“Huang… Bingbing?”
Jiang Luo rolled down the car window. The young woman, standing in the late August sun, came up to the car, bent slightly, and looked inside. “Hello, are you Jiang Luo, Mr. Jiang?”
“Do you have business with me?”
Jiang Luo studied her. At this moment, Huang Bingbing looked very young, barely in her early twenties.
She didn’t introduce herself further—obviously, she didn’t know him—just politely said, “May I come to your office and talk? I won’t take up much of your time.”
“Alright.”
The sliding gate opened, the car drove into the factory, and Huang Bingbing followed on foot, shading her eyes from the sun.
Old Four glanced in the rearview mirror at her figure and asked, curiously: “Mr. Jiang, do you know her?”
Jiang Luo didn’t answer, lost in thought for a moment. Huang Bingbing was a doctor—the very same doctor who had been his primary physician in Haicheng in his previous life.
Why was she here?
In this life, they had no prior connection, at least until today.
Jiang Luo got out of the car and waited as Huang Bingbing approached.
Seeing him waiting, she hurried closer. “Sorry to trouble you.”
He led her into the office, turned on the air conditioning, and sat at the tea table. He boiled water, made tea, and gestured to the sofa opposite him: “Sit.”
“Thank you.”
Huang Bingbing wiped the sweat from her face, put down her shoulder bag, and sat.
“Why are you here?” Jiang Luo asked calmly, eyes lowered, washing the teaware in his hands.
Huang Bingbing was slightly surprised. “You… you know who I am?”
“No,” Jiang Luo replied, looking up at her. “But if you came to see me, it must be important.”
“My surname is Huang. Huang Bingbing,” she said, introducing herself. “I’m Zhao Shuo’s fiancée.”
Jiang Luo: “…!”
What!?
He was shocked. In this life, Zhao Shuo’s fiancée was Huang Bingbing?
She had been his doctor in the previous life, and Zhao Shuo didn’t even know her. Last life, Zhao Shuo’s wife had been an elementary school teacher.
Jiang Luo showed no expression, continued making tea: “So? What brings you here?”
Huang Bingbing looked earnest. “I’m here on behalf of Zhao Shuo and his parents… his uncle and aunt.”
She took out a red-covered envelope from her bag and handed it over with both hands: “Zhao Shuo and I are about to be married. This is the invitation.”
For anyone else, Jiang Luo would have been indifferent about Zhao Shuo’s fiancée or their marriage—but this was Huang Bingbing, the doctor who had tried so hard to save him in his previous life. Naturally, he couldn’t ignore her.
He took the invitation and glanced at it. It was indeed for Zhao Shuo and Huang Bingbing’s wedding, scheduled for next month.
After looking, he placed the invitation on the sofa beside him.
Huang Bingbing watched him. After a pause, she summoned the courage to continue: “As a future member of the Zhao family, of course I know a bit about your situation.”
“I didn’t come because Zhao Shuo’s family asked me to. I came on my own.”
Huang Bingbing explained clearly: “Because my relationship with Zhao Shuo is really good, and his family treats me well. I just wanted to try, to see if I could do something for them…”
“Even if it’s just delivering this invitation.”
Looking at Jiang Luo sincerely, she said: “Jiang Luo, his parents and Zhao Shuo… they truly regret how things went. They’ve always hoped you could come home.”
“Their feelings for you are genuine. I swear that to you.”
Jiang Luo didn’t like to hear these things, nor did he bother, but because it was Huang Bingbing speaking, he didn’t interrupt her and let her finish.
Huang Bingbing: “I know I have no real standing to say these things here. I just want to try, to see… whether you would meet me, whether you could accept the invitation, whether you’d attend our wedding.”
“We really hope you can come. Congratulations.”
Jiang Luo waited until she finished, then said simply: “I won’t attend the wedding.”
“I understand what you mean. I wish you happiness in your marriage.”
He truly meant it for Huang Bingbing.
Huang Bingbing, having said all she wanted, noticed Jiang Luo’s neutral attitude and felt slightly awkward—after all, she didn’t know him, yet had come and spoken so freely.
Jiang Luo calmly asked: “One more thing… how did you meet Zhao Shuo?”
Huang Bingbing explained: “At Huating. Coincidentally, you were there that day too. You remember? You splashed water on Zhao Shuo at that restaurant while I was having dinner with friends. You both made quite a scene.”
“I went to wash my hands, and Zhao Shuo came out of the men’s room. His face and clothes were dripping. I noticed and lent him my handkerchief. That’s how we met.”
Jiang Luo thought fate really had a sense of irony.
Later, Huang Bingbing left. Jiang Luo saw her off, watching her walk away, stunned for a moment—
In his previous life, it felt like a long, long time ago.
He remembered the first time he saw her: masked, sitting at her desk in the consultation room, eyes warm and calm, asking where he was feeling unwell.
He remembered sitting with her on a bench in front of the inpatient building, basking in the sun and chatting casually.
He remembered when he transferred to Beijing Xiehe, Huang Bingbing had come specifically to encourage him, holding his hand, telling him not to give up, assuring him he’d be alright.
Jiang Luo stood with hands in his pockets, watching her back—alas, Dr. Huang, that was the last time.
“Thank you,” he whispered silently—the words he never got to say before he passed last life.
What, then, is fate?
On the way back to Wukang Road, Jiang Luo sat in the back seat, quietly watching the passing streetlights and shadows of trees flicker across his expressionless face.
Was it that, in his previous life, no matter how hard he tried, he could never achieve a satisfying life?
Was it the ending of one life and the beginning of another?
Or sheer coincidence—because of him, Huang Bingbing and Zhao Shuo ended up together?
He didn’t know.
But in his eyes, meeting Huo Zongzhuo and falling in love with him… that was fate treating him kindly.
Back at Wukang Road, as the car stopped in the yard, he saw Huo Zongzhuo waiting at the door. Jiang Luo spread his arms lazily, calling out: “Dad~ Dad~”
“It’s been too long.”
They hugged. Jiang Luo closed his eyes—so good to be back, finally seeing him.
Huo Zongzhuo patted him during the hug: “Tired from all this time?”
Jiang Luo smugly: “What body? How could I be tired?”
Leaning his weight onto the man, he lifted a leg: “Carry me inside.”
Huo Zongzhuo scooped him up, supporting his legs, and stepped into the house.
They sat on the sofa, close together, chatting about the time apart, their respective situations, and recent experiences, endlessly as if there weren’t enough hours in the day.
Leaning on Huo Zongzhuo’s shoulder, Jiang Luo asked softly: “Did you miss me?”
“Yes.”
Huo Zongzhuo’s tone was gentle.
Jiang Luo smiled: “I missed you too. Just been too busy… otherwise I’d have flown back to see you.”
At that moment, his heart settled. With Huo Zongzhuo by his side, he felt safe, content.
That night, he finally slept next to Huo Zongzhuo again.
They lay together intimately, Jiang Luo letting Huo Zongzhuo recite poetry and classical texts, while he sang the Cantonese love songs Huo Zongzhuo liked, one after another.
When tired, he closed his eyes, resting his face on Huo Zongzhuo’s shoulder. Huo Zongzhuo asked softly: “Time to sleep?”
“Mhm.”
“Sleep then.”
“Dad~”
Jiang Luo murmured in his sleep.
“What’s wrong?”
Huo Zongzhuo bent down, lips brushing Jiang Luo’s temple.
He said nothing, drifting into sleep. Huo Zongzhuo kissed his forehead as always.
In the middle of the night, Jiang Luo woke, turned on the bedside lamp, and gazed at Huo Zongzhuo sleeping beside him. He watched for a long time, realizing he hadn’t truly looked at him in ages.
After a while, he finally turned off the lamp and went back to sleep.
Jiang Luo returned to his busy schedule, Shengfei’s business still ongoing, traveling nationwide.
He and Huo Zongzhuo stayed in touch via phone.
That day, when Wang Chuang came from Shenzhen, Jiang Luo fell into a quiet mood amid the busyness. Wang Chuang looked at him curiously: “Why the sigh?”
“Money’s plenty in the accounts. Shouldn’t I be smiling in my dreams?”
Just between them, Jiang Luo admitted: “I missed Huo Zongzhuo.”
“Oh.”