraplegic—Lu Jiuxiao had always focused on working out his upper body. He couldn’t feel anything below the waist, but with various equipment and devices he’d gradually added, he was able to take care of himself to a certain extent.
Lying in bed, he stared at the ceiling, feeling rare peace of mind. Though today had forced him to recall many things he would’ve rather left buried, he’d cursed, he’d cried, and raised hell. Tonight, at least, he ought to sleep well.
He did fall asleep, but the nightmare came as always, haunting him. In a daze, he remembered being hit and split in two, his upper body trapped in a sea of flames. He couldn’t make a sound and could only watch as the endless fire drowned him… Then, just as he closed his eyes awaiting death once more, he felt a sudden grip on the back of his neck, the sensation of being airborne vanishing as he landed in a familiar, warm embrace…
Once he felt that grip at the back of his neck, he gave up resisting and went completely limp: Well, I’ll sleep, sleep… I’m safe now.
When he woke up, he glanced at his phone on the bedside table. It was eight thirty.
At this hour, Lin Baiming would definitely be in the living room freeloading breakfast! After getting up and quickly washing up, he maneuvered his wheelchair out of his room and, sure enough, saw Lin Baiming happily eating soup dumplings.
Just as Qin Jingzhou came out of the study, he asked Li Assistant—who’d just finished his porridge—“It’s set for ten o’clock, right?”
Qin Er could use a crutch now, but Qin Jingzhou still had him and his close buddy Xu Chen stay home and keep watch. While continuing to handle herbal medicine preparations, they’d also talk to the patients Qin Jingzhou had singled out—one critical patient who wouldn’t last a year without intervention, and another mild case who could be fixed up and sent away with barely any effort.
Qin Er and Xu Chen agreed solemnly.
After breakfast and changing clothes, Qin Jingzhou led the way downstairs, got in the car, and headed straight to the pharmaceutical factory he was interested in partnering with.
It’s worth noting that yesterday Assistant Li had taken the patent application, recipe, preparation process video, safety report, and a dozen samples of the convenience waist patch to file the patent with the relevant authorities.
It was said the waist patch had almost no side effects, unless someone ate and drank recklessly and then tried to hold it all in. The deputy bureau chief and the attending officer each took a patch to try it themselves. The result: Assistant Li filed in the morning, and by the end of the workday the patent had sailed through and was officially registered on the spot.
The person in charge even messaged Assistant Li, asking when the patches would hit the market and whether there would be internal purchase slots. Being able to avoid the bathroom for at least six hours per patch was just too convenient. As long as the price wasn’t outrageous, their whole department would take half a box to start with.
By “half a box”, they meant half a shipping container...
The production factory wasn’t even chosen yet, but the orders were already piling up. So that morning, Qin Jingzhou went to check out the big pharmaceutical factory Assistant Li had recommended. If everything looked good, he wouldn’t bother looking elsewhere.
As expected, Assistant Li proved reliable. The factory folks had obviously been tipped off, and after a quick tour, Qin Jingzhou decided to sign with this state-owned plant.
Since he had patients coming over in the afternoon, he didn’t stay for lunch with the plant managers but headed back as soon as possible.
Leaving the factory, he saw both directions of the crowded main road blocked by several large trucks. Qin Jingzhou didn’t hurry—he instructed the driver to “take a detour”, then asked his always-quiet son, “Are you scared?”
Lu Jiuxiao pushed up his glasses and smiled in a reserved way. “If I can’t avoid it, I’ll just face it.”
The driver and Assistant Li both focused, scanning the surroundings intently. There was no stopping the car. After turning onto a side road for just five minutes, suddenly four cars burst from the side streets, blocking both ends of their two-car convoy.
From the corner of his eye, Qin Jingzhou saw his own bodyguards in the follow car already pushing open their door. He grabbed his son by the collar with his left hand, leaned forward, and slammed his right hand over his assistant’s head. Assistant Li immediately ducked down, and a steel bar shot through the front window, piercing straight through the rear window.
Whoever threw that steel bar clearly targeted him, but just barely missed.
Qin Jingzhou picked up his son with one hand and hopped out of the car, slinging him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Using his divine sense to pinpoint the main attacker, he sprang into action, launching his long leg like a swing and sending it sweeping toward the Western martial artist who’d just hurled the steel bar.
Over there, they’d probably call it an Extraordinary.
There was a sound like a watermelon bursting, and Qin Jingzhou sped straight at the leader among the assassins. This time he didn’t use his legs, so the leader managed to react, now gathering his group in preparation for a volley of firearms and magic scrolls.
Qin Jingzhou blinked aside, dodging a round of gunfire. While the head assassin was busy activating his scroll, Qin Jingzhou darted back to the car, seized the steel bar stuck through it, and with brute strength yanked it out. In a flash, he switched his grip and hurled the spinning bar at the boss, who was still chanting.
A dull thud later and the scene turned into a field of pixelated mosaics.
Low-level scrolls had this unfortunate flaw—once the incantation was interrupted, they lost all effect on the spot, and the energy released usually “benefited” the boss and the few supporting idiots left conscious.
The spell scroll aimed at him was probably an ice spike spell. With the scroll destroyed, cold energy flooded everywhere, and the handful of survivors were treated to a real “icing on the bloody cake”. The grunt attackers in the two rear cars, who’d been occupying the bodyguards, scattered and fled.
At this point, the driver and assistant cautiously crawled out. The car, after being impaled by a steel bar, was now close to falling apart. Just as they were about to say something, Lu Jiuxiao—still perched on the shoulder—spoke up first, “No, I’m gonna puke!”
He’d naturally applied the convenience waist patch before going out, but the patch only handled things going down, not coming up… completely powerless there.
Qin Jingzhou immediately flipped his son around and carried him over to a nearby trash can. “Go ahead.”
The trash cans by this rural-urban boundary road... well, you could imagine the hygiene. Worse, none of these bins even had lids.
Faced with this kind of scene, Lu Jiuxiao should’ve just puked, but when he saw the contents of the bin, he nearly swallowed everything stuck in his throat right back down.
Assistant Li jogged over and handed him a vomit bag. “Little Young Master, how’s this? Could you try to make do?”
Lu Jiuxiao didn’t have time to answer. He tore open the bag. “Ugh!”
Qin Jingzhou was genuinely puzzled. “Does being upside down affect you that much?”
Lu Jiuxiao looked at his dad helplessly, “Ugh!”