Jiang Luo turned his head and asked, “Are you reluctant to leave?”
Huo Zongzhuo smiled, raising the hand resting on Jiang Luo’s shoulder to lightly stroke the back of his head—playful yet affectionate.
On the drive back to his hometown in Su City, thinking of Jiang Luo, Huo Zongzhuo couldn’t help but smile quietly to himself for quite a while.
Su City wasn’t far from Haicheng. That afternoon, Huo Zongzhuo returned and quickly drove back to his old family residence on Pingjiang Road in the city.
The house was tucked deep in an alley, a narrow gate opening into a courtyard, behind which stood a small two-story building. Huo Zongzhuo’s mother lived alone there, with Aunt Zhao helping care for her daily needs.
Today, seeing her son return, she was very happy, and Aunt Zhao had already begun preparing dinner.
Huo Zongzhuo entered the courtyard to find his mother sitting under the eaves, holding a small white cat she had adopted.
“Zongzhuo’s back,” she said happily.
“Mom,” he greeted warmly and hurried over, crouching to speak gently, “Why are you outside? Waiting for me? It’s hot out—come inside.”
She picked up the cat and followed him into the house. Despite her age, she moved with relative ease. “Not too hot. I just came out and waited a little.”
Huo Zongzhuo was born late in his parents’ life; his mother was 40 when she had him, and he was now almost 30, making her around 70. While 70 isn’t extremely old—many people that age can still help care for grandchildren if healthy—his mother had aged faster than usual. Years of biochemical research and exposure to chemicals had likely taken their toll, leaving her with white hair and frail legs.
Because of his business, Huo Zongzhuo was often away, but he always made it a point to check in on his mother and visit when he could. Today, both she and Aunt Zhao were delighted to see him.
Inside, he talked with his mother. She conserved her energy but still cared deeply for him. They often spoke by phone, discussing both daily life and business, which she enjoyed listening to.
During their conversation, she suddenly asked, “The boy you’ve mentioned several times before… do you really like him?”
Huo Zongzhuo’s mother had long known about his orientation. He had come out in his early twenties, and she had embraced it with an open mind, encouraging him not to feel pressured by conventional expectations of marriage or children.
Over the years, she’d only occasionally asked if there was someone he liked, never pressuring him. Now, hearing him bring up this boy often in phone calls, her curiosity grew, and she asked about his name, age, and hometown.
At 18, he was indeed young—but she didn’t mind. Coming of age was enough. Youth could be a positive; the boy was likely lively and energetic, a perfect complement to the calm and steady Huo Zongzhuo.
Huo Zongzhuo smiled at her question. “Of course I like him.”
“Just haven’t made it official yet,” he added.
“For now, we’re just friends, chatting and having meals together.”
“You know, there aren’t many like me,” he said.
“If he only likes girls, I won’t force it.”
She replied, “I’m not forcing anything, just curious.”
He continued, “He’s got a great personality—outgoing, fearless, speaks his mind. He used to trade stocks, then went to Wencheng to trade goods, and now he’s starting his own clothing brand.”
“She’s talented and knowledgeable,” Huo added. “I mentioned meeting the leaders in Pudong, and he could guess they needed financing—he knew I’d be approached.”
His mother was impressed. “Amazing. Really amazing.”
“You were about his age when you first started out. Smart, capable, struggled for years before earning anything. He’s already built a business—more capable than you were. No wonder you like him.”
They sat together talking for a long while.
That evening, in the upstairs room of the old house, Huo Zongzhuo stood on his balcony, dialing Jiang Luo’s pager with his cell phone.
When Jiang Luo answered, he sighed, “Dad, it’s been less than ten hours since lunch.”
“Miss me that much?” Huo asked with a smile.
“Where are you? Back at the Hilton, or still at the office?”
“At the workshop,” Jiang Luo replied, using the office landline. “I’m discussing sample garments with Lao Zhang.”
“Am I disturbing you? I’ll hang up.”
Jiang Luo didn’t answer directly but asked, “Where were you? You didn’t say at lunch that you were leaving Haicheng.”
“I went home first, to see my mother.”
“What about Auntie? Is she unwell?”
Huo chuckled, “Shouldn’t you call her Grandma?”
Jiang Luo laughed. “Don’t take advantage of me—watch out, or I’ll toss your Omega in the river.”
Huo was unfazed. “Go ahead. Throw it. I’ll buy you another when I return.”
“Wow~~” Jiang Luo teased. “Generous, rich. That’s Boss Huo for you.”
Nearby, Zhang Ningfu, wearing an apron and glasses with a soft tape measure around his neck, watched in puzzlement. So Jiang Luo is talking to his… father? He realized now why the young boss could manage business and even afford a Mercedes.
Two days later, Wang Chuang returned from Jinling. Without prior notice, he went straight to the company, arriving quietly.
Jiang Luo was at the office, working on a mannequin, when the door suddenly opened. Wang Chuang strode in theatrically, arms wide, as if declaring, “I’m back!”
Jiang Luo laughed. “Flying back?”
Wang slapped his chest. “Done! Everything’s done! Our brand can enter Jinling department stores!”
“Ok! All ok!”
Jiang Luo grinned. “Showing off.” He set a pin into the fabric on the mannequin and reached out to shake Wang’s hand. They hit palms and bumped shoulders in a practiced gesture.
“Not bad,” Jiang Luo said.
“Of course!” Wang replied confidently.
Noticing Wang had lost some weight since he left, Jiang Luo said, “It wasn’t easy, huh? Must have faced a lot of tough situations.”
“No way,” Wang denied. “You’re great. I can’t be worse than you.”
Tall, chest out, chin up, eyes arrogant, he declared, “Let’s go to Huating. Celebrate.”
“Alright, we’ll celebrate.” Jiang Luo smirked.
Two weeks later, Wang brought back the good news of Jinling department stores. Excited, he invited some colleagues to Huating. They booked a private room, enjoyed a lively meal with laughter, and Wang shared stories from Jinling.
Accounting quietly remarked to Jiang Luo, “Wang’s reporting only the good news.”
Jiang Luo thought: who doesn’t? Publicly, no one talks about the bad stuff—everyone cares about appearances.
Sure enough, at Huating, Wang boasted endlessly and said nothing of the difficulties.
After leaving, Wang rode in Jiang Luo’s car, still quiet, finally commenting, “This baijiu is awful.”
“Terrible,” Jiang Luo agreed.
That confirmed it—during the Jinling trip, Wang must have endured a lot of pressure, smiling and laughing through it all.
Jiang Luo knew all too well—when seeking favors, one often had to swallow pride, letting others tread on it if needed. The road to making money, especially upward, was never easy.
Driving, he asked, “Did you throw up?”
Leaning back in the passenger seat, Wang waved it off. “No way, I can handle it.”
Jiang Luo nodded calmly. “Even if you don’t say it, I know—you had to keep smiling for them this trip.”