Chapter 24 — TVF Chapter 24

The Unlucky One in a Crematorium-Style Story (5) The medicinal soup Qin Jingzhou personally brewed had a truly moving flavor…

Jiang Bowu gulped down an entire bowl in one go, then hugged the trash can and dry-heaved for a full five minutes.

Five minutes later, the medicine kicked in. Jiang Bowu’s spirits lifted sharply—he felt as if he had completely shaken off the shadow-like pain that had clung to him these past few days.

The moment he’d seen the Martial Artist Certificate, he already knew his dad’s talk of “inheriting the family business” wasn’t a joke. After personally experiencing his dad’s medicinal soup—this level of pain relief, if patented and commercialized step by step, could easily support the two of them for the rest of their lives without lifting a finger!

Compared to this prescription, even the money he could earn at Jiang Corporation plus whatever his biological mother might give him might not amount to more.

Father and son…

Jiang Bowu suddenly snapped back to reality. Just now, when facing his mother, he’d called him “Dad” out loud. It was like crossing some inner threshold—he’d started thinking about things from a father-and-son perspective.

Of course he knew what that meant.

Even if his mouth refused to admit it, in his heart, he had already chosen his father.

Once Jiang Bowu made up his mind, he stopped agonizing over it.

He photographed his injured leg and medical records, sent them to his academic advisor, and applied for a week of sick leave. It was already May; his thesis was finished anyway. He just needed to return on time for the defense.

Putting down his phone, Jiang Bowu looked at his father—who was watching a game livestream while processing medicinal ingredients—and after gathering his courage, asked, “You… really want me to inherit the family business?”

Qin Jingzhou didn’t even lift his eyelids. “Mm.”

“What if you remarry… then what?”

Qin Jingzhou turned his head to look at his foolish son. “Even if I have seventy or eighty more kids, you’d still be the heir I chose.”

Jiang Bowu let out an “Oh,” and fell silent.

After staying quiet for a long while, the system finally spoke up: “Lack of love, low self-esteem, hesitation—these will all dilute the joy you bring him by favoring him. He’s different from that troublesome daughter in the last world. He overthinks everything and loves to fill in the blanks. If you don’t pay more attention to his feelings, just the stimulation from the Jiang family alone will be enough to push him into blackening.” Qin Jingzhou replied casually, “Sounds like he’s too idle. I’ll find him something to do.” Despite the worries on his mind, under the effects of the medicinal soup, Jiang Bowu slept deeply. When he woke up, it was already 8:30 the next morning.

He had just sat up when his phone rang. He glanced down.

Mr. Shangguan: Come out to eat. Jiang Bowu silently changed the contact name to Dad, then grabbed his crutches and headed straight for the bathroom.

After a night, his injured leg only ached faintly—negligible. While marveling at how awesome his family’s ancestral inheritance was, he was startled by his reflection in the mirror.

His dark circles were way lighter!

After washing up, he walked out of the room. His dad was eating fried dough sticks. Qin Jingzhou glanced at him from the dining table. “Eat, drink the medicine, then we’re going to the martial arts hall.”

Jiang Bowu sat across from him. “Mm.”

At 9:30, Jiang Bowu followed his dad to the Suiyuan Martial Arts Hall. Looking at the completely empty lobby, he thought: …That’s it?

Qin Jingzhou pretended not to notice and assigned tasks to his bargain son. “I’ll give you the formula for the pain-relief soup. You handle the operations. The martial arts hall is also yours to arrange. Training under me costs two hundred thousand a month. If your talent is good enough, we can give a discount.”

Two hundred thousand a month was standard tuition for the tier just below top-level martial artists.

With his dad so confident, Jiang Bowu didn’t say anything—he just lowered his head and noted it down in his phone.

Qin Jingzhou waited a bit. After watching his son stare thoughtfully at his phone for a long time, he asked, “Thinking about a girl you like? I don’t mean that overly affected internet celebrity.”

Jiang Bowu’s face flushed. “Ah… you heard about that too…?”

“That influencer looks so much like Jiang Ruitong’s girlfriend Xiao Min. I’m not blind. You didn’t want to steal someone else’s love, so you found a lookalike instead. Did you really think Jiang Ruitong would accept your ‘good intentions’?”

Jiang Bowu covered his forehead. “Even without that, Jiang Ruitong already hated me. Mom and my eldest uncle have been openly and secretly fighting in the group for years. I’m Mom’s oldest legitimate son—of course she wants to shove me into the company. Yesterday’s car accident was a warning. Mom clearly traced some clues but chose an exchange—a trade of interests. Jiang Ruitong had to cough up shares to settle it, and with his personality, there’s no way he’ll let me off easily. He’s ruthless—years ago he crippled his legitimate half-brother… so… I’ve got quite a lot of trouble on me.”

Qin Jingzhou laughed, tea cup in hand. “You’re afraid of dragging me down? Or afraid that if I run into trouble I can’t solve, I’ll abandon you?”

Jiang Bowu said nothing.

Qin Jingzhou continued smiling. “Before, I kept my head down because I had no strength. When you have no power, your words aren’t worth a fart. Now that I finally have some confidence, I won’t say I’ll never sell you out like your mom did—but if I sell my son, Jiang Ruitong can’t afford the price.”

Jiang Bowu lowered his head and softly said, “Oh.” Then, subconsciously, he tugged on his dad’s sleeve again.

Qin Jingzhou took a light sip of tea.

After calming down, Jiang Bowu opened his laptop and roughly drafted a plan.

Just as he was about to show it to his dad, an uninvited guest arrived at the martial arts hall.

Whenever a newly registered martial artist appeared, fellow practitioners would often visit under the pretense of friendly sparring, explaining the rules of the circle and introducing various schools and top experts.

But the middle-aged man standing at the door—his face full of brute flesh and murderous aura—didn’t look like someone here for friendly exchanges.

Qin Jingzhou stood up and rubbed his son’s worry-filled face. “Jiang Ruitong’s reaction is pretty fast.”

Yesterday’s car accident, with Miss Jiang and Jiang Ruitong likely having reached an agreement, meant the evidence pointing to Jiang Ruitong had been cleaned up—well within his expectations.

To be honest, the reason he chose to register as a martial artist rather than moonlight as a mysticism master was precisely to draw more hatred—so Jiang Ruitong would make more mistakes, giving him more chances to collect solid evidence.

Hopefully, this guy wasn’t too stubborn.

Dressed in a fitted white shirt, slacks, and casual shoes, Qin Jingzhou walked up to the fellow practitioner. Hearing the man mutter “Sorry,” Qin Jingzhou suddenly found a fist filling his vision.

Qin Jingzhou drove a knee up, then kicked him in the stomach. “Where’s your martial ethics?” Before the words even fell, the other man was sent flying sideways, his head lolling as he passed out.

Jiang Bowu: …

He forgot his left leg was broken and jumped to his feet—Is he too weak, or is my dad too strong?! The two people who’d come with the middle-aged man panicked—one was an assistant, the other looked like a disciple.

Qin Jingzhou didn’t make things hard for them. “He’s just unconscious. No serious harm. Go back and tell me who hired him. Otherwise, I’ll drop by your martial arts hall every few days to smash the place.”

The tall, burly disciple hurriedly agreed, hoisted his master onto his shoulder, and fled with the skinny assistant.

Qin Jingzhou watched them leave, then turned to the excited onlookers gathered outside the hall. “Disperse.”

Leaning on his crutches, Jiang Bowu called out, “If you’re interested in learning martial arts, feel free to come back and check out our enrollment brochure!” The crowd was quickly scared off by the two-hundred-thousand-per-month tuition.

Qin Jingzhou glanced back at his bargain son and smiled. He’d gotten into character really fast.

After the onlookers left, Jiang Bowu limped forward and asked in a low voice, “Dad, why did you open a martial arts hall here?”

Qin Jingzhou answered solemnly, “Cultivation emphasizes cultivating the heart. Cultivating the heart requires entering the world.”

Jiang Bowu thought about it and agreed. “It really does have that ‘great hermit hidden in the city’ vibe.”

Qin Jingzhou patted his son’s shoulder. “That’s the secondary reason. The most important reason is that it’s close to home. Just downstairs.”

Jiang Bowu: …

That afternoon, Qin Jingzhou indeed received a large pile of photos and videos—the martial artist he’d knocked out, now completely convinced, had sent over who contacted him, who hired him, what demands were made, and even account information.

Qin Jingzhou casually forwarded everything to his bargain son.

After carefully reviewing it, Jiang Bowu pointed at one account name. “I remember this guy. He’s the white glove for Jiang Ruitong’s half-brother.” Since his parents had been divorced for years, he explained proactively, “After Jiang Ruitong took down his legitimate half-brother, he gathered several illegitimate younger brothers and made them his… lackeys.”

Qin Jingzhou nodded. “Save it. It’ll be useful one day.”

That evening, Quan Ruilan suddenly sent a message: Several of my buddies have been asking me—openly and secretly—about you, Uncle Shangguan. Be careful! It would’ve been too stupid for Jiang Ruitong to directly interrogate Quan Ruilan. With his wealth and connections, it was easy enough to get a few rich kids to ask around.

Qin Jingzhou showed the message to his son as well. “Promising. Taking the initiative to be a mole.”

“That guy’s sharp.” Jiang Bowu wasn’t surprised. “He and Jiang Ruitong have always been polite on the surface but hostile underneath.”

The original owner hadn’t known much about either his adopted son or biological son. Qin Jingzhou shook his head. “I didn’t know any of this.”

“You were busy practicing martial arts—your time is precious. You didn’t need to care about such trivial details in the first place.” Jiang Bowu looked extremely serious.

He even filled in the blanks himself…

Qin Jingzhou noticed how much his bargain son liked talking to him. “Once your leg gets a bit better, I’ll teach you martial arts. But you can’t drop the day-to-day management of the hall.”

Jiang Bowu nodded. “Okay, Dad.”

The father and son enjoyed three peaceful days. During that time, nothing much happened on the Jiang family’s side, and the martial arts hall remained empty.

Neither Qin Jingzhou nor Jiang Bowu was anxious. Jiang Bowu had already organized all the documentation for their pain-relief soup, submitted the patent application, and was just waiting for the official reply on Monday. Patents related to martial artist inheritances had a special channel—usually a response came within three business days.

Once the patent was approved, their martial arts hall would likely be packed.

Jiang Bowu was feeling smug when his phone chimed. He looked down—and his face instantly changed. He tapped furiously, then turned to his dad. “I… have a friend who wants to stay for a while.”

Qin Jingzhou smiled. “Let her come.”

He didn’t even need to ask—he could already guess who it was.

Half an hour later, a young woman appeared outside the martial arts hall. Her forehead was plastered with an oversized bandage, one cheek so swollen that even foundation couldn’t hide it. She dragged a suitcase behind her and walked with a slight limp.

According to the novel’s plot, whenever the male lead Jiang Ruitong was displeased, he vented his pent-up anger—and the person he vented on most often was the female lead, Xiaomin.

Yet even in such a miserable state, the novel’s female lead still didn’t lose her stunning beauty.

Jiang Bowu abruptly stood up, grabbed his crutches, and hurried outside.

Right in front of Qin Jingzhou, the two young people embraced.

Watching the beautiful girl break down in sobs, Qin Jingzhou spoke with feeling. “You treated my son as a backup. My son couldn’t get you and found a substitute. Let’s call it even.” After a pause, he asked the system, “How long do you think before Jiang Ruitong shows up?” The system actually guessed: “An hour and a half?” But fifteen minutes later—before Xiaomin’s tears had even dried—Jiang Ruitong appeared at the martial arts hall entrance, bringing people with him, aggressive and imposing.

Jiang Bowu raised his head and locked eyes with Jiang Ruitong through the glass door.

Both of them carried killing intent in their gazes, and the bodyguards behind Jiang Ruitong were clearly men who’d seen blood.

Qin Jingzhou laughed in amusement. “So he doesn’t believe in fate and came to deliver himself personally?”