“Alright, I’ve smelled it.”
Huo Zongzhuo forced himself to stay calm.
Jiang Luo withdrew his arm, sniffed it himself, then slipped under the blanket. “We smell the same, huh.”
A completely meaningless remark—yet somehow, this trivial nonsense soothed Huo Zongzhuo’s heart.
Huo Zongzhuo thought: our scents match, we share the same bed… in a way, this is almost like saying, “If we walk through snow together someday, we’ll grow old together in this life.”
The next day, Jiang Luo and Huo Zongzhuo rode together to Hongming. At the factory gate, a car was parked outside. A young, stylish, attractive girl stood beside it.
She seemed to know Jiang Luo’s car and waved, trying to get it to stop.
“Ignore her,” Jiang Luo instructed Lao Si, the driver.
Huo Zongzhuo glanced over as the car drove past the girl. She looked helpless, forced to watch silently.
“You know her? Is she looking for you?” Huo Zongzhuo asked.
“Yeah. Collecting a debt,” Jiang Luo replied casually.
“Debt? Emotional debt?”
“Forget it,” Jiang Luo shrugged. “No time for that.”
He elaborated: “She’s the boss of Chen Xianlong’s company. She wants me to join her, collaborate on a factory, and build a clothing supply chain.”
Huo Zongzhuo raised an eyebrow. “So young, and a woman too?”
“Yep.” Jiang Luo’s tone was indifferent. “Doesn’t matter. I’m too busy to entertain her.”
Huo Zongzhuo didn’t comment. If Jiang Luo wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t care.
At lunch in the factory cafeteria, Huo Zongzhuo finished eating and prepared to leave, busy as ever. Before going, he paused, deciding to tell Jiang Luo something.
The two were leaving the cafeteria, Jiang Luo eating an ice pop while escorting Huo Zongzhuo to the car.
Huo Zongzhuo spoke seriously: “There’s something I think you should know.”
Jiang Luo assumed it was work-related.
Huo Zongzhuo said: “Zhao Guangyuan is hospitalized—heart attack, rescued in time.”
Jiang Luo’s expression immediately dulled. He didn’t react much, silently finishing his ice pop.
Huo Zongzhuo’s tone softened: “Nothing else, just thought you should know.”
Jiang Luo looked up, meeting Huo Zongzhuo’s gaze. “Even if he dies, his funeral… I wouldn’t care. I wouldn’t go.”
“Alright,” Huo Zongzhuo nodded. “I won’t say more. Just letting you know.”
“Mm.” Jiang Luo nodded, not holding it against Huo Zongzhuo.
Zhao Guangyuan was, after all, his biological father. Huo Zongzhuo was aware of their relationship, so it made sense to inform him. Jiang Luo only cared about one thing: “Drive safely.”
Later, Lao Si drove Zhao Guangyuan from the hospital back to the guesthouse to retrieve his own car. Passing the factory gate, Huo Zongzhuo saw the young girl still waiting.
Thinking Jiang Luo might be in the car, she rushed over, waving again. Lao Si ignored her. She had to watch helplessly as the car left. Huo Zongzhuo’s eyes returned to the window, expression unreadable.
In Haicheng, in the hospital’s cardiac ward, Zhao Guangyuan had awakened. He couldn’t eat normally, only liquid food via IV, small sips of rice soup.
Su Lan knelt by the bedside, feeding him while tears fell silently.
Seeing her cry, Zhao Guangyuan’s eyes filled with tears as well.
He was lucky—so lucky.
Having walked through death’s door, he now appreciated how precious life truly was.
Su Lan, crying while feeding him, whispered, “I won’t argue with you again, really.”
Zhao Guangyuan weakly nodded, understanding—he had nearly died, and wouldn’t dare get worked up again.
He gave up trying to control Zhao Shuo and Zhao Mingshi. The kids were grown; better to save his energy and live a few more years.
Let them be.
Halfway through the rice soup, Zhao Guangyuan, gathering strength, whispered: “I dreamt of Jiang Luo.”
“What?” Su Lan leaned closer, confused.
Meanwhile, Jiang Luo stayed in Haimen for a few more days. Yu Dong hadn’t given up, frequently trying to reach him—through bribes, scaling walls, even entering the factory. No matter what, she tried to speak with him.
“Mr. Jiang Luo! Mr. Jiang Luo!”
Even as Lao San and Lao Si escorted her out, she struggled, calling after him: “I just want to treat you to dinner, okay, Mr. Jiang Luo?”
Jiang Luo waved, signaling Wang Junqing and the others to remove her.
Before returning to Haicheng, he met Yu Dong one last time in the private room of the restaurant they had visited before.
“This one’s for you,” Yu Dong said, holding up a wine glass, confident and composed.
Jiang Luo glanced at her and took the cup, giving her face.
The dinner quickly turned into Yu Dong’s “investment pitch.” She barely ate, speaking nonstop about the Yangtze region’s economy and the clothing industry, trying to convince Jiang Luo to cooperate.
“Alright, since you insist, Ms. Yu Dong…” Jiang Luo leaned back, serious. “If we cooperate, how much are you willing to invest?”
Yu Dong paused, thinking, then confidently said, “Money isn’t a problem.”
“I asked how much,” Jiang Luo insisted.
Yu Dong: “The investment for construction…”
“Just a number. Give me a number.”
Yu Dong: “How much do you want me to put in?”
“How much do you think I can afford?” Jiang Luo remained silent, meeting her gaze.
She smiled calmly: “I said, money isn’t a problem. Just a number. As long as you agree to cooperate…”
“Ms. Yu Dong, you can stop. I want a straight answer,” Jiang Luo interrupted, slightly brusque.
Yu Dong, suppressing frustration, said: “Can’t you let me finish?”
“I’m listening,” Jiang Luo replied. Calm, serious, almost solemn. “Basic business courtesy is one thing, but…”
He fixed his gaze on her: “Ms. Yu Dong, you’ve disguised your situation well, but I can’t bear to watch you continue pretending. The more you act, the more you reveal. The longer I stay silent, the worse it makes me look.”
Yu Dong froze, silently staring back.
Jiang Luo, expression neutral, continued: “Ms. Yu Dong, here’s the obvious truth—if you weren’t short on money, had a Singaporean clothing factory background, and could inspect and choose locations at will, why would you need to collaborate with me?”
“You have money, resources, options. You wouldn’t need me, right?”
Yu Dong remained silent, teeth clenched.
Jiang Luo sighed internally, speaking evenly, without arrogance: “Your surname is unique. If your family had a clothing factory in Singapore, someone could verify it. But from what I know, even going back ten years, there’s no Yu family in Singapore’s clothing industry. I don’t know the exact situation, but I guess much of what you told me about your background isn’t true.”
She was just a girl, and Jiang Luo left her face intact—essentially, she was a fraud. She had no money to invest.
Her excuse for buying shares in this shabby Haimen factory? Her father was from Haimen.
But anyone with foreign citizenship wouldn’t linger in their hometown. Buying shares in a broken-down factory? Only reason: she had no money.
Jiang Luo stopped there. Politely, he said: “I understand your difficulties. Business isn’t easy, especially for a young woman alone in Haimen.”
Yu Dong pressed her lips, silent.
Jiang Luo offered genuine friendliness: “If you ever need help, speak up. We can be friends. I’ll help if I can.”