Huo Zongzhuo wasn’t sad. He simply felt that it was a pity.
So much of a pity that even someone as rational as he was couldn’t help thinking: if only he weren’t gay at this moment—or if only Jiang Luo were a girl, and liked men.
Huo Zongzhuo knew perfectly well that there would be no outcome between him and Jiang Luo. None at all.
It was like the loquat tree in the courtyard of the old house. After all these years, it had never borne a single fruit.
But so what?
Huo Zongzhuo looked out the window, sipping his water, and thought silently: a loquat tree that bears no fruit is still alive there—growing branches in spring, shedding leaves in autumn.
He was the same.
Even without an outcome, his life would still move forward, day by day, with time.
This year, he brought Jiang Luo home for the New Year. They were happy. But what about next year? The year after? Five years from now? Ten years from now?
The future was impossible to predict, but he understood one thing clearly: as long as a person was still alive, life had to be lived one day at a time.
No matter what, life would keep passing, and the days would still need to be lived through.
With Jiang Luo—when Jiang Luo was by his side—it was so.
Without Jiang Luo—when Jiang Luo was not by his side—it would still be so.
Perhaps many years later, Jiang Luo would get married, and even have children…
Suddenly, Huo Zongzhuo heard a loud bang bang bang of knocking downstairs.
His thoughts were interrupted. He looked down and saw Jiang Luo at the door, wearing a coat. After knocking, Jiang Luo stepped back a few paces, tilted his head up toward him, smiled, and lifted a hand to wave.
?
Huo Zongzhuo turned and went downstairs to open the door.
When the door opened, he was puzzled about why Jiang Luo had come back and was just about to ask—when he saw Jiang Luo step inside with a pillow hugged to his chest, saying as he walked in, “You asleep? Probably not, right? Let me borrow your bed for a bit.”
Huo Zongzhuo understood, but was still a little confused.
As he closed the door, he asked, “You want to sleep in my room?”
Jiang Luo walked further in and turned his head. “That’s okay, right? It’s fine, isn’t it?”
“Your bed isn’t a single, is it?”
Huo Zongzhuo followed him. “Didn’t sleep well over at the small courtyard?”
Jiang Luo turned his head again. “Why can’t it be because I miss Dad?”
He was carefree about it, heading straight for the stairs, even lifting a hand to beckon. “Come on, come on. Together.”
“I can’t sleep anyway. It’s New Year’s Eve—let’s just stay up.”
“We’ll lie there and chat.”
Then he asked, “Is there still any osmanthus wine at home?”
“Want to drink a bit together?”
Huo Zongzhuo got it. He didn’t want to sleep and couldn’t sleep, so he’d come to him to kill time.
Huo Zongzhuo laughed. “There is. I’ll go get it. You go upstairs—the east room is my bedroom.”
“Okay.”
As Jiang Luo climbed the stairs, he turned his head again. “Mom’s asleep?”
“Yeah.”
When Huo Zongzhuo came upstairs with the wine and glasses, he saw that Jiang Luo had already made himself comfortable on the bed without ceremony, even pulling Huo Zongzhuo’s blanket over himself. Huo Zongzhuo smiled to himself again—he hadn’t been wrong. Still a kid. Only kids did things like this.
Huo Zongzhuo closed the door and handed the wine and glasses to Jiang Luo. Jiang Luo took them, set them on the nightstand, then immediately patted the spot beside him. “Come. Together.”
Huo Zongzhuo walked around from the foot of the bed to the other side and sat down. “A bedtime chat? What do you want to talk about?”
Jiang Luo was pouring the wine and handed him a glass. “Anything. Or we could watch TV.”
“Forget it, it’s too late—nothing’s on anyway. Let’s drink first.”
Jiang Luo leaned back against the headboard, the blanket tucked over his legs. He raised his glass and clinked it with Huo Zongzhuo’s, saying as he drank, “Before today, I’d never had a drink with you.”
Huo Zongzhuo leaned back beside him—not very close, but not far either. The bed was a double, but only about five feet wide, not big.
He turned his head to look at Jiang Luo, holding the osmanthus wine. “We’ll have chances to drink together after the New Year.”
“After the holiday, when we’re back in Haicheng, I’m planning to take you to dinner with some senior people from Bank of China.”
Jiang Luo naturally understood—this was networking, paving the way for him. He smiled quietly and turned his head to tease, “Real dad. Best dad.”
Huo Zongzhuo said patiently, “You know how the business world works. Connections are built over meals and drinks.”
“You can’t just keep your head down and work hard. You have to look up, look around, and meet more people.”
How could Jiang Luo not understand?
He lifted his glass again and clinked it with Huo Zongzhuo’s. “Alright. I’ll listen to you.”
Huo Zongzhuo continued gently, “After the New Year, you should also make more visits to the Juxiang Town government.”
Mm.
Jiang Luo nodded.
“Equipment, expansion, hiring, management—you’ll be busy after the New Year.”
“No matter how busy you are, you still have to take care of relationships.”
“Eat the meals you’re supposed to eat. If you can’t drink, bring someone who can, to drink with you.”
“The town government, the bank, the German company—every side needs to be properly hosted.”
“None of this is trivial.”
“These things determine whether your factory can be set up at all, and if it is, whether it can run smoothly.”
Huo Zongzhuo wasn’t afraid of saying too much—he was only afraid Jiang Luo wouldn’t understand. He went on, “Later on, other local departments—public security, tax, commerce—whether you’ll deal with them or not in the future, you should still get to know them, build connections.”
“I’m not saying to grease palms. At the very least, be familiar faces, polite and courteous.”
“That way, if anything happens at the factory later, you’ll have people you can reach out to.”
Jiang Luo heard it all, took it all in, understood everything.
He drank the osmanthus wine and sighed casually. “So many things. This and that.”
Huo Zongzhuo replied, “There really are quite a few.”
“If you find it troublesome, after the New Year I’ll make time to go with you—have meals with them on your behalf.”
“Daaad~~”
Jiang Luo turned his head. “Worrying about so much at such a young age—aren’t you tired?”
Huo Zongzhuo took it as Jiang Luo being playful.
He curled his lips slightly. “There’s no such thing as tired or not.”
“If you find it troublesome, I’ll do it.”
“Someone has to handle these things.”
Jiang Luo deliberately teased, “Wow, you’re really good to me, huh?”
He looked at him, eyes bright.
Huo Zongzhuo smiled softly and replied, “What else can I do?”
“We call the same person Mom. We spend the New Year together—after the holiday, when something comes up, I can’t just handle my own affairs and leave you to deal with yours.”
“If I don’t take care of it, who will?”
As soon as he finished speaking, Jiang Luo leaned his head into Huo Zongzhuo’s shoulder, rubbing and nudging like a puppy, saying something sharp-mouthed, “You might as well adopt me.”
“Come on, take me in, bring me home and raise me.”
Huo Zongzhuo laughed. “You’re a dog, aren’t you?”
His free hand lifted to block him—but didn’t really block him, just hovered over Jiang Luo’s head, letting him rub against his palm. Jiang Luo’s hair felt like a fluffy puppy’s head, brushing and scratching at his hand again and again, making his palm itch—and his heart itch too.
…………………………………………………………………..
After laughing and messing around for a while, the two continued chatting, about anything and nothing. They drank the osmanthus wine in small sips, treating it like water, completely at ease.
At some point, they ended up under the same blanket. Jiang Luo lay down as well, resting his head on Huo Zongzhuo’s pillow. The pillow he’d brought with him had slipped off the side of the bed and fallen onto the floor.
After finishing one topic, Jiang Luo suddenly had an idea and said to Huo Zongzhuo beside him, “I’ll sing a few songs for you.”
“I sing better than the stars.”
Huo Zongzhuo looked down at him.
Jiang Luo opened his mouth and began to sing in Cantonese:
The cold night wind, alone I look back on the past…
The old me was filled with anger…
False accusations and blame piled up, a stomach full of resentment…
I was overly sensitive to rumors…
Having learned my lessons, guided by the classics,
Now I see through it all and no longer trap myself…
His singing was soft and slow, and he’d been careful not to pick songs from after the ’90s. He sang Leslie Cheung’s “Silence Is Golden.”
He liked this song—a lot. The melody, the lyrics. He felt it spoke to his life and his experiences.
But at this moment, he had no special intent, no urge to pour out his heart. He had simply happened to choose Silence Is Golden.
He was just singing—because he wanted to. Singing for Huo Zongzhuo, on this New Year’s Eve deep into the night, keeping each other company.
He himself was aware that now, his relationship with Huo Zongzhuo was more than just “good.”
Toward Huo Zongzhuo, he had, to some extent, placed emotional investment and reliance.
Jiang Luo sang on:
Confidence fills my heart,
I won’t bother with mockery or questioning.
Let people laugh or curse—
Live freely…
In this life, both body and heart—don’t be trapped anymore. Be as free as possible.
But Jiang Luo didn’t know that him hugging a pillow and knocking on the door that night, saying “together,” lying on the bed, drinking, chatting, fooling around, singing—had stirred such powerful emotions in Huo Zongzhuo’s heart.
Huo Zongzhuo looked down at Jiang Luo. His expression was fully restrained, showing only gentleness, but inside his heart was in turmoil.
He liked Jiang Luo.
Very much.
Extremely much.
How could he be willing to have no outcome with Jiang Luo?
How could he accept that one day Jiang Luo might lie in some girl’s bed, sing to her—and even to their child?
No.
He couldn’t accept it.
He wasn’t willing.
Later, Jiang Luo sang a few more songs, all in Cantonese.
After he finished, Huo Zongzhuo asked him, “You like Cantonese songs?”
“Not really,” Jiang Luo replied.
Ya cásense