Four Years Ago, Her Husband Cheated on Her Body - Chapter 29

“It matters not.”

Watching the commotion among the guests grow louder due to the seating arrangements, Ji Fuling raised her hand to still the farce. Her voice was not loud, yet it carried an innate authority as she allowed Chi Jinran to support her toward a seat at the edge of the back row.

Even she did not understand why Jia Qiao had arranged things this way, sparking outside speculation that their relationship had grown distant.

But just as Lu Min had said…

“That child must have his reasons for the way he does things,” Chi Jinran whispered, her tone carrying a sense of almost blind faith.

“Yes, quite right,” Ji Fuling nodded in agreement. “I know what’s in my heart; Qiao Qiao  is a good child.”

[Doting.jpg]

In the quiet, desolate private cemetery, all the guests had arrived, and the funeral officially began.

In theory, that was the case…

However, the strange thing was that ordinary funerals—regardless of scale—always had a master of ceremonies or a host to control the flow and guide everyone on what to do. For instance, when to present flowers, when to bow, and when to deliver a eulogy.

Zhu Nanyu’s funeral was different. Forget a master of ceremonies; there wasn’t a single staff member on-site.

A hollow, eerie silence permeated the air.

Zhao Ming’s seat was arranged in the middle of the first row. He craned his neck to look ahead, but there was still a massive gap between him and the tombstone. It was as if an invisible dividing line had been drawn, ruthlessly separating them from the grave.

Every aspect of this funeral breathed absurdity and abnormality.

Aside from the guests, there were several specially invited reporters who had intended to capture moving photographs of life-and-death partings. At this moment, they felt somewhat at a loss, their lenses unable to find a focus.

As it happened, five full minutes after the funeral began, Jia Qiao merely walked slowly to the front of the tombstone and stood there silently.

He looked like a devout gravekeeper.

He said nothing and did nothing, simply staring at the headstone. The falling drizzle dampened his long hair and shoulders.

Time ticked away second by second. After staring for roughly ten minutes, Jia Qiao finally withdrew his gaze.

He turned around, took a few steps toward the solemn guests, and spoke slowly.

“Thank you all for coming today to attend my husband’s funeral.”

“As you surely know, this is an empty grave.”

“This…”

“Sigh.”

For a moment, the guests either sighed or murmured in sorrow.

“Director Zhu was such a good man, to think he died without even a body left behind…”

“No wonder Jia Qiao kept delaying the funeral. Who could bear this?”

Everyone assumed that Jia Qiao was about to break down in tears, overwhelmed by grief, saying things like ‘After waiting for four years, I’ve finally decided to accept reality’ or ‘I have no choice but to set up a cenotaph for my late husband.’

Little did they know, he glanced back at the tombstone and stated in a tone of almost indifferent calm:

“Because his grave is not here.”

The moment those words left his lips, several “beep-beep” sounds—resembling a countdown timer—suddenly rang out across the quiet, open cemetery.

Friends who frequently watched Detective Conan or suspense films felt their hair stand on end instantly, and they began searching frantically for hidden devices near their seats.

Tension spread rapidly as everyone searched for the source of the sound, and whispers broke out all around.

Only Jia Qiao, standing at the very front, acted as if he hadn’t heard a thing, continuing on his own.

“I often have a dream, and at the end of that dream is Zhu Nanyu’s tombstone.”

“So, I have always believed that he was buried inside my dream.”

Many speculated that Jia Qiao’s delay in erecting a headstone was because he refused to accept the death. In reality, it was quite the opposite; Jia Qiao’s heart wasn’t filled with such complicated twists.

Since that accident, Zhu Nanyu had died repeatedly in his dreams more times than he could count.

Ten times? A hundred? Two hundred?

Jia Qiao had long since lost track.

Since he now knew clearly that Zhu Nanyu was still alive, why should he keep himself trapped in a meaningless nightmare?

“And now…”

Before Jia Qiao could finish his sentence, everyone heard a clear, long BEEP—.

Immediately following was a deafening roar!

An explosion—not excessively violent but possessing a powerful presence—echoed in everyone’s ears.

The guests in the front row ducked and covered their heads in fear; Zhao Ming nearly wet his pants.

Everyone saw clearly as the originally seamless coffin lid was blasted open from the inside by a massive force.

The Ecuadorian white roses surrounding the casket were swept up by the blast’s air current, shredded into pieces, flying into the sky before slowly drifting down.

In an instant, it looked like a pure and beautiful rain of roses, gently surrounding Jia Qiao.

Jia Qiao stood there, his brow not furrowing once from beginning to end. He even wore a beautiful smile:

“I blew it up.”

Within five minutes of the explosion, related keywords rocketed to the top of the trending searches, followed by a dark red “EXPLOSIVE” tag.

—It truly had exploded, in every sense of the word.

#ZhuNanyuPhysicalResurrection #JiaQiao #IsThisTheCrazyBeauty

The reporters on-site were stunned, yet they remained professional enough to record the clearest footage despite the blast.

The video went viral instantly, its view count breaking a million and continuing to grow exponentially. Everyone replayed the progress bar repeatedly just to see the breathtaking image of Jia Qiao standing before the tombstone, surrounded by the rain of pure white flowers.

【Ahhh! Jia Qiao is so beautiful I’m jumping! What a magnificent face!!!】

【Help, this frame is legendary! All those MVs and idol dramas need to learn—this is what true ‘crazy beauty’ and ‘shattered aesthetic’ look like!】

【Wait, sisters, don’t just focus on the looks. Is no one concerned that Jia Qiao blew up his husband’s coffin lid?】

【So what? Even his husband didn’t say anything (manually adds dog head emoji)】

【Hahaha, what kind of hellish joke is the person above making? Director Zhu says thank you.】

“…Are you really okay? Did you get hurt anywhere? Quickly, let the doctor see!”

After the explosion, Ji Fuling ignored all attempts to stop her and rushed to Jia Qiao’s side. Anxiety was written all over her face as she hurriedly asked Dr. Zhou to examine Jia Qiao thoroughly.

“He really isn’t injured, otherwise I would have lost my temper long ago,” Dr. Zhou said with a hint of indignation, clearly disapproving of Jia Qiao’s death-defying stunt.

Later, professionals inspected the site. They found no scent of gunpowder nor any traces of explosives.

Jia Qiao’s “physical resurrection” looked insane, but the coffin had actually been filled with liquid carbon dioxide. When the temperature of liquid carbon dioxide exceeds 40°C, it expands, increasing its volume several times over, which forced open the pre-sealed coffin.

Anyone who had taken middle school chemistry knew that carbon dioxide is colorless, odorless, and non-toxic.

Jia Qiao had cleared the area in advance; other than himself standing within the range of the effect, there was no danger to the guests.

Upon learning this detail, the netizens discussing the matter were moved to tears, sighing, “His gentleness is killing me.”

Some people even prepared to hire a Taoist priest to try and find Zhu Nanyu’s soul or reincarnation to bring before Jia Qiao.

Once the initial shock and memes subsided, people began to discuss seriously, wondering why Jia Qiao would blow up Zhu Nanyu’s coffin lid for no apparent reason.

【If Jia Jia hated the tombstone, he could have just not held a funeral at all.】

【+1, I heard that cemetery is the one with the best scenery in all of City A, and the funeral planners were the most professional team with an unlimited budget.】

【It can’t be just because he’s so rich he did it for fun, right? That would be too much of a performance art.】

【Jia Jia said he keeps having nightmares; maybe it was to uproot the nightmare. Thinking about it, if I kept dreaming about my lover being dead, my mental state would definitely explode. It’s not strange to go a bit crazy.】

【Why does everyone think Jia Qiao is going crazy? I think he’s very sober. Think about it: Zhu Nanyu kept dying in his dreams, so he wanted to find evidence of his true death to cast the dream into reality and accept it. However, four years passed without a single clue to prove he was dead, so he chose to dig up the grave from his dream and blow it up personally. From now on, the Zhu Nanyu in his heart is alive.】

【!!! Holy crap, sister, take my bow! A totally unexpected way to solve the puzzle.】

【Now that you put it that way, I feel Jia Jia really did mean that.】

【He uprooted the nightmare, and from then on, the Zhu Nanyu in his heart came back to life.】

These words were merely the analysis of netizens, with no factual basis.

To their surprise, not long after, everyone simultaneously scrolled past a newly registered public account. The homepage had only one newly posted Weibo.

Jia Qiao: The flowers I planted myself bloomed today. [Image]

The attached photo showed a small flowerpot the size of a palm. In the pot were two vibrant green seedlings, bursting with life. At the tips, several small flowers had bloomed, their blue petals slowly unfurling to reveal tender yellow stamens inside—fresh and lovely.

Anyone with a slight knowledge of plants immediately recognized the variety—Forget-Me-Nots.

Before the crowd could dive into a deep analysis of why Jia Qiao had suddenly opened a public account just to post a pot of forget-me-nots, the system automatically posted a second Weibo:

Jia Qiao: Today is my birthday, come and send your blessings~

Only then did the crowd realize in hindsight that the car accident that caused such a stir years ago happened the day before Jia Qiao’s 20th birthday.

After the incident, many “insiders” had claimed vividly that because Jia Qiao insisted on celebrating his 20th birthday, he caused Zhu Nanyu’s accident.

And the day Jia Qiao held the funeral was his own birthday.

Netizens, already emotional over the “physical resurrection,” reached a new peak of sentimentality. They began churning out comments like “October 14th, the day he lives, the day he dies,” “From now on my birthday is linked to your death day,” and “The ceiling of BE (Bad Ending) aesthetics.”

However, Jia Qiao himself had no such thoughts.

He had explained many times that October 14th was merely a random date he had filled in during registration. If it weren’t for Zhu Nanyu, Jia Qiao would never have felt that this day held any significance.

While the clamor of the funeral had yet to subside, Jia Qiao had already dumped the mess onto his team, bid farewell to everyone, and returned home alone to rest.

Back at the villa, as in previous years, he received a wide variety of birthday gifts.

Paintings by famous artists, ornaments crafted by lead designers, and some who “gave what he liked” by sending diamonds… a dazzling array of items with exorbitant prices, all of which were nothing more than social pleasantries and etiquette.

Lu Min held up his notebook: ‘Master, the gift list has been organized. Shall I handle them as before?’

“Mm.” Jia Qiao glanced casually at the long list. “Send the list to the company and let them handle the return gifts later.”

Even though Jia Qiao never celebrated his own birthday, if people sent gifts to his doorstep and he coldly turned them away, it would make him look pretentious and overly sensitive.

This was a lesson Zhu Nanyu had taught him.

Thinking of Zhu Nanyu, Jia Qiao’s gaze suddenly froze. He searched up and down through the mountain of gifts.

Nothing.

“Give me the list.” Jia Qiao took the list and checked it twice carefully. Neither the name ‘Zhu Nanyu’ nor ‘Zoa’ appeared on it.

Lanner, however, had sent a gift—a set of aromatherapy that smelled very flamboyant even through the packaging.

“How could it be…” Jia Qiao murmured softly.

Even if Zhu Nanyu was addicted to playing dead, he shouldn’t ignore his own birthday.

To take ten thousand steps back, Zoa was currently playing the substitute game with him—could he really have prepared nothing?

Does he even know how to be a substitute!

Despite always feeling that this day was nothing special, discovering that Zhu Nanyu was truly indifferent caused a tiny, unfamiliar emotion to surge within Jia Qiao.

It wasn’t quite anger, but something bitter and stifling—a feeling of… grievance that was foreign even to him.

“Are these all the gifts?” Jia Qiao looked up, confirming once more with Lu Min.

Lu Min tilted his head in thought, then picked up his pen and began to write.

He wrote quickly, but Jia Qiao felt it was too slow this time, leaning in slightly to watch him write. This made Lu Min very nervous, his pen tip nearly sparking against the paper.

‘That gentleman with the golden hair gave me a gift during the funeral. Because he said it wasn’t a birthday gift from himself, I didn’t add it to the list’…

“Give it to me.” Before Lu Min could finish writing, Jia Qiao interrupted him, his voice far more urgent than usual.

Lu Min was startled, his hand shaking as he looked at Jia Qiao in a daze.

In the past, whether it was an antique watch or a top-tier diamond, Jia Qiao always let Lu Min handle it. Today he was so concerned about a gift—how strange.

Half a minute later, Lu Min brought over a square box about the size of two palms and carefully handed it to Jia Qiao.

The wrapping paper was a plain, deep blue with a beautiful bow tied on the outside. A small greeting card was tucked into the side, which read:

‘Happy Birthday To Dear Jia Qiao’.

Signed by: Zoa.

It was all in English, handwritten in a printed style, as if he were deathly afraid Jia Qiao would recognize his handwriting.

Jia Qiao took the box, looked at the shape, and weighed it in his hand. An absurd thought flashed through his mind:

Could it be that because Zhu Nanyu was annoyed his coffin was blown up, he prepared a funeral urn for him?