Because he wasn’t worth it.
This lifetime…
Lying there, Jiang Luo swung one leg lazily and spoke in his head to the heavens with a roguish tone: See that? Do you see that?
A virgin.
Still a virgin, even now!
So hurry up and change your attitude. Do me a favor and “reward” me with a lover.
This isn’t a request, and it’s not a negotiation. You have to give me one. Got it?
And while he was indulging in this overly dramatic inner monologue, another thought surfaced:
Who was it that reported him to the tax bureau?
His business had only just started. His circle was still small. He hadn’t made many enemies. There were only a handful of people who were openly at odds with him—you could count them on one hand.
Guo Ronghai from Pacific Department Store?
You Junyu, who’d been competing with him over a small market?
Director Liu from Tongcheng, whom he’d told to get lost?
Or Zhao Mingshi?
Thinking it over, Jiang Luo felt any of them were possible.
And no matter who it was, Jiang Luo curled his lips in disdain.
Then, just two days later, one of those very people came knocking.
It was Guo Ronghai from Pacific Department Store.
It turned out Guo Ronghai had taken an interest in the “Vilanido” brand and its business and wanted to open a Vilanido counter inside Pacific Department Store.
Using Pacific’s official channels, Guo Ronghai had the call placed to Jiang Luo’s company. A coworker answered, discussed the basics, and then reported back to Jiang Luo.
“Their side says they’ll cut the entry fee in half,” the coworker said. “They’ll also give us a good floor and a good location. The profit split is negotiable.”
Pacific Department Store, huh.
Jiang Luo snorted inwardly.
An old “friend.”
He told the coworker to continue following up and keep communicating.
Not long after, the coworker relayed another message: the person in charge at Pacific wanted to invite Jiang Luo to a casual dinner.
Dinner?
Jiang Luo laughed quietly. Fine. Dinner it is.
Guo Ronghai’s dinner—of course he’d go join the fun.
The reservation was at Huating, a small private room for six.
That evening, Guo Ronghai arrived just after five. He entered the room, sat down, didn’t even take a sip of water, and immediately checked his watch, thinking about how he’d talk to the owner of Vilanido about brand placement later.
He’d already had someone look into it. This so-called “Vilanido”—the name sounded nice and foreign, but it wasn’t an international brand at all. It was domestic, registered right there in Haicheng, with its factory out in the countryside nearby.
Guo Ronghai looked down on it, frankly. But he couldn’t help it—the boss had come by on an inspection recently and mentioned the brand, asking why Pacific didn’t have it when Yong’an did, and whether Yong’an’s manager had better taste than he did.
At the end of the day, it was just copying designs from foreign brands.
Guo Ronghai felt he had it all figured out.
But the problem was, Vilanido really was selling well lately.
If he didn’t bring it in and the other two malls did, and the boss found out, he’d be scolded for incompetence.
A server bent over to pour water. Leaning back in his chair, Guo Ronghai planned how he’d talk once he met the Vilanido boss.
There was no way he’d beg, flatter, or cajole.
He was the general manager of Pacific Department Store. His status was solid. People begged him—he didn’t beg anyone.
He needed some rhetoric, make the Vilanido boss understand what an honor it was to enter Pacific, get him to lower his posture and obediently come asking for the opportunity.
He wondered what kind of person the boss was.
Local or from out of town?
Guo Ronghai took a sip of water, mulling it over.
Didn’t matter. He’d already taken the initiative to invite him to dinner—that was face enough.
If the guy tried to put on airs, then don’t blame him for—
As he was thinking this, the door opened.
Guo Ronghai paused, set down his glass, and stood up with a smile.
But the moment he looked up and saw who it was, his expression froze.
He…
Him?!
Jiang… Luo?!
Jiang Luo entered alone, looked at him, and smiled. “Manager Guo. We meet again.”
“What are you doing here?”
Guo Ronghai’s expression darkened. Without thinking, he snapped, “Get out. I’ve got business here, guests to receive. What are you doing causing trouble?”
Jiang Luo walked along the round table to the main seat, pulled out a chair, and said unhurriedly, “Didn’t you say you were treating me to dinner, Manager Guo?”
He sat down and looked at him with a faint smile. “Manager Guo really does forget things easily.”
Guo Ronghai’s mind clicked. He immediately realized what that meant. Staring at Jiang Luo in disbelief, he blurted out, “You… you’re the owner of Vilanido?!”
A server came in to pour tea for Jiang Luo. Under the table, Jiang Luo crossed one leg over the other, perfectly at ease. “That’s right.”
Then he added, “I told you before, Manager Guo. I’m right here in Haicheng, doing business in Haicheng. After the first comes the fifteenth, after the fifteenth comes the thirtieth. We were bound to meet again sooner or later.”
He lifted his water glass and gestured at Guo Ronghai, taking a sip. “See? Told you I’d be right.”
“And sure enough, we really are quite ‘fated.’”
When he said the last two words, Jiang Luo slowed his speech and emphasized them slightly.
To Guo Ronghai, it sounded full of mockery.
Guo Ronghai quickly ran through it in his head. Jiang Luo wasn’t the type to bluff—he might really be the Vilanido boss.
His eyes shifted, and he immediately changed tactics, replacing his cold expression with a smile. “Well, well. Xiao Jiang—oh, no, I should say President Jiang now. President Jiang, long time no see. Still as handsome as ever. And now that you’re a boss, you really look the part.”
As he spoke, Guo Ronghai sat down on his own, adopting a calm, composed air.
He called to the server, “Bring the dishes. Start with the cold plates. Everyone’s here.”
“Certainly.”
The server responded and left.
“So you’ve started a company now, Xiao Jiang,” Guo Ronghai said with a casual, chatty smile. “That’s great.”
“Back when we worked together selling dolls, I already knew you were someone special. I knew you’d make something of yourself.”
Jiang Luo smiled too. “Oh?”
“You’re impressive yourself, Manager Guo,” he replied lightly. “A real standout. Otherwise you wouldn’t be running such a big department store.”
As if deliberately pressing down the past and sweeping it aside, he continued pleasantly, “You’re usually so busy, Manager Guo. What brings you to invite me to dinner today?”
He asked, feigning ignorance, “Something you need?”
Those few words made Guo Ronghai feel sick.
In his own mind, he was the general manager of a major department store, not some ordinary person. He didn’t even think much of the brand owners in his mall—how could he possibly think highly of Jiang Luo, this kid who, in his eyes, hadn’t even grown all his hair yet?
He’d tossed out a perfunctory compliment, and now this brat was playing the big boss?
Something you need?
Who the hell did this kid think he was?!
Guo Ronghai stared at Jiang Luo across the small table. The fake smile on his face slowly faded.
He dropped the act. Couldn’t be bothered anymore.
Didn’t want to waste the effort.
Before the food even arrived, he said bluntly, “Jiang Luo, let’s be straightforward.”
“We’ve worked together before. No need to beat around the bush.”
Leaning back in his chair, arrogance creeping onto his face as he crossed his legs, Guo Ronghai continued, “I know why we’re here today. You know it too. Let’s just say it.”
“Vilanido—can it come into Pacific or not? When you entered Yong’an, was it an exclusive deal?”
“If it wasn’t exclusive, I’ll nod my head, give you some face, and you can come to Pacific too.”
“If it was exclusive, forget it. We’ll talk about cooperation another time.”
Jiang Luo’s expression was casual. He didn’t answer. He only said, “Manager Guo said he was treating. Aren’t we even eating?”
……………………………………
Guo Ronghai ignored him. “Be direct. Give me an answer.”
Jiang Luo ignored him right back. “I heard Huating rolled out a new menu. Winter soups. There’s a Buddha Jumps Over the Wall now.”
“Have you tried it, Manager Guo?”
The hell I have.
Guo Ronghai snapped, “If you want to eat, eat later. No rush. This meal’s on me—eat all you want.”
“Jiang Luo, I’m asking you—”
The server knocked and came in with dishes. Only then did Guo Ronghai shut up.
Six cold dishes were set down, followed by two hot ones. The server rotated the glass lazy Susan in the center, adjusting the placement, and asked, “Gentlemen, would you like some alcohol?”
Jiang Luo was seated at the head. He didn’t respond, simply picked up his chopsticks and started eating. The server naturally looked to Guo Ronghai.
Guo Ronghai had brought alcohol—both liquor and wine—but he wasn’t in the mood. He waved his hand. No need.
“Understood.”
The server acknowledged softly.
Just as the server was about to leave, Jiang Luo spoke up. “Open a bottle. White liquor.”
The server paused, then instinctively looked back at Guo Ronghai.
Guo Ronghai frowned, annoyed. He didn’t feel like arguing over it and waved his hand again, letting the server go open it. Fine. Open it. He didn’t care about the cost. He’d brought it, invited the guest—if Jiang Luo wanted to drink, then drink.
At that moment, Guo Ronghai thought of something else. He picked up his chopsticks too, ate, and glanced toward Jiang Luo. “That brand of yours—Vilanido. It’s really yours?”
“Yeah.”
Jiang Luo ate calmly.
“I heard it’s selling well,” Guo Ronghai said. “What’s your daily turnover? Eight thousand yet?”
“First day of opening was already more than that,” Jiang Luo replied flatly.
Guo Ronghai pressed on. “Winter collection’s out now. How much do you make in a day these days?”