Chapter 15: I Hoped My Father Would Become a Dragon

Shen Lanzhou was the calamity in Ruan Jiaojiao’s life, the greatest tribulation she would ever face. Regrettably, Ruan Jiaojiao only understood this truth long after, and by the time she realized it, she had already plunged deep into the trial, nearly sacrificing everything.

Ruan Jiaojiao liked Shen Lanzhou at first sight, but Shen Lanzhou didn’t care for her. He sneered at her, unwilling even to spare her an extra glance; it was only because she shamelessly persisted, clinging to him without regard for her dignity, that she finally managed to appear by his side.

Time and again, Ruan Jiaojiao had never been someone who could persist for long, yet her affection for Shen Lanzhou lingered from that very first gaze until the last. She tried to give up on him, but found herself utterly incapable. Abandoning her love for Shen Lanzhou was like giving up breathing.

She believed her feelings would end without resolution, so when she received a confession from her childhood friend, she agreed. On the day she promised to be his girlfriend, Shen Lanzhou, upon hearing the news, became like a furious wolf, his icy ferocity bleeding through as he gripped her hand and growled, “You think you can provoke me and then run? What do you take me for?”

It turned out her love was never unrequited.

The content was brief, and from this summary, it seemed like a simple tale of budding romance. The protagonists were all students, a classic campus love story.

So, who was the target of his mission?

Qin Ye sensed a persistent obsession and suddenly understood.

The original Qin Ergou had grown up in poverty, and his family didn’t give him a decent name—just a common, derisive moniker from the village. Over time, that name became his identity.

As he grew older, he married a girl from the same village and soon had a son. After his son’s birth, he didn’t want the child to endure the same hardships he had. When someone from the village spoke of a place where one could earn big money, he scraped together ticket fare and followed them far from home.

That departure became permanent. The so-called lucrative destination was a lie; he was tricked into digging illegal mines in an unfamiliar land, working day after day like an ox.

He was underfed, poorly clothed, and beaten. He pretended to accept his fate, but secretly observed everything, waiting for a chance to escape.

He waited for over ten years.

Eventually, his opportunity came. He carefully ingratiated himself with the managers until they trusted him, which allowed him to survive the endless labor.

Later, when authorities cracked down, the mine owner, afraid of exposure, planned to silence everyone by causing a cave-in. He accidentally learned of this plot and deliberately ventured deep into the mine, only to escape through another entrance.

When the mine was indeed collapsed by explosives, the owner believed everyone had perished; the mine was sealed, and he seized his chance to flee.

His initial thought was to return home, to see how his wife and son were faring. But after more than ten years cut off from the outside world, penniless and ignorant—even without an ID card—he could only beg his way back. Upon arriving at his old village, he discovered it had grown into a small city.

He couldn’t find his home.

Still intent on finding his wife and son, he struggled to adapt to society, hoping to find work and earn money. He lacked all skills; survival depended on the charity of others.

He picked clothes from trash bins, washed them in a deserted riverside, and then sought work at construction sites.

His only asset was his physical strength.

By willingly accepting lower wages, he managed to find employment, but having no place to stay, he slept under a bridge. Only after receiving his first paycheck did he rent a cheap shared room.

He wouldn’t spend on food or clothing; even after earning, he could hardly bring himself to use the money. Yet, his body, worn out by years of toil, had already deteriorated. Doing hard labor with poor nutrition only worsened his health.

He dared not tell the foreman, fearing dismissal, and endured silently even when unwell.

Eventually, he collapsed in his rented room, blacking out from exhaustion.

Because he had no friends and never socialized, no one noticed when he fainted. The foreman assumed he’d quit; without a phone, he was unreachable. It was only when a foul smell emerged from his room and his roommate summoned the landlord, that his decomposing body was discovered.

Qin Ye’s arrival coincided with the moment the corpse was found.

But because of Qin Ye’s presence, the rotting, fetid body became alive again.

Qin Ye: …

Was this timing not deliberately meant to spite him?

[My conduct is always impartial—I would never take the opportunity to retaliate.] The third system spoke up, asserting its fairness.

It wasn’t like those shameless, cunning, despicable humans; it was a just and impartial system.

Fine. The client in this world was different from the previous one; here, the client was so insignificant in the main plot revolving around the male and female leads, he didn’t even qualify as cannon fodder.

The one with a role was his son.

Back then, his son was just two or three years old. To give his child a better life, he had left with villagers in pursuit of promised riches.

But he was deceived into mining illegally. Of his group, only he survived; those who came after him perished as well, leaving him the sole survivor.

After enduring, he finally escaped.

Luckily, the world had developed rapidly. What had once been remote wilderness, where the black mine lay, had become villages and towns. Had it remained a forest, he might never have escaped—falling prey to wild animals or succumbing to the elements.

This man died unable to let go of his son; his obsession rivaled any cannon fodder in the plot—perhaps even stronger.

Thus, Qin Ye arrived.

He mused that the “I’m Your Father” system should be renamed the “Wild Father System,” since the true father—the original—had perished.

He now occupied the body, but he wasn’t the real father, only a surrogate.

The third system: …

It responded with silence, resisting Qin Ye’s bold renaming attempt.

Qin Ye didn’t care about the system’s resistance; he decided from then on the full name would be Wild Father System.

After settling on the name, Qin Ye quickly realized he seemed to regain perception of the outside world, though his consciousness remained hazy and his body weak.

When he finally regained clarity, he was surprised to find the original’s roommate keeping vigil by his hospital bed.

“You’re finally awake, damn it! I thought I’d spend the rest of my life burdened by guilt. If I’d told the landlord the moment you didn’t come back, you wouldn’t have died. If you did die, I’d feel guilty forever!”

Zhou Taixian looked haggard, clearly having endured a difficult time.

This child—was his sense of morality a bit too high?

Qin Ye stared at him, bemused.

Zhou Taixian didn’t notice, instead turning to open a thermos beside him.

“I bought you chicken soup. I figured you’d never spend money on it yourself. Honestly, uncle, not to be blunt, but life is meant to be enjoyed. You keep slaving away, never eating or drinking properly—what’s the point?”

Qin Ye didn’t argue, instead responding with an affirmative nod.

Seeing him listen, Zhou Taixian became even more enthusiastic.

Qin Ye finished the chicken soup amidst his roommate’s ramblings.

During this period, Zhou Taixian brought over his laptop, though only to play games.

Zhou Taixian had graduated from a technical school and, upon realizing there were few options besides factory work, saw most of his classmates still carefree in university. Of his technical school peers, some left through family connections, others worked in factories.

Zhou Taixian had tried the factory, but disliked the monotonous assembly line work. After a stint, he quit.

He returned to his hometown, but constant scolding drove him to rent a place on his own.

Unable to afford high rent, he chose to share accommodation.

He reasoned that as a young man, unafraid of being taken advantage of, sharing was fine.

At this moment, the young man’s mouth was ringed with fine, bluish fuzz.

He was likely eighteen or nineteen.

Had he started school late, he might still be in his final year of high school.

Calculating, the original’s son—now Qin Ye’s son—would be in high school and entering his senior year that fall.

Children with both parents, even from modest families, would usually be sent to learn to drive during the summer before college, and then be equipped with a phone and computer for university.

But Qin Ye’s son was different. His father disappeared, presumed dead; only his mother refused to remarry, believing her husband merely missing and never deregistering him.

His mother, worn down by hardship, coughed endlessly, suffering but refusing to buy medicine.

The family had benefited from urban redevelopment, gaining an apartment in the city, but nothing more.

Qin Zhan—yes, that was the name. The original had paid a village scholar to choose it.

The original had attended less than half a year of school, barely literate, a true illiterate.

Qin Ye could obtain his wife’s phone number from the third system and contact the family, but he didn’t.

Qin Zhan, currently a second-year high school student, was a day student because every afternoon after school he worked at a barbecue shop to help ease the family’s financial burden.

If Qin Ye returned home in his current state and circumstances, he would only add to the already struggling household’s woes.

So, Qin Ye didn’t plan to go back yet; he intended to earn money first.