His mother immediately understood, both surprised and overjoyed, nodding repeatedly: “Yes, yes, yes! That’s wonderful!”
Jiang Luo hugged her again, holding her close: “From now on, we really are a family.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes, joy spilling over: “This is too wonderful… truly wonderful.”
Huo Zongzhuo stepped forward, joining the embrace, wrapping both Jiang Luo and his mother.
Before long, the overjoyed mother was pacing back and forth in the living room, excitement making her restless—fetching snacks and fruit, murmuring about preparing a big red envelope in advance.
“Mom.”
Huo Zongzhuo gestured for her to sit, taking her hand. She finally settled down.
“When did this happen?” she asked.
“Just the past few days,” Jiang Luo replied, stroking the white cat.
He pouted slightly, playful as ever: “Mom, you don’t even know… he drove me crazy trying to send me to the factory, and then he just whisked me away.”
“Blame him!”
Both his mother and Huo Zongzhuo laughed.
“Yes, blame him. He’s at fault,” his mother agreed.
“From now on, if he ever teases you, tell me—I’ll take care of him,” she said.
Jiang Luo laughed in response.
Exchanging a look with Huo Zongzhuo, he replied to his mother: “If he were to tease me, that would be fine. I’m the one teasing him. You don’t need to intervene, just deal with me.”
The old residence echoed with laughter and happiness again.
Later, Huo Zongzhuo cooked in the kitchen, while Jiang Luo, bouncing around like a little rabbit, helped out.
After the meal, Huo Zongzhuo washed the dishes, and Jiang Luo stayed close, snacking and chatting as usual.
His mother watched from the doorway, eyes full of delight and satisfaction.
When Huo Zongzhuo went upstairs to fetch blankets for sleeping, alone with his mother, she asked seriously: “You didn’t force him, did you?”
Huo Zongzhuo understood her concern and explained: “Others aside, with him, it was never anything like coercion.”
His mother nodded, reassured: “Treat him well, get along nicely. He’s still young, so be considerate.”
Jiang Luo, standing at the door, poked his head in: “Mom, he can’t be too considerate. Really.”
“He’s already sent me to the factory and the villa. If he keeps going, everything he owns will belong to me.”
Sitting on the bed, his mother turned to him with a smile: “If he gives it to you, then take it. Don’t feel sorry for him. He’s been earning since he was sixteen. He’s got money, nothing else matters.”
Jiang Luo looked at Huo Zongzhuo: “Did you hear that?”
Huo Zongzhuo carried the blankets out: “I heard. Everything’s yours.”
Jiang Luo winked mischievously at his mother: “We’ll split it fifty-fifty.”
His mother laughed, genuinely fond of Jiang Luo and his spirited personality.
That night, Jiang Luo and Huo Zongzhuo squeezed onto a one-and-a-half-meter-wide bed.
It felt cramped because Jiang Luo pressed especially close to Huo Zongzhuo, hugging tightly.
They chatted about everything, laughing and joking.
Huo Zongzhuo asked whether Jiang Luo particularly liked Hong Kong. Jiang Luo, not recalling mentioning it while drunk in Changsha, was surprised he knew. He explained: “Yes, I like Hong Kong. Victoria Harbour, Central, Tsim Sha Tsui… I like it all.”
“I love the skyscrapers, the bustling city, especially the night scenes. When the lights come on, it’s stunning.”
“But eventually, cities here will look like that too. I’ll love Haicheng, Shenzhen, Guangzhou just as much.”
In short, what Jiang Luo liked was the word “prosperity.”
Huo Zongzhuo leaned in, pressing his lips gently to Jiang Luo’s forehead: “Since you like it, we’ll buy a place in Hong Kong too. You can stay there when we visit.”
Jiang Luo instinctively asked: “A house in Hong Kong must be expensive, right?”
“Expensive enough that I can’t afford it?” Huo Zongzhuo replied casually, stroking Jiang Luo’s arm: “Where you like, we’ll buy. Pick what you want.”
Jiang Luo raised his eyes and neck, teasing: “Wow… a golden house for my favorite?”
Huo Zongzhuo laughed, eyes closed, lying content like a satisfied lion.
Jiang Luo rested on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, thumping reassuringly.
After more chatting, Jiang Luo asked: “This wooden bed… comfortable?”
Huo Zongzhuo immediately understood. He didn’t speak, his dark eyes watching Jiang Luo.
Jiang Luo kissed his lips, then shifted downward under the blanket, causing it to bulge.
Huo Zongzhuo drew in a long breath, half-closing his eyes, a large lion now. His hand reached under the blanket, cradling Jiang Luo’s head.
Jiang Luo, inexperienced and nervous, coughed when it ended and climbed back up.
Huo Zongzhuo handed him tissues, kissed him with a satisfied expression, and praised him: “Good boy.”
Jiang Luo lowered his head, kissing him deeply in return: “Tasted yourself yet?”
Huo Zongzhuo laughed: “You should let me taste yours.”
Jiang Luo didn’t hold back, straddled his chest: “Come on then.”
Returning from Suzhou, Jiang Luo’s mood was so good that before flying to Shenzhen, he spent as much time as possible being affectionate with Huo Zongzhuo and also called Wang Chuang and Zheng Bin out to have fun.
That day, at karaoke, Zheng Bin came over: “Hey, remember that chubby guy I mentioned who does computers? The one we saw at the chamber banquet?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Before flying to Shenzhen, we have half a day. Bring him over in the afternoon.”
“To your factory?” Jiang Luo asked.
“Or we could meet at a café in the city,” he suggested.
“Better the café,” Zheng Bin decided without hesitation. “Your factory is too far.”
The location was set at his sister’s newly opened café on Huangpu Road, at two in the afternoon.
A few minutes before two, Jiang Luo arrived. On the café’s second-floor terrace overlooking the river, he saw Zheng Bin waving from a seat.
Jiang Luo approached. The other two at the table looked up as he neared—one was the chubby guy from before, and the other, a young woman.
Both stood as Jiang Luo approached.
The chubby man greeted warmly, bowing slightly: “Hello, Mr. Jiang. I’m Ou, call me Xiao Ou.”
The young woman extended her hand calmly: “Mr. Jiang.”
Jiang Luo shook it, expression neutral, but inside he paused—why was she here? Her name was “Xiao Chen”? Her surname was Chen?
Wasn’t she An Qiao? An Qiao, Zhao Mingshi’s wife in his previous life.
Across the table, Ou and “Xiao Chen” introduced the current state of JOVE and their plans for the computer market.
Jiang Luo listened calmly, occasionally glancing at the papers “Xiao Chen” handed him, increasingly puzzled. The mole above her brow confirmed it—this young woman was indeed An Qiao, Zhao Mingshi’s wife in the previous life.
But why was she here? By now, even if she had graduated college, she shouldn’t be working at the planning bureau. She was a Fudan graduate and Zhao Mingshi’s senior.
“Xiao Chen” spoke earnestly, handing over several sheets: “In the future, computers will have extremely broad applications…”