Chapter 11

Jiang Luo got in the car, still feeling baffled.
In this lifetime, Huo Zongzhuo was treating him exceptionally well.

The moment he heard that, he felt great—turns out he’d get taken out for dinner again.

Jiang Luo didn’t bother with the seatbelt. Back in those days, no one checked anyway.

He leaned back in the seat, looked at Huo Zongzhuo, and asked, “Are you passing by? Or did you come just for me?”

Driving, Huo Zongzhuo turned his head slightly to glance at him. “Both.”

“What’re we eating?”

“What do you want?”

Jiang Luo thought for a moment. “Huating.”

Huating was in Xuhui. It had opened back in ’86 and was extremely famous—and luxurious—in Haishi.

In his last life, it took Jiang Luo years of hustling and finally making good money before he started spending and showing off at Huating.

And he really did love the food there.

Huo Zongzhuo had no objections at all.

Someone else might’ve thought Jiang Luo’s request was over the top—first words out of his mouth were Huating.
But the guy lived in the Hilton, drove a BMW—eating at Huating was nothing.

Besides, if he was treating Jiang Luo, of course he’d pick somewhere upscale. He wasn’t about to take him to some street stall.

It was Jiang Luo who suddenly realized he had messed up—his mouth moved faster than his brain. He’d blurted out “Huating” without thinking. He’d forgotten that this life was this life, not the last, and he wasn’t “President Jiang” anymore.

So he paused and added, “Is that okay?”

“If not, we can just pick somewhere else. Anything’s fine. I can eat whatever.”

“You decide.”

They weren’t that close after all. Even if he acted cocky, he wasn’t at the level where he could just demand Huating on the spot.

But Huo Zongzhuo was calm. “Of course it’s fine. Don’t try to save money on my behalf.”

Then he asked, “You like the food there?”

“Never been. Just curious.”

“Then it’s perfect. I’ll take you.”

Huo Zongzhuo kept chatting. “How were the stocks today?”

“All red,” Jiang Luo said lazily.

Huo Zongzhuo’s lips curved. “Sounds like you made a lot.”

Jiang Luo sighed, “Only because you gave me so much to work with.”

“So much?” Huo Zongzhuo said, not showing off, just stating a fact. “Compared to what I bought, yours isn’t much at all.”

Jiang Luo gave a small laugh. Of course it isn’t. You’re Huo Zongzhuo. Compared to you, I’m a sparrow looking up at a phoenix.

They arrived at Huating and took the elevator up.

Just like yesterday, the moment they stepped inside, Jiang Luo lifted his eyes and scanned the place.

With Huating’s reputation and over-the-top luxury, anyone walking in for the first time would gawk and quietly marvel.

But Jiang Luo didn’t show a hint of surprise. His expression was calm, as if he’d long been used to the grandeur.

Huo Zongzhuo noticed—again. He couldn’t figure out why Jiang Luo was so unfazed, but he found it interesting. Jiang Luo really was different from the average boy.

Even when ordering, Jiang Luo flipped through the menu casually, picked items with practiced ease, and even told the waiter not to put scallions in the sautéed loofah with eggs.

“Of course,” the waiter said respectfully and jotted it down.

After the waiter left, Huo Zongzhuo asked, “You don’t like scallions?”

“I eat them.”

Jiang Luo leaned back and took a sip of lemon water. “Just not with loofah.”

It wasn’t even May yet; loofah wasn’t in season. Most households wouldn’t have it this time of year.

Jiang Luo not only ordered it, he had specific instructions about it. With his sharp eyes, Huo Zongzhuo couldn’t help feeling surprised again—where did Jiang Luo’s familiarity come from?

He figured maybe Jiang Luo’s family background wasn’t bad, so eating loofah in April wasn’t anything unusual to him.

But he didn’t ask. He remembered Jiang Luo saying he’d left home and wasn’t on good terms with them, and he wasn’t going to poke at the boy’s wounds.

Still, Huo Zongzhuo quietly made note: Jiang Luo likes loofah.

The moment Zhao Shuo and his group walked into the restaurant, what he saw was this—Jiang Luo sitting casually across from a man in a suit.

Recognizing Jiang Luo, Zhao Shuo’s temper shot up instantly.

He excused himself and headed toward them quickly.

Before he could approach fully, Huo Zongzhuo spotted him, glanced at him, then at Jiang Luo, silently asking with his eyes, You know him?

Jiang Luo turned his head just as Zhao Shuo reached the table.

Zhao Shuo first gave Huo Zongzhuo a quick look, then lowered his eyes to Jiang Luo. He was holding back his anger, restraining himself so he wouldn’t scowl in public. “So you were here.”

He hadn’t lashed out yet; his tone was still mild. “When you leave home, at least tell us. Mom and Dad were worried sick when you didn’t come back.”

Jiang Luo looked up at him without expression.

In his last life, Zhao Shuo couldn’t have despised him more. His heart only had Zhao Mingshi in it and only treated Zhao Mingshi like a little brother.

Jiang Luo tolerated him only because of the family.
But Zhao Shuo had played dirty tricks against him in business again and again.

Seeing him again now, all those memories returned in a flash—Zhao Shuo’s attitude, his disgust, the things he’d done.

Jiang Luo couldn’t show a good face. He couldn’t pretend that being reborn meant instant forgiveness.

He couldn’t forgive.
Not even a little.

So after Zhao Shuo finished speaking so nicely, Jiang Luo simply turned his eyes away, lips pulling slightly in annoyance. He let out a breath and said nothing.

Zhao Shuo saw it and felt ridiculous. What’s with that attitude? Does he HAVE to be like this?

“Jiang Luo,” he said tensely, “I’m talking to you.”

“Forget it.”

Jiang Luo set down his glass, stood up, and turned to Huo Zongzhuo. “I’m not in the mood to eat anymore. You go ahead. I owe you one—next time I’ll treat and apologize properly.”

He was about to leave.

That made Zhao Shuo even angrier. He lost his patience and grabbed Jiang Luo’s arm, not caring about appearances or the stranger standing beside him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“So is it that I’m not expressing myself clearly, or is my attitude the problem? Why are you acting like this?”

Jiang Luo pulled his arm free and stared at him, expression flat.

He hadn’t planned to say anything—he’d already decided this life, he didn’t want anything from “family.”

But hearing Zhao Shuo talk like he was the one wronged made Jiang Luo want to laugh.

“Don’t say that.”

Jiang Luo looked him straight in the eye. “Don’t act like you people actually care about me.”

“Where I go has nothing to do with any of you.”

He turned to leave again.

Zhao Shuo grabbed him, furious. “Jiang Luo! Mom and Dad have been looking for you for days! I’ve been looking for you! And this is your attitude?”

“What do you mean, ‘don’t act like you care’?”

“You disappear without a word, don’t come home, and no one can find you—what exactly are you trying to do?!”

Before Jiang Luo could respond, Huo Zongzhuo stood up and stepped forward, asking Jiang Luo first, “He’s family?”

Then, politely but firmly, he told Zhao Shuo, “If you can’t control your temper, you shouldn’t be talking like this in public.”

He reminded him, “This is a restaurant.”

Zhao Shuo frowned at Huo Zongzhuo, then snapped at Jiang Luo, “And who is he supposed to be?”

His tone grew sharper. “Are you either partying in clubs or hanging around with shady people now?”

From Zhao Shuo’s perspective, even if Huo Zongzhuo looked refined and well-bred, he didn’t believe someone like that was someone Jiang Luo should be involved with.

In his mind, he suspected Jiang Luo of doing something improper with such people—though he hadn’t yet figured out which flavor of improper.

Huo Zongzhuo’s expression darkened instantly.

Jiang Luo let out a short laugh. “Clubbing? Shady?”

He nodded. “Yeah. That’s exactly how you see me. Exactly what you think of me.”

His tone turned cutting. “After all, I’m not your perfect little brother who got into Fudan.”

“I’m just some good-for-nothing delinquent, right?”

“Jiang Luo!”

Zhao Shuo completely lost it. He reached for Jiang Luo’s collar, but Jiang Luo slapped his hand away—and before Zhao Shuo could grab him again, Huo Zongzhuo caught Zhao Shuo’s arm and pulled him aside, stepping between them.

Huo Zongzhuo’s face hardened. “This is a public place. Watch yourself.”

Other tables had long noticed them, and the restaurant manager was already hurrying over.

Zhao Shuo didn’t want to make a scene—he had serious business at Huating today, he wasn’t here to fight.
But the way Jiang Luo was acting drove him mad, especially after Jiang Luo brought up Zhao Mingshi.

Holding back his anger, Zhao Shuo pointed at Jiang Luo. “So you really think Mingming owes you!”

“Oh dear—oh dear—gentlemen, what’s going on here?”
The manager rushed over, anxious. “Let’s calm down, calm down. Please don’t fight.”

“Tell him that,” Huo Zongzhuo said dryly.

He gave Zhao Shuo a final glance, then turned and lightly placed a hand on Jiang Luo’s shoulder. “Come on. I’ll take you somewhere else.”

Jiang Luo didn’t look at Zhao Shuo again and walked away.

Zhao Shuo went to follow, livid. “You’re not leaving! You’re coming home with me today! You—”

The restaurant manager blocked him. “Sir, please, please—calm down. Don’t be impulsive. If anything is wrong, tell me and I’ll help.”

And so, with the manager trying to stop him and Zhao Shuo unable to shout and make a scene, Jiang Luo and Huo Zongzhuo walked out together while Zhao Shuo kept insisting the manager move aside, saying he knew the two who had just left and—on and on.