Chapter 4 This Might Be Hereditary

Chapter 4: Must Be Genetic

Jiang Ruotang leaned against Sister Juan’s shoulder as they walked downstairs, saying, "Let’s go have dinner. Tomorrow, I’ll ask Ms. He to help clean this room—dust and clean the windows."

This room, he was saving it for Zhao Changfeng.

In his previous life, his "treasures" had occupied the room with the best sunlight. After Jiang Huaiyuan and Zhao Yunshu got married, Zhao Changfeng had to stay in a guest bedroom on the first floor, where a tree outside the window blocked the sunlight.

Once, when Zhao Changfeng passed by the "junk room" on the second floor, he muttered, "These worthless trinkets get better living conditions than people do." Jiang Ruotang overheard it, and the two nearly came to blows—fortunately, Jiang Huaiyuan and Zhao Yunshu pulled them apart. After all, Jiang Ruotang couldn't beat Zhao Changfeng in a million years. Despite his large, round eyes that had the innocent look of a Pokémon, Zhao Changfeng was nearly 1.9 meters tall—just one outstretched arm could pin Jiang Ruotang against the wall.

In Jiang Ruotang’s mind, Zhao Changfeng was just a freeloading hanger-on. On top of that, he always made snide remarks about Jiang Ruotang’s best friend, Lin Lu, so Jiang Ruotang never truly considered him family.

Yet, it was this very person he looked down on who, in his previous life, worked nights as a ride-share driver to cover Jiang Ruotang’s medical bills.

It was then that Jiang Ruotang realized blood ties weren’t the only measure of closeness—there was also the human heart.

That was his real brother.

He had once bent over backwards to secure resources for Bai Yingchuan, but as his life neared its end, one of Jiang Ruotang’s biggest regrets was not properly planning a future for Zhao Changfeng.

After dinner, Jiang Ruotang made himself some coffee.

It was time to hustle again. He spread out his worksheet—this was like a total disaster zone.

So many tasks, yet Jiang Ruotang had no idea where to start.

In his previous life, Jiang Ruotang had taken the art student route, aiming for an art academy where academic requirements weren’t as strict. Though his grades had been above average from middle school to the first year of high school, by the second year, when the subjects became more challenging, he had somewhat given up on himself.

Not to mention, the current Jiang Ruotang’s mind was from ten years later—all that knowledge had long gone to the wind. Even if he stayed awake for seventy-two hours straight, he couldn’t build a towering skyscraper from scratch!

Jiang Ruotang took a deep breath. Being alive was victory enough—how could a living person be driven to death by a practice worksheet?

With the mindset of a dead pig unafraid of boiling water, he glanced at the first math problem.

Huh, he actually understood it—it was a sequence problem, and the answer should be B!

The second question was a function question—seemed like C was the right choice!

About half an hour later, Jiang Ruotang worked through the problems while looking up stuff in the textbook for reference. Surprisingly, he managed to solve most of them. Though there were still some he couldn’t figure out no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help but marvel, "After being reborn, my brain actually developed!"

Gradually, Jiang Ruotang realized… it was because he had been so bored in the hospital that he watched endlessly Lu Guifan’s lecture videos.

Lu Guifan’s research institute had teaching duties, and he occasionally filled in as a math professor at the university. His elegant, intellectual demeanor made him a student favorite, and many of his lectures were available online. Whenever Jiang Ruotang missed seeing him, he would rewatch those videos over and over.

Though Lu Guifan’s expression during lectures was expressionless as a robot, his explanations were so clear and intuitive that they perfectly suited Jiang Ruotang’s way of thinking, subtly embedding the knowledge into his mind.

Jiang Ruotang tapped his head—indeed, "interest" was the best teacher.

But even "interest" had its limits. The further he went into the multiple-choice questions, the more clueless he became. By the time he reached the long-answer problems, he recognized every word, but the question as a whole might as well have been in another language.

His phone vibrated on the desk. Jiang Ruotang picked it up—it was a message from Lin Lu:

[Ruo Tang, have you finished your summer homework? Do you want to borrow mine?]

"Reference," of course, meant "copy mine."

That was Lin Lu for you—ever the diplomat, always giving others face.

Unlike Jiang Ruotang, Lin Lu had always been driven, aiming to at least get into a 211 university (a tier of prestigious universities in China) before studying abroad. His family had hired tutors for him, and his summer homework was completed under their guidance, ensuring high accuracy. In his previous life, Jiang Ruotang had thought Lin Lu was amazing, a real MVP in his time of need. Logically, not finishing the homework wasn’t a big deal—after all, Jiang Ruotang was aiming for an art academy… Wait, where did that thought come from?

Jiang Ruotang lowered his eyes and replied unhurriedly: "But copying your homework won’t help me actually learn how to solve these problems."

Lin Lu’s reply came quickly: "You’re set for art school anyway. Teacher Song’s just nitpicking, singling you out like this."

Jiang Ruotang looked at the message, his lips curling slightly. "Wow, what a *great* friend."

In recent years, even average art schools required scores of nearly 400 on cultural subjects, while top-tier ones demanded at least 70% of the first-tier university cutoff.

Lin Lu’s buttering him up made Jiang Ruotang care less and less about his cultural studies. Keep this up, and he’d be screwed.

While Lin Lu was coasting into top-tier unis like 985 or 211, Jiang Ruotang was being molded into a fool—talk about a mismatch.

Jiang Ruotang wasn’t foolish enough to openly clash with Lin Lu now. Since you’ve already finished, might as well let me learn from it.

"Thanks. Have your driver bring it over? I’ll return it to you when school starts."

Lin Lu sent a few cheerful emojis before circling back to the main topic: "Your message this morning really freaked me out. How come you suddenly don’t like Bai Yingchuan anymore? Did something happen?"

Jiang Ruotang smiled faintly. "What, still trying to use Bai Yingchuan to control me? Try a different bait—I’m tired of this one."

"No reason. There are countless guys out there; if I see a hotter one, I’ll switch."

"There haven’t been any particularly popular dramas or movies lately. Come on, tell me! Who could possibly be hotter than Bai Yingchuan?"

At that moment, the image of a man in a black trench coat flashed through Jiang Ruotang’s mind—his face stern, yet his eyes warm and gentle.

He could almost still feel the warmth radiating from his back.

It had been snowing when Jiang Ruotang left. Lu Guifan had given him his coat—he wondered if he’d been cold.

"I’ve got a thing for brainy types now."

"Hahaha, I don’t believe you! You always said those so-called intellectuals were just tap water trying to pass as champagne."

"Huh? Did I really talk like that before?"

"Maybe I’m just too dumb and want to cram some brains into this head."

Lin Lu didn’t buy it at all, figuring Jiang Ruotang was just messing with him because the summer homework was giving him a headache.

Plus, Bai Yingchuan was transferring schools soon, so the young master Jiang had to keep up appearances.

But Lin Lu was efficient. Before Jiang Ruotang sank too deep in study hell, his family’s driver delivered the summer homework.

Jiang Ruotang copied hastily while skimming, leaving blanks for the parts he didn’t understand.

Around 11 p.m., Jiang Huaiyuan returned home, his upbeat stride betraying his cheerful mood.

Noticing the light seeping from Jiang Ruotang’s door, he knew he wasn't asleep, and knocked on his son’s door.

"Tang Tang, can Dad come in?"

"Yeah, come in." Jiang Ruotang frowned, wrestling with a long-form question.

The door opened, and Jiang Huaiyuan grinned like a kid. "Tang Tang, I took Yun Shu to Moonlit Pavilion—she adored the moonlit lotus pond! How’d *you* know about it before me?"

Jiang Ruotang side-eyed his dad.

"I know way more than that."

Jiang Huaiyuan had just turned forty-five this year, with no bald spots or beer belly. Though not much of a fitness enthusiast, he played golf and went fishing occasionally. Pale and bookish-looking, especially with his large eyes, long lashes, and with downright Bambi-like eyes.

On set, Jiang Huaiyuan was authoritative and in control, but his authority evaporated the moment he left set.

Perhaps because Jiang Huaiyuan grew up on film sets with his grandfather, he picked up most of his grandfather's directorial decisiveness. But the inherent softness in his bones couldn't be changed. Stripped of the armor of his director identity, he never learned his grandmother's finesse in handling interpersonal relationships. Too sentimental, he was easily manipulated by supposed brothers like Lin Chengdong.

Fortunately, the old connections from his grandfather's era still held up. At the company, Jiang Huaiyuan played the role of a respectful but inept successor, while other senior figures kept Lin Chengdong's ambitions in check, just managing to hold on all these years.

Jiang Ruotang mentally teased his father—not bad for an old man - try not to ruin it.

"Then how did you know she likes blockbuster effects? I thought she preferred art films or something."

"Zhao Zhangfeng mentioned it once."

"...Was my knit sweater really that bad?" Jiang Huaiyuan asked.

"Made you look like a party cadre from the 80s. Wearing it on set might intimidate people, but on a date? Trying to put her in your subordinate file?"

"Oh."

Perhaps because father and son rarely chatted like this, Jiang Huaiyuan lingered instead of leaving.

"What if I take Yun Shu fishing at Enxi Reservoir next time? The scenery there is nice..."

Jiang Ruotang felt a vein pulse in his temple. Was his oblivious father blind to the fact that he was trying to study? Shouldn’t he be exclaiming, "Thank heavens my son is actually studying," and then promptly exit?

"Dad, Enxi’s scenery is great, but while you’re fishing, what’s Auntie Zhao supposed to do? Sip on lake breeze or catch z's on a lawn chair?"

"Then... give me some advice! You've had good ideas today..."

Jiang Ruotang tapped his temple with the pen. He remembered that Zhao Yunshu was a pragmatic person, and handling accounts for multiple companies must be exhausting. "First, you can accompany Auntie Zhao to your usual custom shoe shop for a pair of soft leather shoes. She's always traveling for work, and stiff shoes hurt her heels."

"Right, she mentioned her feet hurt the other day."

If he weren’t his own father, Jiang Ruotang would’ve grabbed him by the collar and shaken him.

She came right out and told you her shoes hurt, and you didn’t act on it?

With the solution gift-wrapped for you, you still can’t copy it onto the paper? That's my dad, alright!

If his past life self was all ocean between the ears, Jiang Huaiyuan wasn’t far behind—must run in the family.