Chapter 21: I Wish My Father Could Soar Like a Dragon, Part 6

In this way, Qin Ye’s purpose was achieved.

He had intended for Yang Xiufen to undergo an examination from the start. If he had asked directly—despite his own example preceding hers—Yang Xiufen would certainly have refused. So he had to conceal his intent, let her muddle through the checkup without realizing it. Qin Ye was adept at such maneuvers.

Xiao San was puzzled: “How do you seem so skilled at this?”

Otherwise, why do you think I became team leader the moment I entered?

Xiao San: …

Isn’t it because the department head is your mentor’s uncle?

If Qin Ye knew that Xiao San suspected him of getting the position by pulling strings, he would surely argue with Xiao San for three days and nights without pause. Fortunately, Xiao San didn’t say it out loud, and Qin Ye had no idea what rebellious thoughts flashed through its core data, so nothing happened between them.

Yang Xiufen, who had rarely visited hospitals over the years and knew nothing of their workings, simply accepted whatever Qin Ye told her. Thus, after a series of examinations, Yang Xiufen was left somewhat confused.

“Is it done?”

“It’s done.”

Qin Ye smiled, listening to the doctor’s stream of professional jargon, occasionally interjecting with a question or two. Yang Xiufen stood by, unable to comprehend a single word. And whatever she heard she promptly forgot, so by the end, nothing remained in her memory.

She had no choice but to ask Qin Ye, “What did the doctor say?”

“Oh, you need to rest. But, Xiuer, your health is just like mine—no more heavy work. You’ll need to take good care of yourself and take medication.”

“Medication? I’m fine—why do I need medicine?”

Yang Xiufen hesitated, then asked, “Is the medicine expensive?”

“Not at all. I have connections through the old man, so we get everything at factory price—very cheap.”

Qin Ye was making it all up, but Yang Xiufen didn’t know that. Since he said so, she believed it.

So, when they left, they carried bags full of medicine—mostly Chinese herbal remedies.

Yang Xiufen brought her bankbook, intending to withdraw money, but never found the opportunity. She hardly needed to pay; all she saw was Qin Ye taking out his phone and going inside.

It wasn’t that mobile payments had become common; Qin Ye had simply arranged for someone to come early and take a number, with payment handled by another person. If he paid in front of Yang Xiufen, she would never agree to buy so much medicine, most of which was meant for her.

At the moment, Qin Ye had only one hundred thousand yuan on hand; the rest was invested in stocks.

There was no business more lucrative than stock trading, unless Qin Ye intended to break the law. But that wasn’t his plan, so trading stocks became the best way for him to get rich quickly.

Of course, for ordinary people, it’s best to avoid it. Even if you get rich overnight, it’s far more likely you’ll end up on the rooftop before dawn.

Qin Ye, however, had the best assistant, Xiao San—in other words, he was “cheating,” so he had no worries.

Besides, even without Xiao San’s help, without any “cheats,” he possessed all the experience from his previous world’s client.

Qin Zhan was distracted all day.

He had grown up without a father. One day, his father—long thought lost and dead—returned. And it was as if all the misfortune of his life had been exhausted in the first half, now fortune was turning in his favor.

In other words, Qin Zhan, more mature and clear-eyed about society’s harsh realities than his classmates, seemed suddenly freed from the burdens he had borne.

Unlike other students who went to evening study, Qin Zhan worked part-time at a barbecue restaurant, one reason being to prepare for college.

Another reason was that his living expenses were often insufficient.

But now, it seemed he no longer needed to worry about these problems that shouldn’t have been his concern to begin with.

Qin Zhan’s relationships with his classmates were ordinary; they knew of him, but little more. Among them, only Huang Mingyuan spoke with him.

Other classmates either found Qin Zhan aloof and difficult to approach, or simply weren’t familiar with him.

Huang Mingyuan, able to converse with anyone, was the most popular student in class—and Qin Zhan’s desk mate.

Noticing Qin Zhan’s distraction during major subjects, Huang Mingyuan promptly expressed concern.

“Qin, what’s wrong?”

Qin Zhan, who disliked being called “Qin,” shook himself out of his daze and replied, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine—anyone can see something’s up. Tell me, maybe I can help.”

Huang Mingyuan was sincere.

He truly felt his desk mate had it tough. For most their age, the only pressure was schoolwork. But Qin Zhan faced not only studies, but the harshness of the real world.

Unlike them, who had parents to shield them—no storm could touch them.

Whenever classmates organized activities, they rarely invited Qin Zhan, knowing he wouldn’t join.

Only Huang Mingyuan always invited him, even though Qin Zhan never attended.

“Really, it’s nothing.”

Despite Huang Mingyuan’s sincerity, Qin Zhan didn’t take his words to heart.

They were all students—no matter how sincere, what could Huang Mingyuan really do to help?

“All right, but if something happens, don’t carry it alone. We classmates and teachers can help. It’s better than facing it all by yourself.”

“Mm.”

Qin Zhan murmured agreement, and returned to his reverie.

After a while, he spoke suddenly:

“If, one day, your father suddenly appeared and said he’d had incredible luck, saving a billionaire—who, out of gratitude, not only gave him money but took him everywhere. Suddenly your dad went from struggling at the bottom to a gentleman of high society—what would you do?”

Huang Mingyuan blinked. “Is that even possible?”

“Is it a good thing?”

“Isn’t it a good thing? Qin, you know, I dream that I’m actually a rich kid, but my dad pretends we’re poor to toughen me up, then will reveal the truth when I come of age.”

Huang Mingyuan’s family owned a supermarket, comfortable but not wealthy.

Still, his family was better off than Qin Zhan’s. Two parents, one child, grandparents with pensions—a modest but secure life.

Mentioning his daydreams, Huang Mingyuan’s expression softened.

Qin Zhan felt his question was pointless and shook his head, focusing on his workbook.

Distracted and unable to concentrate, what do you do? No worries—just tackle a set of “Five Years of College Entrance Exams, Three Years of Simulation,” and all troubles will fade.

When Qin Zhan finished the set, it was time for dismissal.

Boarding students could not leave without teacher approval; after school, they took their bowls to the cafeteria, ate, played outside, and went to evening study.

Day students, except for special cases like Qin Zhan, usually went home for dinner and returned for evening study.

After evening study, some parents came to pick up their children.

Huang Mingyuan’s mother usually picked him up; sometimes his father did.

Concerned that Qin Zhan was keeping something bottled up, Huang Mingyuan followed him out of school at dismissal.

Outside, Qin Zhan stopped.

“What’s wrong, Qin?”

“Don’t call me Qin.”

“If I call you ‘Little Qin,’ you might hit me.”

Qin Zhan fell silent, unwilling to chat.

Huang Mingyuan didn’t leave, standing by his side.

After a while, Huang Mingyuan’s eyes lit up as he spotted someone he recognized. He glanced at Qin Zhan, his expression carrying a hint of brotherly understanding.

Before Qin Zhan could decipher Huang Mingyuan’s teasing look, he heard a familiar soft, girlish voice.

“Qin Zhan, why are you just standing here?”

It was Ruan Jiaojiao.

Many classmates knew Qin Zhan and Ruan Jiaojiao were acquainted, but few knew they’d known each other since childhood.

“Waiting.”

Qin Zhan’s expression softened when facing Ruan Jiaojiao.

“Waiting? For whom? You’re not dating, are you?”

“No.”

As they spoke, the person who’d promised to pick up Qin Zhan after school—Qin Ye—arrived.

Qin Ye’s body was battered and frail; though alive after Qin Ye took over, his hair had turned gray, making him look like an old man at first glance.

Now, he’d dyed his hair black, so he no longer resembled an elderly man at first sight—at least, he looked like a middle-aged uncle.

His features were nothing remarkable, with heavy bags under his eyes, hardly attractive; but when he spoke, his deep, pleasant voice, paired with his presence, lent him an unexpected air of charm.

Boys might not notice, but girls like Ruan Jiaojiao were clearly affected.

“I’ve come to pick you up.”

Qin Ye suppressed the urge to use the affectionate nickname “Tuan Tuan”—knowing that for a boy, such a name would invite ridicule.

As a competent father, how could he overlook that?

Qin Zhan acknowledged him, then turned to bid Huang Mingyuan goodbye before leaving with Qin Ye.

Among his classmates, Huang Mingyuan understood Qin Zhan’s home situation best—apart from the teacher.

The teacher had never told the class that Qin Zhan lacked a father, was from a single-parent family, and poor, hoping they’d help him more.

For a teenager whose pride was fierce, even well-intentioned words could cause invisible harm.

So the teacher simply did what she could for Qin Zhan, without broadcasting his hardships.

Huang Mingyuan knew because he had overheard a conversation between the teacher and Qin Zhan.

To everyone else, Qin Zhan claimed his father was dead.