Chapter 66: Which is More Important, Luck or Talent?
The reason for Grandma’s fall was low blood sugar. Even though people in the same village weren’t necessarily related, they all knew each other. Someone immediately saw her and went to help, but after trying for a long time, they couldn’t get her up because she had no strength in her legs, so they brought her to the hospital.
“She has a slight thrombosis,” the doctor said, “but it’s not serious—the clot is well-formed, you know what I mean. If it were worse, she might have been paralyzed or unable to stand.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “So…”
Doctor: “It’s fine. Just make sure she comes in for regular infusions from now on.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan was startled and became anxious: “So she’ll never fully recover? Does this mean frequent hospital visits?”
The doctor, a middle-aged man, looked at her and couldn’t help but laugh: “Do you think your grandma is you? At her age, this is nothing. You should be grateful—this is already quite good. If possible, it would be best if she didn’t live alone anymore. Having someone around to take care of her would be ideal.”
With each sentence the doctor spoke, Jiang Xiaoyuan nodded, obediently. She was already thinking about stopping Jiang Bo and settling on a house immediately.
Grandma sat on the hospital bed. The doctor didn’t avoid speaking in front of her, and she didn’t seem scared or worried, as if the illness wasn’t happening to her at all.
Once the doctor left, Grandma waved Jiang Xiaoyuan over: “Come here.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan hurried over, crouching by the bed.
Grandma looked at her and didn’t say the usual “I don’t want to burden you by moving to the city” nonsense. Instead, she asked: “Were you crying?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan was too embarrassed to mention that she had mistaken someone else, so she just admitted it silently.
Grandma had a needle in her hand, but just like the doctor had said, her thrombosis wasn’t severe. When she spoke, her words didn’t have that slurred, unclear quality typical of stroke patients. Her voice was just slow, reflecting a certain calm wisdom and composure.
“I’m already this old. I didn’t die this time, but at most, I’ll stay at your place in the city for a few days, so you won’t have too many regrets in the future. But in a few years, I’ll still die in the end,” Grandma said. “Can I stay with you until you’re old? I can’t. Even a tortoise doesn’t live that long.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan’s nose tingled, and she felt the urge to cry again.
Grandma noticed the slight movement in her expression immediately.
Grandma: “You can’t be like this. You young ones are all spoiled. Back in our day, so many people died during wars, and so many during famines. Many kids lost their parents before they could wipe their noses. Once your parents are gone, you’re the adult, and you have to find your own way. There’s no room for being sentimental.”
After a pause, Grandma muttered, “I feel like ever since you moved to the city, you’ve grown more capable but also… smaller as a person.”
“That’s because the top student who dropped out of school to support the family no longer exists,” Jiang Xiaoyuan thought. “Instead, there’s me, someone a few years older but completely useless.”
But even though Grandma was wise, she hadn’t had much education. Her imagination was limited to the small fields she worked in. She could never fathom that there was a group of physicists out there who came up with something as wild as the ‘parallel universe theory.’ So while she was puzzled by Jiang Xiaoyuan’s changes, she wasn’t suspicious—she just held Jiang Xiaoyuan’s hand resting on the bed.
“You need to grow up, grow up and quickly,” Grandma repeated softly. Then she seemed tired, her words trailing off, and she slowly fell asleep, full of worry.
Jiang Xiaoyuan clumsily adjusted her pillow, staying by her side until dusk. Then, she noticed Qi Lian’s shadow flash by at the door. He entered, bringing a chill with him, and gestured for her to come over.
He handed the food he’d bought to Uncle Sun and his wife, then said to Jiang Xiaoyuan, “You should eat first.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan had calmed down, but after an emotionally exhausting day, she felt weak and had no appetite, so she shook her head.
Qi Lian thought for a moment and then said seriously, “No, you must eat. I have something to tell you afterward. If you don’t eat, I’m afraid once I say it, you won’t be able to eat anything.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan caught the underlying meaning in his words—he was clearly treating himself as someone she could discuss important matters with. Not wanting to disappoint him, she set aside her childishness and immaturity, took a meal box, and ate half a box of dumplings without being picky.
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Okay, tell me.”
Qi Lian: “I went to see Teacher Jiang just now.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan was stunned: “Teacher Jiang? Didn’t he already leave?”
The two of them barely had time to briefly explain things to Uncle Sun before they hurried to another hospital renowned for treating burns.
Several hours earlier, Fan Xiaoxiao had caught up with Jiang Bo in the middle of the airport and, after a few words, pulled out a bottle of concentrated sulfuric acid from her bag and threw it at him.
Luckily, there was a jumpy woman nearby who screamed when she saw something flying through the air. Jiang Bo didn’t know what was happening, but the scream startled him, and he instinctively stepped back. Since he was taller than Fan Xiaoxiao, the bottle only hit his chest.
Unluckily, as with most people when they encounter danger, he reflexively put up his hand to block it, and half a bottle of acid splashed onto his hand.
Jiang Xiaoyuan rushed from one hospital to another and burst into Jiang Bo’s hospital room.
Empress Dowager Jiang’s hand had already been treated, and there were still a few white spots of ointment on his neck and chin—probably from a few splashes. His coat had been confiscated by the police as evidence, and they said it had revealed a large patch of down feathers that had valiantly protected him from more severe injuries.
Fortunately, Jiang Bo was wearing thick clothing due to the cold, so his chest wasn’t badly burned.
Jiang Xiaoyuan’s loud entrance startled him. Frowning, Jiang Bo glanced back at her: “Could you be a bit quieter?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan didn’t respond, her eyes immediately focusing on his hand, and she gasped.
She had always known that his hands were like magic, capable of turning anything into something extraordinary, but now…
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Does it hurt?”
“Not really,” Jiang Bo said, and then added, “It truly doesn’t hurt much. The doctor said that the top layer of skin is quickly carbonized and burned through, so the nerve endings die off fast. That’s why it doesn’t hurt much now.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan immediately turned to leave.
Jiang Bo: “Where are you going?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “I’m going to chop that crazy woman to pieces!”
Qi Lian quickly reached out to stop her: “She’s already been arrested. Calm down, you need to calm down.”
Jiang Bo leaned back on the bed, not showing much emotion. Maybe he had already been through the worst of it and was now feeling somewhat detached after most of the day had passed.
“I probably won’t be able to help you revise your proposal for the next round of the competition,” Jiang Bo said. “From now on, you’ll have to rely on yourself.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”
He’s still thinking about the competition at a time like this?
She stood there, speechless for a moment, her mind briefly filling with dark thoughts—could the Empress Dowager be so calm because he had lost the will to live?
Jiang Bo didn’t realize that his words had drained the color from Jiang Xiaoyuan’s face. He lowered his head, looking at his hand, which had lost its former glory: “Also, I won’t be able to juggle multiple responsibilities for a while. You’ll have to handle things for me—just try to keep a level head. I know your capabilities. You might hold your own in the regional competition against that group of colorblind competitors, but when it comes to the national finals, with so many top talents and even some international participants, you, as a rookie, stand little chance. Surviving the first round would already be a miracle.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan, on the verge of tears, said: “Are you cursing me?”
“Who’s cursing you?” Jiang Bo smiled faintly. “If you make it through the first round, you’ll save the studio at least half a year’s worth of advertising expenses. That would be pretty great.”
He was still calculating the advertising budget, so at least he wasn’t planning on dying. Feeling somewhat relieved, Jiang Xiaoyuan quickly lowered her head to wipe her eyes. She felt as though she had already cried enough to cover half a year of advertising costs.
“What are you crying about?” Jiang Bo raised an eyebrow. “As the boss, do you expect me to personally attend to clients in the future? If so, what’s the point of having you technicians?”
…His demeanor at that moment was exactly the same as when Jiang Xiaoyuan had questioned him before the preliminary competition about why he hadn’t registered, to which he had nonchalantly replied, “Competitions are for training stylists, not for training bosses.”
Suddenly, she asked bluntly, “What about Fan Xiaoxiao?”
“She’s gone mad,” Jiang Bo replied without a change in expression.
Jiang Xiaoyuan was stunned for a few seconds before exploding in anger. “Just saying she’s mad is enough? What if she claims she’s mentally ill later on, and you testify that she really is, letting her walk free? After everything, are you still going to take care of her for the rest of her life? You’ve debased yourself to the level of a dog!”
Her outburst startled the medical staff outside, and someone quickly came to check. Qi Lian hurriedly whispered a few explanations, closed the door, and gently pulled Jiang Xiaoyuan aside. “Why are you talking like that?”
“It’s fine, she always talks like this,” Jiang Bo responded coolly. “Every day, she turns into a dog three times: once poor as a dog, once tired as a dog, and once sleepy as a dog.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”
Jiang Bo: “You might as well adopt the stage name ‘Three Dogs for Life,’ Ms. Jiang.”
He habitually teased her, but the smile on his face gradually darkened.
“A person’s past, whether good or bad, is a fact,” Jiang Bo continued softly before Jiang Xiaoyuan could respond. “I’ve already ended up like this and don’t want to deny myself again. I’ve always wanted to move past the old days, but now I realize… some things can’t just be left behind. Sooner or later, they have to be resolved—unless you’re lucky enough to die before that.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan stared at him blankly for a while, and suddenly she recognized something familiar in his eyes—he wasn’t numb to the pain. Rather, if losing his hands was the price of freedom, he was willing to endure the pain.
Once, someone had sacrificed their life, clinging on in a robotic body, to secure freedom for everyone.
That person’s courage still existed in her heart, like a steady pillar of strength.
Jiang Bo: “I won’t testify for her, and I won’t concern myself with her anymore. Whether she ends up in prison or in a mental institution, from now on, I can be free from her. Don’t you think that’s a good thing?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan angrily retorted:”Bullsh*t!”
After speaking, she blew her nose hard, ready to find the on-duty doctor to ask for more details.
But Jiang Bo called her back.
“Xiaoyuan.” Jiang Bo rarely called her by her name like this—the Empress Dowager would never normally address a little eunuch so kindly.
“I want to say a few words to you,” Jiang Bo said. “Do you think she ruined me? Actually, she didn’t.”
“There are countless people smarter than you, countless people who work harder than you, yet they don’t all succeed. Do you know why?”
“Because some things are like a lottery. Everyone holds a ticket, waiting with hope for the winning number to be drawn, but only a very few are chosen. It’s entirely luck.”
“You can strive to be smarter than those hardworking people and work harder than those smart people, and maybe that will get you to a level where you can buy that lottery ticket and wait for the draw. That’s what it means to ‘plan for success.'”
“As for whether or not you win, that’s ‘destiny,’ pure luck.”
“So, what’s more important—luck or talent?” Jiang Bo looked at her and summed it up. “In my opinion, talent is just the two bucks you need to buy the lottery ticket, the prerequisite. Luck is what really matters. Me? I bought the ticket, entered the draw, but didn’t get picked. Nothing to be upset about.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan couldn’t help but ask: “Are you just going to accept your fate?”
Jiang Bo: “I can always buy another ticket—like for ‘successful businessman’ or ‘famous stylist.’ Who knows? I might win this time.”
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