Bai Ting explained, “I just thought Jiang Luo’s biological parents seemed like good people. They’re nice, they’re well off… If Jiang Luo recognized them and went back, there’d only be benefits, no downsides.”
Wang Chuang instantly said, “Yeah, sure—now it looks good to recognize them. Now their ‘son’ is capable, can run a business, can make money.”
“But back then? When my Luo-ge wasn’t doing business and wasn’t earning a cent—back in April—where were they?”
Even Wang Chuang got it: “Mom, you can’t just assume someone’s good because they chatted with you a bit. That doesn’t make them good people.”
“For anything about my Luo-ge, whether it’s biological parents or adoptive parents, just stay out of it.”
“You’re my mom. Worry about me. Don’t go talking too much in front of my Luo-ge.”
Bai Ting thought about it and finally started to realize, “Yeah… back in early April that family already came to find us, didn’t they? Why didn’t they take Jiang Luo back then?”
Then she hit the nail on the head: “Could it be… when they saw Jiang Luo wasn’t studying or working, they figured he wasn’t a good kid, so they didn’t like him?”
Wang Chuang snorted: “What do you think?”
Bai Ting sighed hard. “My gosh, I thought they were such reasonable, decent people. Turns out… sigh. Poor little Luo, what a life.”
“I actually thought since you two took the train and left town and they couldn’t reach you, I could help hand the truck over to Jiang Luo on their behalf.”
“Now I—well…”
Walking behind them, Wang Junwei said to Bai Ting, “From now on, don’t make decisions on your own. And don’t go contacting that family privately.”
“If Jiang Luo doesn’t want anything to do with them, we shouldn’t stick our noses in. Otherwise he’ll just be upset.”
Bai Ting nodded. “I know.”
Meanwhile, Jiang Luo didn’t have the slightest emotional ripple from that dinner-table conversation about Zhao Guangyuan’s family.
That whole bunch—including Zhao Mingshi—he’d already tossed out of his mind long ago, and tossed far.
Back at the Hilton, Jiang Luo took a bath. While he was soaking, the beeper on the bed outside went beep-beep-beep, and he knew eight times out of ten it was Huo Zongzhuo.
After he finished his bath, he came out with only a towel around his waist, chest bare, leaned against the headboard, picked up the landline, and called Huo’s mobile.
Beep—beep—
It rang twice before it was picked up.
Jiang Luo smiled lazily. “Good evening, Boss Huo.”
Huo Zongzhuo’s voice carried a smile too, but he said, “Not that good. Drank a bit too much tonight—don’t even have strength to hold my phone.”
Then added, “Did you go back to Haicheng today? Don’t tell me you already moved all the goods to the market?”
Jiang Luo swung one leg off the bed. “Yep.”
Huo Zongzhuo chuckled softly, voice slow and gentle. “That’s way too efficient. Tomorrow would’ve been fine—you didn’t need to rush.”
Jiang Luo joked, “How could I not rush? You’re almost done selling out your planes, and I haven’t even started.”
“Can’t let all the money end up in your pocket, right?”
Huo Zongzhuo laughed again. “The planes aren’t sold out. Not that fast.”
“And don’t be modest. The moment you bought those stocks at the Jing’an branch, you’d already started.”
Jiang Luo snorted. “I’ll take that as you complimenting me.”
Huo Zongzhuo’s voice dropped, low and magnetic. “No ‘take it as.’ I am complimenting you.”
…
They talked like this every day, and somehow grew more and more familiar.
Neither could pinpoint when it started, but their calls got longer and longer, and the topics broader and more casual. Tonight too—somehow they ended up talking about the stray cat Huo kept back home in Sucheng. He said the cat had litter after litter, and maybe because it was getting old, his mother called saying it’d just had one this time—a snow-white little female.
Huo Zongzhuo said, “My mom really likes that little white cat. She kept it. She’s bored at home anyway, so it’ll keep her company.”
Jiang Luo followed the topic. “Your mom’s retired, right?”
“Mm.”
Huo Zongzhuo’s tone stayed gentle. “She’s seventy. She had me when she was already forty.”
Jiang Luo listened to him talk about his mother for a while.
Before they knew it, almost an hour had passed.
He’d gotten used to talking with Huo Zongzhuo. He didn’t even notice the time anymore. He genuinely enjoyed these conversations—relaxed, comfortable, like chatting with a close friend.
Before hanging up, Huo Zongzhuo said, “When we have time, I’ll take you back with me. Sucheng is beautiful year-round.”
“Sure.”
Jiang Luo’s lips curved. “I’ve never been to Sucheng anyway.”
Huo Zongzhuo reminded him about a few business matters. Jiang Luo snorted. “What, am I your son? You worry about me so much you have to remind me every time?”
“Relax, I know what I’m doing.”