At the time, he listened to it over and over again, thinking again and again, full of regret, wishing he had someone to love.
Now, in this lifetime, lying in Huo Zongzhuo’s arms, he sang it out softly:
“I admit it was all the moon’s fault,
That night was too beautiful, you were too gentle,
So in that fleeting instant,
All I wanted was to grow old together with you…”
Jiang Luo thought, how wonderful this was.
In this life, he had someone he wanted to grow old with.
How wonderful.
Even if they couldn’t be together, this feeling was beautiful enough.
…………………………………………………………………………….
“Not bad—this place of yours.”
Young Master Zheng Bin had arrived. After touring the new factory and taking in Jiang Luo’s spacious, tastefully decorated office, he nodded in approval again and again, full of praise.
Zheng Bin hadn’t come for work. His purpose was simple: eating, drinking, and having fun.
Normally, back in Haicheng, this young master was always surrounded by friends, playing hard and wild. But no matter how much he played around, he still felt it was more fun hanging out with Jiang Luo. Lately, Jiang Luo had been busy, constantly flying to Shenzhen, so Zheng Bin simply asked his sister for money, got a border pass, and came along too.
With Zheng Bin there—and Wang Chuang keeping them company—the naturally fun-loving Jiang Luo was more than happy to oblige—
The three of them jumped into Jiang Luo’s Bentley and went out to have a blast.
Shenzhen was changing by the day: new buildings everywhere, wide roads, and with so many young people around, there was no shortage of places to have fun.
Jiang Luo drove along broad, newly paved roads, all the windows down. Zheng Bin in the passenger seat and Wang Chuang in the back stuck their heads out, shouting into the wind, drawing plenty of looks from passersby.
And that was nothing compared to the clubs, bars, and karaoke joints—pure indulgence, meeting people, living it up.
The three of them went completely wild at night. Wang Junqing and the others tagging along ate and drank too. Lao Si even followed them into the dance floor, only to be grabbed by the collar and yanked back by Wang Junqing, who flicked him on the head and told him not to forget he was supposed to be a bodyguard.
Rubbing his head, Lao Si said, “What danger could there be in Shenzhen?”
Then he went right back to the booth, twisting his hips to the music while drinking juice.
A few days later, Jiang Luo and the others even met several rich young heirs from Shenzhen at a club.
The group made plans to hang out together—things got even crazier.
“Don’t drink too much.”
Huo Zongzhuo, still in Haicheng, called Jiang Luo. All he heard on the other end was deafening music and noise.
“Huh? What did you say?”
Jiang Luo couldn’t hear him at all.
“Go have fun.”
Huo Zongzhuo smiled and let him be—however Jiang Luo wanted to enjoy himself, he would.
In the middle of the dance floor, Wang Chuang twisted his way closer and shouted to Jiang Luo, “Your mindset’s impressive—getting dumped and still coming out to party!”
“What?”
Jiang Luo couldn’t hear a thing either. The music was too loud, the crowd too dense.
Zheng Bin, dancing with a girl nearby, bounced over and shouted as he danced, “Shenzhen’s more fun than Haicheng!”
“Oh—ho—!”
With the wind blasting his face, Zheng Bin leaned half his body out of the Bentley’s window, spread his arms, and shouted into the night, “Woooo—!”
Driving, Jiang Luo shouted along with Wang Chuang, “Woooo—!”
The three of them howled along to the music in the car:
“Today only this broken shell remains, welcoming glorious years…”
In the night wind was their youthful bravado and reckless vitality.
They even paid extra to rush their permits for Hong Kong and Macau, then took off together to go wild in Hong Kong.
At that time, Hong Kong was something the mainland couldn’t compare to—Victoria Harbour flanked by skyscrapers, Central packed with dense high-rises, hundred-story towers shooting up, elevated roads filled with taxis.
Jiang Luo and the others hired a driver and a convertible. Sitting up front and in the back, cruising the elevated highway at around fifty miles an hour, arms outstretched, shouting at the top of their lungs—every inch the carefree swagger of spoiled rich kids.
Lao Si and the others followed behind in another car, looking less like bodyguards and more like people on vacation.
“Woo—!”
Lao Si and Lao San stuck their arms out the windows too, yelling happily.
They rode double-decker buses through the city, shopped and ate their way through bustling Tsim Sha Tsui, took a cruise in Victoria Harbour, and at night admired the glittering lights on both sides of the water—completely blown away.
Zheng Bin got so hyped that wherever Jiang Luo went, he followed. Jiang Luo stayed in Shenzhen, so did he. Jiang Luo flew back to Haicheng, he followed there too. Back in Haicheng, whenever there was time, they kept partying.
Zheng Bin even said to Jiang Luo, “It’s just more fun hanging out with you. Back in Haicheng I know a few guys who keep asking me to gamble with them—boring as hell.”
As soon as Jiang Luo heard that, he warned him, “Be careful. There are people who specifically target rich kids like you, drag you to card tables, get you gambling, then bleed you dry.”
“Oh, right.”
Zheng Bin immediately got cautious. “Then I won’t go anymore. Anyone trying to scam my money—no thanks.”
One night, Jiang Luo and Zheng Bin were partying and drinking at a bar. Lao Si, Wang Junqing, Lao San, and the others were all there.
While drinking, Wang Junqing suddenly glanced in one direction. The two men who had been standing there immediately turned and disappeared into a dark corner.
“What is it?” Lao San asked, turning around.
“Nothing.”
Not seeing anything suspicious, Wang Junqing withdrew his gaze.
Late at night, back on Wukang Road, Jiang Luo was drunk, barely steady on his feet, humming and laughing as he leaned into Huo Zongzhuo, who had come downstairs to pick him up.
“You drank this much?” Huo Zongzhuo said.
He bent down, scooped Jiang Luo up in his arms, and carried him upstairs.
Jiang Luo rested his head on Huo Zongzhuo’s shoulder and sang, “I admit it was all the moon’s fault…”
He couldn’t even stand properly, let alone shower. Huo Zongzhuo carried him to his own bedroom, laid him on the bed, and took off his shoes.
Jiang Luo mumbled, “Huo Zongzhuo, what will your daughter be named in the future?” Then his head tilted, and he fell asleep.
Huo Zongzhuo chuckled. He leaned down, looked at the young man for a moment, then lowered his head and kissed Jiang Luo on the forehead.
The next morning, Jiang Luo woke up groggy, still hazy with the remnants of alcohol. He opened his eyes, lifted his head, and saw Huo Zongzhuo lying beside him. He immediately snuggled closer, closed his eyes, and went back to sleep—he wasn’t cooking him, after all; surely he was allowed to sleep close.
He wasn’t doing anything else.
The Shengfei factory in Shenzhen gradually got on track. Soon, the bosses in the industrial zone all knew there was a particularly young garment factory owner who had come from Haicheng. His surname was Jiang. He drove a silver Bentley they’d never seen before and lived at Silver Lake—clearly loaded.
Coincidentally, back when Jiang Luo was in Wencheng, he’d known a Boss You. That same Boss You now happened to have a factory in Shenzhen.
Boss You’s factory was in a different industrial zone, not the same one as Shengfei, but he had connections in this area and occasionally came over when something came up.
Boss You first heard about Jiang Luo through someone they both knew. As soon as he heard, the name sounded familiar—he immediately realized who it was and hurriedly called Jiang Luo. The two chatted warmly over their brick-sized mobile phones.
So that day, with Boss You hosting, Jiang Luo attended a dinner with several other bosses from the area.
Seeing Jiang Luo at the table, You Sen was particularly emotional, reminiscing about when they’d done business together in Wencheng.
“It actually hasn’t been that long,” You Sen said, sitting beside Jiang Luo and addressing the others at the table. “But thinking back on it, it feels like ages ago—really makes you sigh.”
“Of course,” another boss said. “Old acquaintances doing business together in Wencheng, then running into each other again here in Shenzhen—it really fits that saying, ‘fated to meet even from a thousand miles away.’”
As he spoke, You Sen raised his glass. “Come, President Jiang.” Jiang Luo and the others raised their glasses too.
And just like that, reconnecting with You Sen, and through him meeting the other bosses at the table, Jiang Luo exchanged business cards with them all.
As they ate and drank, Jiang Luo chatted with You Sen about family matters and business. Only then did You Sen learn that Jiang Luo had two factories in Haicheng and two more in Jiangsu.
They also talked about other bosses they both knew back in Wencheng, especially Zhang Zhiqiang, whom Jiang Luo knew well—the one who ran a doll factory.
“The toy factory’s still running,” Jiang Luo said. “He’s got his own brand now. It’s doing pretty well.”
They’d spoken on the phone just the previous month.
“He’s also in the transformer business now,” Jiang Luo added. “Working with relatives. I hear it’s going pretty well.”
“I know,” You Sen said. “He came by my place before, even toured my factory.”
That was when Jiang Luo learned You Sen was now running an electronics factory in Shenzhen, supplying both domestic and overseas markets.
The two of them chatted as they ate.
As the meal wound down, You Sen went out to settle the bill. Jiang Luo leaned over and asked one of the nearby bosses, “President Chen, what’s going on with Boss You’s son?”
“You don’t know?” the man asked.
Knowing these bosses wouldn’t spread nonsense, Jiang Luo made something up. “I used to be on decent terms with You Junyu. When he came to Haicheng back then, we did some small business together in the local market. Later I switched to clothing, and he seemed to leave Haicheng. We lost touch after that.”
Hearing that Jiang Luo knew You Sen’s son by name and really did seem to know him, the bosses finally said, “Something happened to Little You last Spring Festival.”