As soon as Huo Zongzhuo arrived, the vice president immediately rose from the sofa, laughing heartily as he stepped forward to greet him, shaking his hand with exaggerated courtesy: “President Huo, Zongzhuo! Had I known you’d be here today, I would have waited for you in the lobby downstairs.”
“Your presence honors us; forgive the lack of proper welcome,” Huo Zongzhuo replied, drawing many glances from those in the hall.
Some didn’t recognize him and asked those nearby, “President Qiu is personally receiving him—who is he?”
“You don’t know? That’s Huo Zongzhuo.”
“He bought six plots of land in Pudong all by himself.”
“All the banks in Haicheng were eager to fund him.”
“He even made the news for bringing a Soviet plane back to sell to Chuan City Airlines.”
The first speaker’s eyes widened. “So that’s President Huo!”
In a corner, Zheng Bin and Jiang Luo also turned their heads, curious.
Zheng Bin scoffed. The coal magnate’s son could be arrogant all he wanted; he didn’t care who came or why such a spectacle was being made. He turned back to the table, pushing the cue.
Jiang Luo, however, couldn’t help curling the corner of his lips in amusement—so, Huo’s father had come. Still watching over him, clearly not entirely relaxed.
“Your turn.”
Zheng Bin pushed the cue, missing the shot.
Jiang Luo leaned over the table, aimed at the white ball, and in one smooth stroke, struck the yellow ball, which rolled perfectly into a pocket.
“Not bad,” Zheng Bin exclaimed, impressed. “You play better than me!”
“Try another one, let’s see if it’s luck or skill.”
Jiang Luo casually strolled along the table, approaching the white ball. “If you play against me, you’ll lose.”
Zheng Bin grinned: “Yes! I like this kind of arrogance. Come on, beat me and I’ll let you treat me to dinner tonight!”
Meanwhile, across the hall, Huo Zongzhuo chatted with President Qiu and others, feigning casual attention to the room as his eyes subtly searched for Jiang Luo. Spotting him in the corner playing pool, Huo’s lips curved in a small smile. Jiang Luo had found someone like-minded and was already having fun; Huo could relax.
A minor incident occurred.
Xue Zhizhong, holding a glass of champagne, cheerfully called out, “Zongzhuo! You’re here!” and approached Qiu and the others.
The two people near Qiu exchanged a glance, knowing he had barged in. Their faces remained polite, but inside, they were amused.
Xue Zhizhong didn’t care, introducing himself boldly: “Surname Xue, Xue Baochai’s Xue. Honored to meet you, President Qiu.”
Qiu smiled, extending his hand—he didn’t refuse a polite face. “Ah, so he’s Zongzhuo’s friend.”
“Yes, yes,” Xue replied with a practiced smile.
Huo Zongzhuo said nothing. In the world of prestige and influence, everyone knew the unspoken rules: be courteous, but keep your own counsel. Huo wasn’t concerned about mingling tonight; he was here for Jiang Luo and to make sure he adapted comfortably. Seeing Jiang Luo already playing and enjoying himself, Huo relaxed.
While Huo Zongzhuo and President Qiu exchanged pleasantries and Jiang Luo and Zheng Bin were at the corner pool table, Li Fengrui was laughing with companions elsewhere. One person flattered him, praising Pacific’s overseas luxury brands—beyond what the other three commercial buildings could match. Li Fengrui nodded politely, maintaining a modest demeanor.
When Huo Zongzhuo arrived, Qiu greeted him, causing a stir. Li Fengrui and his circle noticed immediately and naturally began discussing Huo.
Someone asked if Li Fengrui knew Huo Zongzhuo. He replied, “Not yet. Perhaps someday, if the opportunity arises.”
Though present in the same room, he hadn’t noticed Jiang Luo? Of course he had.
But Li Fengrui had his own strategy. He wouldn’t approach Jiang Luo; after all, he was representing the Li family, the local Taiwanese business interests. If Jiang Luo approached him, however, he might introduce him to his circle, confirming him as the young man who had requested a ten-million-yuan loan from Zhongxing Bank—news that had circulated previously. Li Fengrui didn’t consider Jiang Luo a friend.
At the corner, Jiang Luo and Zheng Bin were having a great time, each shot following the other, the balls clacking into pockets with precision.
“Impressive!” Zheng Bin clapped.
The table drew attention from other nearby men, forming a small crowd. Naturally, attention followed.
“What’s going on over there?”
“Looks like someone’s playing pool.”
“Let’s check it out.”
Even President Qiu noticed from afar: “What’s that crowd around?”
“Seems to be a pool game,” someone replied.
“Playing well, it seems, with all these spectators?” Qiu commented.
Huo Zongzhuo, sitting on the sofa, smiled silently.
Xue Zhizhong said, “I’ll go see.”
The pool game was just starting a new round. Jiang Luo opened with a shot—balls scattered and sank with precise accuracy, prompting cheers from the growing crowd.
Li Fengrui, observing for a while, decided to approach. Smiling, he called out, “Jiang Luo, so you came today after all.”
He brushed past Zheng Bin, snatched a cue from his hands, and moved to Jiang Luo: “I’ll play a round with you.”
Zheng Bin was stunned. If the room weren’t so crowded, he would have protested—who was this, stealing my cue?!
Jiang Luo chuckled inwardly, handing his cue to Zheng Bin and fetching a new one for himself.
As expected, Li Fengrui attempted subtle manipulation. Jiang Luo, however, struck the cue, and the crowd around murmured:
“Who’s playing Li Shao with him? Do you know him?”
“Don’t you know? He’s the one who asked Zhongxing Bank for a ten-million-yuan loan.”
Ah, so it was him. The crowd reacted with surprise. The story had clearly spread widely in the business circle.
“So young,” someone remarked.
Zheng Bin, confused, nudged Jiang Luo: “What’s this ten million about?”
“Is ten million worth all this fuss?” Jiang Luo replied coolly, giving Li Fengrui a sidelong glance.
Then he continued, shot after shot, leaving Li Fengrui no chance to play.
Li Fengrui could only stand awkwardly. He suspected Jiang Luo was doing it on purpose but lacked evidence and couldn’t call him out publicly.
Xue Zhizhong, standing nearby, furrowed his brows, thinking. That was the boy he had prepared to give to Huo Zongzhuo last April. The young man requesting ten million from Zhongxing Bank? That was him?
Pondering for a moment, Xue stepped back from the crowd, thinking: Of course he has a father as a director—of course he could secure a bank loan.
Back at the sofa, Xue smiled politely: “Nothing special, just a few people playing pool.” Then added, “One of them is the young man who requested the ten million loan.”
“Oh, him.”
President Qiu chuckled: “Youthful indeed, full of vigor.”
Huo Zongzhuo sipped his champagne, smiling quietly, saying nothing.
Xue Zhizhong sneaked a glance at Huo Zongzhuo, pondering silently.
Qiu whispered to someone nearby: “Once they finish, call them over for a chat.”
He added to Huo Zongzhuo: “I hear that young loan applicant is exceptionally young—truly admirable.”
Huo Zongzhuo smiled faintly: “Let them play—it’s fine, no need to summon them.”
“You’ve already said ‘truly admirable,’ so let the young ones enjoy themselves.”
“Implying I’m old, then.”
Qiu laughed heartily: “Zongzhuo, I heard that clearly.”
In this hall, besides a few, almost everyone was sharp and perceptive. Not that Qiu needed to say it—those around him already understood.
Huo Zongzhuo, always a strategist among strategists, swirled the remaining champagne in his glass and smiled: “In Haicheng, is there anyone left who doesn’t know me, Huo Zongzhuo?”
As for whether they truly knew him—that was for others to guess.