“Why the hell do you have time to run to the hospital every day, but can’t spend more time at the company or the factory?”
Jiang Luo scolded: “I’m lying here, Old Zhang is lying there, and you’re running to the hospital—who’s taking care of the factory? You want the town government to do it?”
Wang Chuang’s parents also came, carrying big bags, fussing over him with constant concern.
Jiang Luo didn’t hold back: “Auntie, just seeing you makes me crave your braised chicken and red-cooked pork.”
Bai Ting immediately replied: “I’ll make it as soon as I get home, and send it over tonight. You can eat as much as you want.”
Xiao Lu came too. After expressing shock and sympathy over Jiang Luo’s accident, he started venting about Zhang Ningfu’s situation.
He said Zhang Ningfu was gradually more conscious during the day, but also growing withdrawn and silent. Aside from brief interactions with him or colleagues visiting from the factory, he rarely spoke—especially when his wife and son were around.
“You don’t know,” Xiao Lu said indignantly, “my aunt and brother constantly talk about getting compensation from the factory in front of my uncle.”
“My uncle clearly hates hearing it, but they still talk.”
“He’s been in the hospital so long, and apart from a couple of chicken soups, his family hasn’t brought anything. It’s us colleagues who rotate bringing meals every day.”
“They probably see us bringing meals and just use that as an excuse to do nothing.”
“Besides them mother and son, no other relatives have come, and they don’t even bring the kid.”
“My uncle once said he missed the child, wanted to see her, but my aunt said she’s too young, and even if she comes, it won’t help—so no visit.”
“I swear, seeing them in the hospital now just makes me angry.”
Jiang Luo, lying in bed eating imported bananas Huo Zongzuo handed him, said: “Don’t worry about it. Let your uncle take it. Isn’t he devoted to his wife, son, and family, willing to work like a horse?”
“Let him do it. I want to see if after this, he’s still willing to be that ‘loyal ox’…”
He glanced at Huo Zongzuo.
“Ox… what was it again?”
Huo Zongzuo: “Bowing his head, willing to be the ox for the young.”
Jiang Luo: “Right, bowing his head, willing to be the ox for the young.”
Zhao Guangyuan also showed up. A few days prior, he had run into the town mayor of Juxiang while attending a city meeting and learned about Jiang Luo’s accident. He rushed to the hospital, looking everywhere for Jiang Luo. But standing at the ward door, he hesitated—would Jiang Luo want to see him? Be willing? Happy to see him?
Hearing laughter and chatter from inside, Zhao Guangyuan sat on a chair outside for a while, sighed, and left.
Soon after, he returned, leaving a fruit basket with the nurses, saying his surname was Zhao, and asked them to give it to Jiang Luo.
The nurses were busy, and the basket sat at the desk for a while before someone finally delivered it to the private foreign-patient ward.
“He said his surname is Zhao.”
Jiang Luo realized it was Zhao Guangyuan, didn’t take it, and had the nurses distribute it elsewhere.
“Thanks anyway.”
The nurses, unable to insist further, smiled and accepted it.
Jiang Luo acted as if nothing happened, carrying on with his own business.
By evening, it was just Jiang Luo and Huo Zongzuo. Jiang Luo had washed up and leaned against the bed. Huo Zongzuo sat beside him and eventually mentioned Zhao Guangyuan.
“Objectively,” Huo Zongzuo said, “the Zhao family’s background is good. If you were willing to return, it could help your career.”
He added: “I’m not trying to convince you for Zhao Guangyuan—just stating the reality of what benefits you could gain from the Zhao family.”
“I know what you mean,” Jiang Luo said, swinging his leg casually. “For my whole life—at least this lifetime—I will never recognize them. I will never go back to the Zhao family.”
“Can I know why? What’s your thinking?”
Huo Zongzuo knew there must be a reason Jiang Luo refused.
Jiang Luo laughed, jokingly: “Because I bounced out of a rock. I’m not really a Zhao—I was originally a Sun, Sun Wukong’s Sun.”
Huo Zongzuo chuckled, dropping the topic.
Jiang Luo asked: “Hey, why don’t you have a girlfriend at your age?”
“You can’t be serious?” Jiang Luo finally voiced his long-standing curiosity.
Huo Zongzuo was speechless.
“What do you mean, can’t?”
Jiang Luo whispered: “Impotent? Premature…?”
“…?”
Huo Zongzuo grabbed the back of Jiang Luo’s neck, teeth grinding: “I’ve spoiled you too much, haven’t I?”
Jiang Luo shrank back, laughing: “That’s why I asked.”
“Why haven’t you had a girlfriend?”
“High standards?”
“Looking for a beauty?”
“Someone qualified, capable, worthy of you?”
Huo Zongzuo applied slight pressure with his hand: “Keep talking.”
How could Huo Zongzuo answer? Admit he liked men—reveal he was gay?
When he was younger, he had confided in a friend, only to be rejected and seen as abnormal. From then on, they became strangers.
With his social experience, Huo Zongzuo knew he couldn’t casually confess, especially to Jiang Luo. He liked Jiang Luo and couldn’t bear rejection or disgust.
So he had kept his orientation secret all these years, and would continue to do so.
Jiang Luo laughed: “Alright, alright, I won’t ask more.”
Huo Zongzuo released him, but Jiang Luo nudged him with his shoulder: “Seriously, you don’t have some untreatable problem, do you?”
“If you did, tell me—I’ll find some remedy for you. Some home remedy or folk trick will work.”
“Don’t… you know, avoid it. Don’t be afraid of doctors.”
Huo Zongzuo: “Avoiding treatment out of fear?”
“Yes, avoiding treatment.”
“Don’t avoid it—if it needs treatment, it should be treated.”
Huo Zongzuo thought silently: nothing to treat. He pinched Jiang Luo’s chin: “Treat what? You’re fine.”
“No woman is a disease?”
Jiang Luo laughed, dodging and swatting Huo Zongzuo’s hand: “You know that’s not what I mean.”
“I care about you.”
Huo Zongzuo snorted: “Why not just care about your lower half?”
“Impotence, premature….”
Jiang Luo: “It’s serious—important for men, a huge deal.”
Huo Zongzuo, at a loss, reached to tickle Jiang Luo’s side.
“Hey!”
Jiang Luo laughed, dodging: “My arm! The cast will fall off!”
That day, Vice Mayor Wu Dayong of Juxiang Town had time to visit Jiang Luo. Huo Zongzuo had stepped out to buy snacks.
Wu Dayong sat at the bedside, chatting casually about Jiang Luo’s condition, the accident, and the factory’s situation.
After a while, Wu Dayong prepared to leave. Jiang Luo suddenly asked: if the government provided support or funding for private businesses, would it go through public-to-public accounts, or could it go through personal accounts?
Wu Dayong didn’t understand the purpose of the question, thinking Jiang Luo had some motive.
“I’m asking for a friend doing business elsewhere. There’s a local policy that might help him, and he wants to see if he qualifies.”
“Oh, I see.”
Wu Dayong thought for a moment: “If it’s a support policy, like funding, it’s definitely public-to-public.”
“Government money goes through government accounts. It can’t be sent to a private individual, then funneled into a business or a private owner’s account.”
Jiang Luo confirmed: “Absolutely impossible?”
Wu Dayong: “Absolutely impossible. Sending government funds to a private individual is illegal.”
“Got it, thanks. By the way…”
Jiang Luo remembered something else: “Do you know someone named ‘Yu Dong’?”
“Dong as in east, Yu is the character under Wu.”
Wu Dayong barely thought: “Don’t know him. Why?”
“Nothing.” Jiang Luo made an excuse: “A friend asked me to find him. Thought you might know someone, so I asked.”
Wu Dayong, on good terms with Jiang Luo, asked his secretary: “In our town, or among people I know, anyone named Yu Dong?”
The secretary thought a moment and shook her head: “Unusual name. If I knew, I’d remember. Don’t know anyone.”
“Just asking casually,” Jiang Luo waved it off. “No big deal if not.”