Chapter 88

Huo Zongzhuo came in right after. Watching Jiang Luo clown around, calling out “Mom” and acting cute, he couldn’t help feeling both helpless and amused.

That was exactly why—how could he not like Jiang Luo?

Just that open, straightforward “Mom” went straight into Huo Zongzhuo’s heart and made him indescribably happy.

He knew it too—Jiang Luo was deliberately calling her that to please the old lady.

Jiang Luo wasn’t someone who would flatter just anyone. He was doting on his mother because of him, because of the closeness between them.

So Huo Zongzhuo simply smiled and watched Jiang Luo hug the old lady. The scene was so beautiful he couldn’t bear to interrupt it.

He had never imagined that one day he would bring home a boy he liked, that the boy would hug his mother and call her “Mom,” as if they truly were a family.

Huo Zongzhuo watched quietly, smiling, his gaze soft and gentle.

After letting go of the hug, Jiang Luo immediately started clowning again—

He squatted down in front of Mother and lifted up the things he’d brought.
“Mom, I bought you some fruit.”

“These are oranges.”
“These are apples.”
“Can you chew the apples?”
“If not, that’s okay—I’ll cut them up small for you later.”
“Mom, these are pastries.”

…

Jiang Luo chirped nonstop like a little sparrow. Mother was delighted beyond measure, smiling so wide she couldn’t close her mouth, responding again and again, “I like them, I like them.”

“Good, good—thank you.”

Huo Zongzhuo laughed. Only then did he step forward, pull Jiang Luo up, and nudge him inside. “Alright, little sparrow, go in and sit.”

As he was being pushed along, Jiang Luo craned his neck back toward Mother outside. “Mom, Mom, look at him!”

Mother hurried to stand and followed them in. “Zongzhuo, don’t push him.”

Then she called out cheerfully, “Auntie Zhao, go make some juice for our Jiang Luo.”

The little sparrow had arrived, and the house was full of laughter.

—

Back in Haicheng, Zhao Mingzhi couldn’t smile at all.

Zhao Guangqian had returned, and the moment he saw Zhao Mingzhi, everything he said—explicitly or implicitly—was about sending him back to his biological parents, making it clear he didn’t consider him part of the Zhao family.

If Zhao Guangyuan had dared say something like that, Su Lan would’ve blown up long ago. But the one saying it was Zhao Guangqian—the unquestioned authority of the Zhao family.

The Zhao family business, including the Western-style villa they lived in, had all been earned by Zhao Guangqian traveling all over for years. Forget Zhao Guangyuan arguing back—even Su Lan didn’t dare say much.

Su Lan could only smooth things over, saying it wasn’t even New Year’s Eve yet, coaxing Zhao Guangqian.

Since Zhao Guangqian found Zhao Mingzhi an eyesore, Su Lan and Zhao Shuo didn’t dare speak up. Zhao Mingzhi had no choice but to swallow it and quietly go upstairs.

From his bedroom on the second floor, Zhao Mingzhi listened through the door as Zhao Guangqian scolded Zhao Guangyuan and Su Lan in a loud, steady voice—calling them misguided, saying they didn’t raise their own son but raised someone else’s, and even wanted to call Jiang Luo and personally bring him back.

Zhao Mingzhi even heard Zhao Guangqian say, “So what if you raised him for eighteen years? If he’s not your own, he’s not your own. There’s no logic in this world for raising someone else’s child!”

“Your own child—no matter how bad—is still your blood.”

“If there’s a problem, you close the door and handle it within the family.”

“You could beat him to death and no outsider would dare say a word.”

“Someone else’s kid—if you raise him well, who credits you for it?”

“If you raise him badly, he turns into a white-eyed wolf and ruins your whole family!”

“Close the door—would you even dare hit him?”

“If you beat him to death, you wouldn’t have to pay with your life?!”

Zhao Guangqian’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was deep and authoritative. From the second-floor bedroom, Zhao Mingzhi heard every word clearly.

His face turned green with rage.

What was even worse was that because of Zhao Guangqian’s insistence, Zhao Mingzhi couldn’t even stay in the house.

Zhao Shuo came upstairs, pulled two thousand out of his wallet, handed it to Zhao Mingzhi, and told him to find a hotel nearby.

Zhao Mingzhi wasn’t heartbroken—he was furious. His eyes were red, but he acted the part, putting on a wounded look. “Brother, does this mean I won’t be able to live here anymore?”

“Dad made me move rooms, so I did. Now Uncle’s telling me to leave…”

Zhao Shuo comforted him. “You know my dad’s temper. Don’t take it to heart.”

“Go stay at a hotel for now, get settled. After New Year’s, once he leaves, he won’t be able to control who lives here and who doesn’t.”

Zhao Mingzhi deliberately let tears pool in his eyes. “Brother, I don’t want to go. I can’t bear to leave you all. I want to spend New Year with you.”

Zhao Shuo softened, put an arm around his shoulder, and patted him. “I know. I understand.”

“I’ll figure something out. When the time comes, I’ll bring you back and we’ll spend New Year’s Eve together.”

As he spoke, he took another thousand from his wallet and stuffed it into Zhao Mingzhi’s hand. “Buy whatever you want. Your brother’s got you.”

“If it’s not enough, come ask me again.”

Only then did Zhao Mingzhi feel a bit better.

He went alone to find a hotel. As soon as he entered the room, he picked up the landline and called his girlfriend, coaxing her. “Just tell them there’s something going on at school and you have to come over on short notice.”

“Come on, okay? Fly here. I’ll reimburse your plane ticket.”

“I miss you. Really. I miss you so much.”

“Baby, I love you.”

That night, when the hotel room door opened and a tall, beautiful girl stepped inside, Zhao Mingzhi—who had opened the door—couldn’t wait. He pulled her into his arms, his hands already impatient as he lifted the hem of her clothes and slipped them inside…

Back at the villa, Zhao Guangqian, Zhao Guangyuan, and Su Lan had been talking for a long time about the two children.

Zhao Guangqian hadn’t expected that Jiang Luo had refused to come home since April and hadn’t paid the family any attention at all.

He’d been busy with business outside, always assuming that since conditions at home were good and the silk factory’s conditions were poor, Jiang Luo would definitely be willing to come back.

After dinner, Zhao Guangqian was so troubled that his brows stayed tightly furrowed, cigarette after cigarette burning between his fingers.

On the sofa across the coffee table, Zhao Guangyuan was just as distressed, his face full of worry, sighing again and again.

Su Lan had already cried once; her eyes were swollen and red.

Zhao Shuo sat off to the side, unable to get a word in, his expression equally helpless.

At this point, Zhao Guangqian spoke up. “Did you go over to Jiang Luo’s place?”

Zhao Shuo replied, “We did. He wasn’t there.”

“I asked around at his company. His employees said he let everyone off early for the holidays and won’t be back until after the New Year.”

Zhao Guangqian took a drag from his cigarette, puzzled. “On vacation? Where did he go?”

Zhao Shuo shook his head. “No idea. I asked, but even his people don’t know.”

Zhao Guangqian guessed, “Back to the silk factory? Back to his foster parents, to spend time with them?”

“Unlikely,” Zhao Guangyuan said.

He then brought up the character of Jiang Jianmin and Zhang Xiangping, as well as the earlier incident where Jiang Luo’s truck had been smashed up.

That only made things worse. Zhao Guangqian’s brow furrowed deeply. “With foster parents like that, you still couldn’t get him to come back?”

Are you useless or what?

“He’s been hauling goods, flipping inventory, starting a company all on his own. The two of you are both officials, one big, one small—couldn’t you use your brains? When he needed help, give him money, connections, people. Pull his heart back to this family?”

Are you really that stupid?!

Zhao Guangqian immediately turned to Zhao Shuo. “You have his number? He’s got a cell phone too, right?”

“Call him. Right now.”

“Call him. I’ll talk to him myself.”

Zhao Shuo hesitated, checking the time on his watch. “Dad, it’s pretty late. How about tomorrow?”

“You just got back—why don’t you rest first?”

“Whatever it is, we can talk about it tomorrow.”

Zhao Guangqian snapped at him. “Are you the father, or am I the father? Are you calling or not?”

He shoved his own phone over, leaving no room for argument. “Dial the number. Don’t make me say it a second time.”

With no choice, Zhao Shuo took the phone and keyed in Jiang Luo’s number.

“Beep—beep—”

The call connected.

But no one answered.

Zhao Shuo could only say, “Dad, no one’s picking up.”

“And I already called twice this afternoon.”

“He’s probably on vacation, doesn’t want to answer, just left the phone alone.”

Zhao Guangqian wasn’t so easily brushed off. His voice boomed. “If you can’t reach him by phone, then you should at least know where he is!”

“It’s New Year’s. He’s not coming here, things are bad with his foster parents—where could he possibly go? A temple to burn incense? Off to the U.S. on vacation?!”

The more he talked, the angrier he got. “What kind of parents are you? What kind of older brother are you?!”

“A perfectly good kid, and you let him be out there alone over the holidays?!”

“Every household is reunited, and he’s the only one by himself?!”

“And him—you don’t feel sorry for him at all anymore, do you? Each of you only cares about that one you raised for eighteen years for nothing!”

Zhao Guangqian slammed his broad palm down on the coffee table. “There has never been such a thing as neglecting your own child to take care of someone else’s!”

“Either you go and bring Jiang Luo back so we can spend the New Year together—”

“Or else, nobody celebrates the New Year at all!”

Meanwhile, in Su City, the reason Jiang Luo hadn’t answered any calls was simple: he’d casually tossed his phone into Huo Zongzhuo’s car.

He was on vacation. The company and factory were on hold. Why answer calls at all? Whatever it was could wait until after the New Year.

At Huo Zongzhuo’s place, Jiang Luo was thriving like a fish in water—

Aside from the fruit and pastries he’d bought at the last minute, Jiang Luo had specially brought a winter coat he’d made with his own hands for Huo Zongzhuo’s mother.

He took it out and personally helped her put it on, showering her with sweet words and compliments, making her laugh with delight.

He stayed with her chatting, polished and sociable, jumping from topic to topic, talking about anything and everything. Truly like a little sparrow, chirping nonstop. Huo Zongzhuo’s mother spent the entire afternoon smiling and laughing, happier than she’d been in a long time.