Kidnapped

Jiang Qiao looked at Fu Zhilan's watery eyes and patted his delicate cheek. "Baby, don't keep hanging around your brother for no reason. Your brother finds you annoying. Be good."

Over the next few days, Jiang Qiao never returned to the dormitory. On one hand, he could not be bothered to deal with Fu Zhilan. On the other hand...

People really were shameless.

Jiang Qiao had grown accustomed to life at the fighting ring. Back when he had been a slave, he had always wanted to escape. Now that he was a young master, he was actually quite willing to stay at the ring.

"You little bastard, I sent you to school, yet here you are, standing around this place every day." Jiang Zhenhai jabbed Jiang Qiao with his cane.

His wife had passed away early. He only had one daughter and Jiang Qiao, his adopted son, whom he had raised as his own.

Jiang Qiao lounged against the sofa lazily. "Before you die, I need to get all your men under control."

Delighted, Jiang Zhenhai picked up the whiskey Jiang Qiao had left on the table and was about to pour it down his throat. "What? You want me dead sooner so you can divide the inheritance?"

Jiang Qiao poured him a cup of tea, setting it down before him with a bang as he snatched away the glass.

"I don't care about that. Hurry up and make your will clear. I only want an apartment. Give everything else to my sister."

"You good-for-nothing brat! Is it really that hard for you to inherit such a huge fortune?!"

"With that brain of your sister's, you want to give it to her? Within three years, some man will swindle her out of every last cent!" Jiang Zhenhai's head hurt whenever Jiang Ci was mentioned.

His daughter was good in every way. She was kind-hearted, beautiful, and sweet-looking—except she was hopelessly lovestruck and always getting deceived by men.

Just last week, he had written a will leaving the company shares and the fighting ring to Jiang Qiao, while only leaving Jiang Ci some money, houses, and cars.

Unfortunately, before it could be notarized, Jiang Qiao discovered it.

Jiang Qiao tore up the will on the spot and told Jiang Zhenhai not to set his sights on him. He had no intention of inheriting Jiang Zhenhai's estate.

"I don't want it. I have my own plans," Jiang Qiao said.

"What plans do you have?" Jiang Zhenhai asked.

"I'm joining the Shi family," Jiang Qiao said.

Jiang Zhenhai pondered for a moment. "Which Shi family?"

Jiang Qiao looked at him. "What other Shi family could there be?"

At that, Jiang Zhenhai swung his cane and lashed Jiang Qiao.

"Old Master Shi's daughter is nearly forty! Her three ex-husbands are all dead, and you still dare to hit on her?!"

Jiang Qiao jumped up from the blow. "I'm into Shi Junyi!"

Jiang Zhenhai swung his cane and hit him again. "You little bastard! Who are you calling old man?!"

The fighting ring had not yet opened for the night, but the staff had long grown used to the father-and-son chaos between them.

That was how the original owner had gotten along with Jiang Zhenhai in the novel.

Aside from becoming brain-dead whenever Fu Zhilan was involved, his personality was otherwise fairly similar to Jiang Qiao's own.

Jiang Zhenhai normally would not come to the fighting ring, but he had an honored guest to receive today.

Jiang Qiao did not care about that. Every night after the matches began these past few days, he had picked one or two fighters he liked and stepped into the ring to stretch his limbs.

Today was no exception.

He had his eye on a newly arrived Russian. The man was at least six foot three, his muscles knotted and bulging, and he looked like a polar bear.

The Russian looked Jiang Qiao up and down. Jiang Qiao was well-proportioned but two sizes smaller than him. The Russian sneered disdainfully and crooked a finger at Jiang Qiao.

Jiang Qiao gave a cold laugh. Without another word, he drove an uppercut into the Russian's jaw.

The Russian rolled his neck twice, then grabbed Jiang Qiao around the waist and lifted him up.

He was less agile than Jiang Qiao, but he held the advantage in strength. Bracing Jiang Qiao's chest against his shoulder, he tried to slam him into the ground.

Jiang Qiao arched his back. The instant he landed, he raised both legs and clamped them around the Russian's neck, flipped over to pin him down, and hammered his face mercilessly.

The Russian was seeing stars from the blows. He had not expected Jiang Qiao, who did not look especially muscular, to possess such formidable strength.

He raised a hand to grip Jiang Qiao's throat, seized the chance to rise to his feet, and punched Jiang Qiao in the abdomen.

Jiang Qiao deflected most of the force with a clever technique, then spun and launched a flying roundhouse kick. It cut through the air and smashed into the Russian's cheek.

The Russian staggered back two steps, turned his head, and spat out two teeth.

The underground fighting ring was a place where people fought with their lives on the line. The fighters' ability to take a beating was beyond question.

Having lost two teeth, the Russian did not even need a moment to recover before he threw a side kick at Jiang Qiao.

Jiang Qiao did not dodge. He simply raised an arm to block it, and the sound of bone striking bone made everyone's scalp tingle.

The Russian's strength was truly staggering. Jiang Qiao's arm went numb from the impact, yet not a trace of fear showed on his face. Instead, he grew even more excited.

He hooked his arm around the Russian's, locking his calf firmly in place. With a twist of his waist, he swung that mountain of a man—at least one hundred and fifty kilograms—into the air and smashed him viciously onto the ground.

The VIP lounge on the second floor of the fighting ring.

An elderly man with graying hair, dressed in a traditional Chinese tunic suit, stood before the one-way glass. He watched Jiang Qiao's ruthless strikes and sharp, swift movements in the ring with undisguised appreciation.

He said to Jiang Zhenhai, "A young hero indeed. So young, yet so skilled."

Jiang Zhenhai smiled. "Mr. Shi, you flatter him. He's just a brat, impatient and hotheaded, with far too blunt a temperament."

Shi Xiao'an asked, "Is he still in school?"

"He'll be starting his internship soon," Jiang Zhenhai said.

Shi Xiao'an nodded and said nothing more.

Thinking of what Jiang Qiao had told him an hour earlier, Jiang Zhenhai tentatively said, "Mr. Shi, I have an impertinent request..."

Shi Xiao'an looked quite easygoing. Without considering his status, he was no different from the old men sitting in recliners and basking in the sun along the streets.

He took a sip of tea and gave Jiang Zhenhai a look, signaling for him to continue.

"Could you let Xiao Qiao stay by the young master's side and find some job for him to do?"

Jiang Zhenhai sighed. "I spoiled this child too much. He fears neither heaven nor earth. I don't expect him to learn even a tenth of what the young master knows. As long as it can temper that temperament of his, I'll be thanking heaven and earth."

Jiang Qiao spent nearly half a month hanging around the fighting ring. While the fighters under his family's command complained bitterly, all of them improved to some extent.

He had not expected Shi Junyi to personally come looking for him after that night, but he had not expected Shi Junyi to seemingly cast him completely out of mind either.

Shi Junyi had not even sent anyone to warn him not to tell others what had happened that day.

His personal academic adviser did call to warn Jiang Qiao, saying that if he did not start submitting his assignments on time, he would likely be unable to graduate successfully.

Jiang Qiao took the call right in front of Jiang Zhenhai. The moment he hung up, Jiang Zhenhai drove him out of the house with several swings of his cane.

Forced into the library, Jiang Qiao spent an entire day typing out his assignments word by word on a computer before sending them to his teacher's email.

It was already past ten at night when he left the school.

He casually ate a bowl of noodles by the roadside. As soon as he turned into an alley to head home, someone slipped a sack over his head from behind.

Jiang Qiao grabbed the wrist of the person behind him and was about to fight back when a soft click sounded beside his ear.

Jiang Qiao stopped moving.

Judging by the sounds, there were three people. One held the sack over his head, while another tied his hands behind his back with rope.

The third person pressed a freshly chambered gun against his temple.

Jiang Qiao was forced into a car. His vision was completely black, and the vehicle drove smoothly enough that he could not determine where he was.

He tentatively spoke. "You..."

Before he could finish, the gun jabbed his temple again.

Jiang Qiao cursed under his breath, leaned back against the seat, and gave up struggling.

Once I find out who kidnapped me and had someone point a gun at me, I'll make that bastard regret ever being born.

If I don't twist off his head and kick it around like a ball, then my surname isn't Jiang.

An hour later, Jiang Qiao's hood was removed. He looked at Shi Junyi, who sat on a pure white leather sofa with a financial report in one hand and a glass of red wine in the other.

Changing my name to Shi Qiao doesn't sound so bad either.

He withdrew the foot he had been about to use to kick the person beside him who had removed his hood, then sat obediently on the stool.

He said to Shi Junyi, "Brother, my hands hurt."