Wang Chuang’s parents got the call from the school while they were still at the factory. They were stunned—and furious. They didn’t even need to think about it; they knew immediately their son must’ve run off with Jiang Luo.
So instead of going home, they marched straight through the factory to find Zhang Xiangping and Jiang Jianmin.
When Jiang Jianmin and Zhang Xiangping heard the news, that was when they finally learned where Jiang Luo had gone—Zhejiang.
Zhang Xiangping hurried to smooth things over, wearing an embarrassed smile. “Mr. and Mrs. Wang, we really didn’t know anything about this.”
“Jiang Luo hasn’t come home for days.”
“You both know… Jiang Luo isn’t actually my son…”
Jiang Jianmin waved a hand impatiently, his tone sharp. “Why come to us? He’s not my kid. My son is a top student at Fudan!”
“Go, go, go—find Jiang Luo’s real parents. Don’t bother me.”
“Hey—what’s with you?”
Wang Chuang’s parents nearly started a full-blown argument with them in the middle of the factory.
In the end, of course the call ended up with Su Lan and Zhao Guangyuan.
The moment they heard Jiang Luo had taken a friend and run off to Zhejiang without a word—claiming they were going there to “do business”—their hearts clenched with worry and fear.
What made it even more infuriating was hearing Jiang Jianmin on the phone, speaking so rudely:
“Your son—you deal with him, alright?”
“If something happens, don’t all come running to me. I’m not his real father!”
“I’m the father of a Fudan high achiever!”
Su Lan’s hands shook around the receiver, trembling with anger.
She had once been disappointed in Jiang Luo too—he had a bad temper, didn’t apply himself, only knew how to hang around dance halls and mingle with all sorts of questionable people.
But after spending more time around Jiang Jianmin and his wife, she finally understood what kind of life Jiang Luo had lived in that household for eighteen years.
The more Su Lan thought about it, the more her heart ached for him.
And now? She couldn’t even find him. He had no money on him. He’d run off to Zhejiang. Just imagining it made her chest tighten—afraid that the boy who grew up with so little affection was now out there suffering all over again.
Su Lan regretted everything—regretted that the day she went to the silk factory’s dorm building, she hadn’t immediately taken him home.
He was the child she had carried and raised, bound to her by eighteen years of affection. But more than anything else, he was her blood—her own flesh.
How could she have been so foolish? How could she have left her real son in the hands of people who didn’t love him?
The way Jiang Jianmin kept bragging “my Fudan son” said everything—Jiang Luo had never been wanted in that house.
His birth parents didn’t bring him home. His adoptive parents didn’t care for him.
How could he not run away?
Su Lan was drowning in regret.
After more than five hours on the train, even Jiang Luo’s backside was going numb—never mind Wang Chuang, who had never traveled so far before.
At the station exit, Jiang Luo bought a local map. Wang Chuang followed behind, carrying both of their bags.
While Jiang Luo studied the map, Wang Chuang looked around curiously. Outside the exit were food stalls, pedicabs, and several little minivan taxis hustling for passengers.
One of them called out, “Where to? Pingyang, Longgang—we go everywhere!”
Jiang Luo didn’t respond yet; Wang Chuang stayed quiet too.
When Jiang Luo folded the map, he walked over to the man who had just been calling out. “Take me to the best hotel in the city. Do you go there?”
The man blinked in surprise, then nodded. “Sure, sure.”
Why turn down business—and it wasn’t far anyway.
“Ten yuan for the two of you,” the man said, holding up a hand.
Jiang Luo didn’t haggle. “Come on,” he said to Wang Chuang.
The man looked pleased and led them toward the van. “Hold on, I’ll pick up two more people. Won’t take long—there are already some in the car.”
As they walked, Wang Chuang leaned in and whispered, “Ten yuan? That’s expensive. Our train tickets weren’t even that much. Why not bargain?”
Jiang Luo said calmly, “Don’t worry about the money.”
“You’ll understand later.”
They boarded, sat together, rested a bit, and soon the driver returned with two more passengers. After stowing their luggage, he climbed in and shut the door, collecting fares one by one.
Jiang Luo handed over the ten yuan. When the driver finished taking money, Jiang Luo casually asked, “Nice van. Newly bought?”
The man puffed up proudly. “Of course. Cost this much.” He held up two fingers. “Got it from Hainan.”
“If I wanted to rent the whole van,” Jiang Luo asked, “how much?”
The driver paused, surprised.
He looked Jiang Luo up and down—well dressed, striking features. Definitely not an ordinary kid.
“You want to rent the whole van?”
“Yes,” Jiang Luo said calmly.
He tapped Wang Chuang’s arm. Wang Chuang quickly pulled a pack of cigarettes from the bag and handed it over. Jiang Luo took one and offered it to the driver.
The driver glanced at the pack—Yuxi. Rich guy, he thought.
“It won’t be cheap,” he warned. “And you’d have to cover my meals.”
“How much?”
The driver held up a finger. “One hundred a day.”
Wang Chuang almost choked. Robbery!
The other passengers had been listening, and several turned to look at them.
Jiang Luo didn’t blink. “Alright. Starting tomorrow, the van is mine. One hundred per day. Meals and cigarettes on me.”
The driver quickly dug into his waist pouch and pulled out a business card. “You’re serious?”
Then, instinctively, “You here on business, young man?”
Jiang Luo took the card, glanced at it. Calmly: “My surname is Jiang. Like ginger.”
The man immediately switched gears. “Ah—Boss Jiang! Here to do business?”
Jiang Luo nodded and pulled something from his pocket—his own business card.
The driver looked down.
General Manager, Shengfei Trading Co., Ltd.
Jiang Luo
The man raised his brows. Really a businessman? Who would’ve guessed—he looks like a student.
He pocketed the card and said, “The best hotel is called the Crown. I’ll drop you there today, and tomorrow morning, eight-thirty, I’ll bring the van over. Alright?”
“One thing,” he added. “I need three hundred as a deposit.”
“Nine-thirty,” Jiang Luo corrected calmly. “And no deposit. You bring the van, I pay for the day. Meals and cigarettes—on me.”
“If that doesn’t work for you, I’ll ask someone else once we reach the Crown.”
Of course the man wouldn’t let such an easy profit go—one hundred a day was nothing to sneeze at.
“Alright! No deposit. One day, one payment.”
He grinned. “Call me Xiao Ma.”
Wang Chuang nearly snorted. Xiao Ma? Brother, you’re old enough to be our dad.
When Jiang Luo was done talking, Wang Chuang nudged him. Where’d the business card come from?
When he asked again with his eyes, Jiang Luo subtly signaled: Fake. Don’t expose it. I’ll explain later.
Soon they arrived at the Crown Hotel. Jiang Luo and Wang Chuang got out. Xiao Ma waved and drove off.
Wang Chuang stood at the entrance, staring inside the glittering lobby like he’d been struck dumb. Holy crap—it’s so bright. That door spins? The place is huge! Look at that chandelier!
The boy was practically vibrating with awe.
Jiang Luo clapped him on the shoulder and guided him through the revolving door.
Inside, Wang Chuang’s eyes went even wider. If he’d read more, he would’ve known the word opulent—but he hadn’t, so he could only stare and whisper “Holy crap” over and over.
The lobby was massive, drenched in gold décor, with a towering ceiling and marble floors. A gigantic crystal chandelier hung from above. Luxurious in every way.
A lobby manager approached with a warm smile. “Good evening, gentlemen. Will you be staying with us, or dining?”
“Staying,” Jiang Luo said.
“Right this way.”
At the front desk, Wang Chuang glanced at the room rates posted on the wall—and nearly choked again.
Even the cheapest room cost 220 yuan per night.