The Unlucky One in a Crematorium-Style Story (4) To be honest, if someone hired a hitman in Eastern Europe or South America, Qin Jingzhou wouldn’t find it surprising. But for Jiang Ruitong to dare pull something like this in the capital of Huaguo, in Jing City of all places… Qin Jingzhou didn’t even know whether to say Jiang Ruitong was bold or outright insane.
The system watched the host’s expression and said: “Insane, but not completely insane?” It knew its host had genuinely been angry just now, even if that flash of fury vanished in an instant. The system had already begun silently lighting a candle for Jiang Ruitong.
Qin Jingzhou was about to say something else when the cheap-bin son on his shoulder let out a barely audible cry of pain.
When he had dragged the kid out through the car window, Qin Jingzhou had deliberately chosen the angle and strength carefully. At most, the boy should have suffered minor burns, abrasions, and a few scattered cuts—nothing serious enough to warrant crying out in pain.
Which meant the problem had to be with the left lower leg wrapped in plaster.
Qin Jingzhou pressed a hand against the cast and felt it carefully. “His left leg needs to be redone. Otherwise, once it heals like this, he’ll walk with a limp. Same as in the last world—my cheap son breaks a leg, I reconnect legs. Am I just fated to this?”
In the previous world, the cheap son’s leg had almost been ruined, largely due to the medical standards of the time. In this world… fixing a broken leg was something any hospital could do well. Clearly, this kid had been screwed over again.
The system and Qin Jingzhou had developed a bit of tacit understanding and promptly reminded him, “This incident wasn’t in the plot. Supporting male Jiang Bowu dated an internet celebrity for a while, discovered he was wearing a green hat, and angrily broke up with her. Later, he realized the female lead was irreplaceable, but since he couldn’t bring himself to use underhanded schemes to split up the leads, he poured all his energy into his career instead.” “Then he got dragged down by me.”
Qin Jingzhou shifted his grip, changing from carrying the kid over his shoulder to a princess carry. He walked a few steps to the side and carefully placed the boy onto a bench beneath the shade of roadside trees.
Jiang Bowu sat on the bench, his injured leg—so painful it had made him sweat—dangling without touching the ground. Subconsciously, he grabbed onto his biological father’s sleeve.
As he finally relaxed, the scene from earlier replayed vividly in his mind: the truck ramming into the rear of the car, flames surging up, the heat lightly scorching his skin, and then his father appearing out of nowhere and yanking him straight out of the vehicle… Now, fire engines had already arrived. With a head full of things he wanted to say, he didn’t know where to begin. Enduring the pain, he hesitated before asking, “Did you… accidentally obtain some kind of inheritance?”
Qin Jingzhou watched as the firefighters extinguished the open flames on both vehicles within three minutes. “We’re going to the hospital first. Your leg was set wrong.”
Jiang Bowu’s expression had still been complicated from emotional turbulence, but at those words, his face darkened again. His hand, however, continued to grip his father’s sleeve tightly.
Qin Jingzhou laughed. He had very little resistance to kids who bloomed the moment they were given a bit of warmth. He used his other hand to rub the boy’s head, pressing a few acupoints along the way to ease the pain.
The pain quickly subsided, and Jiang Bowu calmed down as well. He looked toward the driver, who was holding up his phone and talking nonstop, deep in thought.
Soon, 119, 110, and 120 arrived one after another.
The truck driver was basically unscathed, so no matter how convincingly he acted shaken and at a loss, he still had to go sit at the police station for a while. Jiang Bowu’s driver hesitated briefly, then chose to follow the father and son to the hospital instead.
At a glance, Qin Jingzhou could tell that the driver was at most just protecting himself. He probably hadn’t been bought off and bore no ill will toward the kid.
At the nearest top-tier hospital, new scans were taken at Qin Jingzhou’s request. The results confirmed his judgment: the left leg had indeed been set incorrectly.
Ancient martial inheritances didn’t just include internal and external techniques. They also came with methods for strengthening the foundation, replenishing vitality, and treating injuries—countless ancient prescriptions. Many of these formulas had long since been put into use.
The cheap son had broken his lower leg three days ago, and by today, it had already begun to heal slightly… just crooked. If they broke it again now, the situation would become far more complicated.
Even the most experienced chief physicians wore grave expressions.
Seeing this, Qin Jingzhou took out his phone and showed his Martial Artist Certificate to the chief physician. “I’ll do it.”
The chief physician hesitated, then chose to trust him. The certificate carried enormous weight. Moreover, just looking at the striking resemblance between these two, it was clear they were either father and son, uncle and nephew, or brothers—some very close blood relation.
After seeing his father’s Martial Artist Certificate with his own eyes, Jiang Bowu no longer had any doubts. “Mm. You do it.”
Qin Jingzhou stepped forward and once again scooped his son up in a princess carry, placing him on the operating table. “You’re way too skinny.” As he spoke, his palm rose and fell.
Jiang Bowu didn’t even have time to retort with “You’re not much better yourself” before a piercing, bone-deep pain struck, making him cry out. He forcibly swallowed most of it, letting out only a restrained howl, before hearing his father tell the eagerly watching doctors, “Alright. If you don’t believe it, take another scan.”
Well, since you put it that way, no one was going to miss the chance to witness a miracle.
On the X-ray, Jiang Bowu’s fibula—once broken clean in two—was perfectly realigned. Even the cracks in the tibia looked slightly reduced.
Everyone had watched Qin Jingzhou break and reset the leg with their own eyes… At this point, even the chief physician felt tempted to ask whether Qin Jingzhou might be willing to give some private pointers.
Jiang Bowu stared at the X-ray in silence.
Qin Jingzhou patiently waited for his son to settle his emotions before tossing out the “bait.” “Your mother wants you to join Jiang Corporation after you graduate, right?”
Jiang Bowu nodded.
Qin Jingzhou continued, “You’ve seen what the Jiang family’s been like these past few years. I know you’re conflicted and don’t trust me. It’s true—I’m not a responsible, good father. But you can still think it over. Do you want to live with me and inherit the family’s legacy and martial arts hall?” He smiled. “Even if Jiang Corporation reaches the top, you’ll still just be a high-level wage slave. The shares will never fall into your hands. A top-tier martial artist’s influence isn’t necessarily inferior to that of a financial conglomerate. Our family may not have a throne, but becoming a regional overlord? That’s something we can fight for.”
Jiang Bowu looked up, infected by his father’s radiant smile. “You really want me to live with you and inherit the… family business?”
If this had been before, seeing his father suddenly act so kindly, he would’ve thought the old man was trying to butter him up for retirement. But after seeing the Martial Artist Certificate and witnessing his father’s abilities, he knew perfectly well that his dad would never lack someone to take care of him in old age…
He didn’t want to admit it, but shamefully, his heart had truly been stirred.
After a moment of silence, he spoke again. “Let me think about it.”
Qin Jingzhou smiled and agreed. “Alright.” The silly kid was clearly wavering.
When the father and son walked out of the hospital and prepared to head home, Jiang Bowu’s mother—the original owner’s ex-wife, Miss Jiang—finally called, fashionably late.
Jiang Bowu leaned on his crutches and sat down on a bench to answer the call.
Qin Jingzhou asked the driver, who had been quiet as a chicken, “You told Miss Jiang that my son and I are together, right?”
The driver answered honestly, “Yes.”
Qin Jingzhou lit a cigarette. “Since you’re paid by Miss Jiang, you should head back.”
The driver felt as if he’d been granted amnesty. “Okay, I’ll leave right away.” He quickly hailed a taxi by the roadside and vanished from Qin Jingzhou’s sight.
Just then, Jiang Bowu hung up the phone. His expression didn’t look good. “She said I don’t need to worry about the car accident anymore. Maybe I’m overthinking it, but when she asked about my injured leg, her words felt… loaded.” As he finished, he subconsciously grabbed his father’s sleeve again.
The sensation… was a bit like a kitten plopping its rear solidly onto your foot.
Qin Jingzhou’s tone changed immediately. “Your current stepfather, Weng Zhenghe, has been around longer than I have. After all these years, he finally had a son with your mother. The greatest achievement of a kept man is seizing the throne; the second greatest is making sure his son inherits it.”
Of course Jiang Bowu understood that logic.
But before this, his stepfather had treated him well—caring more about his daily life than his own mother did. He needed some time to digest and accept this.
Propping his hands against the bench, he prepared to stand up when someone suddenly called out to him, “Jiang… Bowu? Dad—no, Uncle Shangguan?”
The original owner’s surname was Shangguan.
Qin Jingzhou looked over in response. With the system’s reminder, he recognized the speaker as the so-called fake young master, Quan Ruilan.
In this novel, the true-and-fake young master plot was handled differently from most stories.
Once their identities were clarified, the two immediately returned to their respective families. After graduating and starting work, they only had minor professional friction during business dealings. Outside of that, they could even be considered friends.
Quan Ruilan stepped forward to ask about Jiang Bowu’s leg, then said bluntly, “Sorry, I only overheard a little while passing by. Back then, we weren’t close enough for me to speak frankly. Now I’ll just say what I really think—damn it, the Jiang family is not a place for humans to stay. Run, fast! Compared to the Jiang family, the worst internal fighting in my family is just hair-pulling. It’s practically paradise! This time you broke a leg—mark my words, next time it might be your neck!”
Qin Jingzhou couldn’t help but smile. The system laughed as well: “To sum up the original owner’s relationship with Quan Ruilan… not that close. By the end of the novel, Quan Ruilan lives very comfortably. Nothing worth making a fuss over.” Quan Ruilan glanced at his former father, pressed his lips together, and chose his words carefully. “At the very least, Uncle Shangguan doesn’t harm people or casually use them. The Jiang siblings raise kids like they’re cultivating gu…”
How could Jiang Bowu not know Quan Ruilan was right?
He was just a little reluctant… and a little unwilling to let go.
Seeing that Jiang Bowu had clearly taken it to heart, Quan Ruilan stopped there.
Qin Jingzhou pulled his son to his feet and invited Quan Ruilan, “Let’s have a meal together sometime?”
Quan Ruilan accepted happily.
After returning home, Qin Jingzhou told his cheap son to order takeout while he placed an order for a pile of medicinal ingredients, preparing to brew decoctions and ointments to relieve pain, reduce swelling, and speed up healing.
Lost in thought and with little appetite, Jiang Bowu drank a bowl of porridge, then curled up on the sofa hugging his laptop, unmoving.
Qin Jingzhou was brewing medicine in the kitchen when the doorbell rang.
Through the intercom, he saw that Miss Jiang herself had arrived.
Qin Jingzhou let her and her assistant in—she hadn’t brought Weng Zhenghe along, so clearly she still had some reservations.
Miss Jiang sat on the sofa and studied Qin Jingzhou for a moment before speaking without pleasantries. “Three days apart, and one must view you with fresh eyes.”
The Martial Artist Registry wasn’t something just anyone was qualified to see, but the Jiang family clearly wasn’t among the “unqualified.” A newly advanced martial artist might not warrant special attention, but she also wouldn’t address her ex-husband with the same old tone and attitude. “So during the years we were married, you were quietly practicing martial arts the whole time?”
Qin Jingzhou smiled without answering.
Strictly speaking, although the original owner had married Miss Jiang, he’d never had much standing. From the beginning, he hadn’t even been qualified to live in the Jiang family’s ancestral residence, and Miss Jiang remained as romantic as ever after marriage. The couple didn’t spend much time together.
Despite being married for over a decade and having a son, it wouldn’t be wrong at all to say Miss Jiang and the original owner weren’t very familiar with each other.
Miss Jiang took Qin Jingzhou’s reaction as tacit confirmation. “Forget it. Congratulations on the dragon leaving the sea.”
Qin Jingzhou smiled faintly. “The car accident was man-made?”
Miss Jiang nodded slightly.
Jiang Bowu, who hadn’t said a word, covered his forehead.
Qin Jingzhou put an arm around his son’s shoulders. “Weng Zhenghe has the guts to scheme against people, but murder… at least not yet. And it’s not like you can’t have more children. You traced it back to Jiang Ruitong?”
Martial artists were all smart people—anyone stupid couldn’t even comprehend the inherited manuals.
Miss Jiang believed that her ex-husband had endured until obtaining his Martial Artist Certificate. She wasn’t surprised at his sharpness now. “He’s willing to spit out some shares. I’ll transfer that portion to Bowu.”
Jiang Bowu’s heart went completely cold… Jiang Ruitong actually wanted him dead!
But he only let out a light laugh and turned to his father. “Dad, see them out.”
Qin Jingzhou naturally gave his son face and pointed toward the door. “Miss Jiang, please.”
Miss Jiang could only sigh softly. “Very well.” She looked at Jiang Bowu again. “You can contact Mom anytime.”
She came in a hurry and left just as quickly.
As soon as the door closed, Jiang Bowu grabbed Qin Jingzhou’s sleeve once more, his eyes completely red. “She… she just sold me off like that…”
Qin Jingzhou pulled him into an embrace. “Coming to inherit the family business?”
Jiang Bowu let out a barely audible “Mm.”
…
Almost at the same time, in a hundred-story Jiang Corporation building in Haishi, in an office overlooking the entire CBD, Jiang Ruitong received a message from his aunt: Handled. But I want 2%. He smashed his phone on the spot.
Hearing the noise, his girlfriend and assistant, Xiao Min, pushed open the office door. Jiang Ruitong grabbed a cup from the desk and hurled it at her. He missed, but the tea inside splashed all over her.
Seeing this, Jiang Ruitong rushed to her, raised his hand, and slapped himself hard. “Minmin, are you okay? I—” He turned back, grabbed some tissues, and with trembling hands wiped the tea off her clothes. “I’m sorry, I… I lost control again…”
Xiao Min took a deep breath and hugged Jiang Ruitong, whose face was deathly pale, one cheek already swollen. “Promise me—we’ll go see a psychologist, okay?”
Jiang Ruitong shook his head. “No. I can take medication… If someone gets hold of this as leverage, I’ll never inherit the Jiang family. I won’t be able to fulfill Mom’s wish.”
Xiao Min closed her eyes. “Then wait until you’ve secured the inheritance.”
Jiang Ruitong responded softly, “Okay.” He hugged his girlfriend, the corner of his lips lifting ever so slightly.
Join the discussion
Log in to comment.