Accountant Xue said, “We’d have to check with Tongcheng.”
He added, “His temper is fine? Two minutes late with tea and he glares at me. So arrogant—nobody’s as full of themselves as he is.”
A colleague laughed: “Old Xue, you’ve got a sharp tongue but a soft heart. You complain, sure, but as soon as Boss Jiang arrives, you’re worrying even about what he eats for lunch.”
“Exactly,” the others chuckled.
Two days later, the materials from Guangzhou arrived at Haicheng’s train station. Meanwhile, Director Liu in Tongcheng, still waiting for a call from Jiang Luo, was getting restless.
He thought: the counters are doing so well—does Jiang Luo not need the materials? Is the factory not lacking materials or stopping production?
When he also heard that the payment for the previous batch of materials hadn’t been received, Liu became even more uneasy, quietly fretting.
After two more days of waiting without a call from Jiang Luo, and with payments still pending, Liu realized something was wrong. Unable to find a solution, he swallowed his pride and called Jiang Luo.
The line connected. “Hello, who’s this?” Jiang Luo’s voice was as usual: calm and steady.
“Boss Jiang, it’s me, Liu Jiao.”
Jiang Luo: “Who?”
Thinking Jiang Luo hadn’t heard, Liu repeated: “Liu Jiao.”
“Oh!” Jiang Luo responded briefly.
Liu forced a laugh: “I just wanted to check…”
Jiang Luo: “Don’t know you.”
Click.
Beep—beep—beep—
Liu Jiao’s face went green. He thought: No materials? Don’t need them anymore? Really? And the payment for the last batch—you did get that, right?
Unable to bear the embarrassment, Liu didn’t call again. Instead, he asked the finance department to chase Haicheng for payment. Worst case, Jiang Luo stops ordering—no big deal. The factory is busy and can sell to anyone.
But when the finance staff called, they returned with a sour expression:
“The line said they don’t have money. Go ahead and sue if you want.”
“They even said they like lawsuits—sue once, avoid payment, then sue again.”
“All they like is lawsuits.”
Liu Jiao spat blood mentally.
No matter how Liu thought about it, he couldn’t understand why Jiang Luo was untouchable.
Normally, if he pulled tricks like this, the other party would be polite, handing over cigarettes, wine, or money. Why didn’t it work with Jiang Luo?
Was it because the young man had no sense—or was he just too arrogant?
Liu wanted to “make amends” and continue cooperating with Jiang Luo. He believed business outweighed sentiment, but Jiang Luo’s decisive attitude left him unwilling to press further. He let it drop. Payment could be delayed; Jiang Luo’s orders weren’t that significant anyway.
Liu kept wondering why Jiang Luo never came back for materials. No matter how he thought, he couldn’t corner Jiang Luo, and it gave him headaches.
Meanwhile, in November, Jiang Luo had already stocked “Vilanido” counters with winter clothing—making them the first in Yong’an to do so.
The winter coats weren’t cheap—long coats were priced at 1,699 yuan. When the sales staff at the counters saw the price tags, they were shocked; workers at the factory were even more stunned.
1,000? 2,000? 4,000!?
Could anyone actually buy this?
Yet, despite the high prices, these coats nearly sold out in the early cold of November. Daily revenue for the counters reached staggering figures.
Wang Chuang was thrilled reviewing the accounts, and accountant Xue and the rest of the staff were overjoyed, especially since Jiang Luo had given everyone a raise and extra bonuses for summer and the Mid-Autumn Festival.
“Awesome!” Wang Chuang said. The money felt well-earned.
Jiang Luo remained calm—busy when necessary, relaxing in the office with tea and designs when not. He also used some new materials to make two scarves: one for Huo Zongzhuo, and one for Huo Zongzhuo’s mother back in Su City.
Huo Zongzhuo’s mother was delighted with the scarf, nodding: “Such a thoughtful child.”
She asked Huo Zongzhuo: “He gave you a gift—did you give him one in return?”
Huo Zongzhuo smiled: “I did. Watches, pagers—but they didn’t seem to impress him much. He accepted them without much surprise.”
His mother wrapped the scarf around her neck, understanding: “You weren’t trying to surprise him—you wanted to touch his heart.”
Huo Zongzhuo: “He wouldn’t understand. Still just a child.”
Mother smiled: “He’s not a child. Children can’t run a business.”
“You mean he doesn’t understand your feelings.”
Huo Zongzhuo: “Better he doesn’t. If he did, he might run away.”
Mother patted his hand: “Take it slow. First, just be ordinary friends. Later, see if there’s an opportunity.”
Huo Zongzhuo nodded: “Of course. Being friends is enough. I don’t expect someone to accept me given my situation. My feelings are my own, can’t force them on others. Besides, two men—it’s not ‘normal.’ And I haven’t seen Jiang Luo dislike girls. He’s a normal boy, bound to live a normal life—love, marriage, children.”
Mother smiled again: “Don’t blame yourself. Your situation isn’t your fault. Take care of your heart, but don’t regret trying.”
Huo Zongzhuo smiled: “I’ll know my limits.”
During Huo Zongzhuo’s departure from Haicheng, two things happened at Jiang Luo’s company.
One: tax officials suddenly arrived to inspect Shengfei’s accounts and verify taxes.
They wore official uniforms, carried briefcases, and entered one by one. The staff panicked, thinking something serious had happened, even calling the police.
Jiang Luo wasn’t in the office. A colleague instinctively tried to call him, but the tax officers glanced over, and he didn’t dare continue.
“Oh, never mind. You can call. We’re just checking accounts—company head should cooperate,” they said.
When Jiang Luo arrived, four tax officers were reviewing accounts at Xue’s desk.
“Hello,” Jiang Luo greeted calmly, exchanging a firm glance with Xue. Xue signaled silently: nothing to worry about.
Jiang Luo knew it would be fine. Xue’s accounts were always honest, every invoice and shipment recorded clearly, taxes paid fully.
“Hello,” the officers returned. Jiang Luo shook hands with one man.
“What seems to be the issue?”
“Anything I need to cooperate with?”
Jiang Luo’s easygoing demeanor put the officers at ease.
“Just a routine check,” they said.
The audit was quick. Xue’s bookkeeping was impeccable; each transaction matched the delivery slips. Taxes were fully paid.
“All good. Thanks for your cooperation,” the officers said and left.
“Thanks,” Jiang Luo said, handing Xue a cigarette as he escorted them. One tall officer politely declined.
Jiang Luo walked them to the elevator, chatting casually: “Did you happen to audit us today?”
“Something like that. Part of our duties,” one replied.
“You have impressive revenue, contributing a lot of taxes to our district. Even as a new company, very commendable.”
“Thanks. We’ll take our leave—no need to see us out. Go ahead with your work.”
“Do you have a business card?”
Jiang Luo produced one, and the officer returned the favor, writing their office number on the back: “Our tax office. Call if needed. Even if not, feel free to drop by. We support companies paying taxes properly; future policy benefits will prioritize you.”