Huo Zongzhuo picked up a camera and captured this peaceful, happy moment.
In Haicheng, at the Zhao family, Zhao Guangqian, who had been away for long periods, had returned. This year, the atmosphere at home was particularly joyful—Huang Bingbing was pregnant.
The family, along with the young couple and Huang Bingbing’s parents and elders, celebrated the Lunar New Year’s Eve together in warmth and laughter.
By the third day of the new year, relatives gathered, and when they learned of Huang Bingbing’s pregnancy, everyone was thrilled, showing all kinds of care and concern.
“A boy or a girl?” someone asked curiously. “Have you checked yet?”
Bing, a doctor, knew well the hospital’s rule against using ultrasound to determine a baby’s sex. When relatives asked, she simply didn’t respond.
Su Lan and Zhao Shuo quickly chimed in: “No need to check. They’re only allowed to have one anyway.”
“Boys or girls, either is fine.”
“Exactly.”
The relatives agreed, saying: “We’ll see when the baby comes—it’ll be a surprise. That’s great.”
They also tactfully avoided mentioning Zhao Mingshi, making sure not to disturb Zhao Guangyuan’s family during the New Year.
They praised Jiang Luo endlessly: “This boy is amazing now! Making huge money! Even better than Guangqian, incredible.”
They reassured Zhao Guangyuan and Su Lan: “The child carries your blood; it was only a matter of time before he came home.”
“Last time, when Zhao Shuo and Bingbing married, he still sent gifts and red envelopes. Shows he still cares about this family.”
Zhao Guangqian agreed.
He had been anxious before, frustrated that Jiang Luo didn’t return home.
After the Zhao Mingshi incident and Zhao Guangyuan’s near-heart attack, Zhao Guangqian realized: take it slow.
Privately, Zhao Guangyuan spoke to Zhao Guangqian about Jiang Luo: “Although he didn’t accept the things we sent to the factory, at least I have my office in Pudong. He’s developing Pudong with Huo Zongzhuo now—I can still look out for him a little.”
“I’ve also asked friends and old classmates in Shenzhen to keep an eye on him.”
Zhao Guangqian: “He’s doing big business now.”
“I’ve heard he’s purchased land all over the country.”
“Where did he get the money? Loans? He couldn’t have gotten that much.”
“It must be Mr. Huo,” Zhao Guangyuan said. “I hear they’re in business together now.”
“I’ve even called Mr. Huo a few times, asking him to help Jiang Luo.”
Zhao Guangqian laughed: “This kid, he’s really something. He has the capital to be arrogant.”
He patted Zhao Guangyuan on the shoulder: “A son like this, you can’t really control him, can’t keep him by your side.”
“Alright, let’s not worry about whether he comes home.”
“When the ancestral tombs smoke green, that’s when such a son appears.”
Zhao Guangyuan laughed and cried at the same time: “Brother, you’ve really come to terms with it?”
“What choice do I have?” Zhao Guangqian said, glaring. “I haven’t forgotten how brazen that kid was when he told me to get lost. Arrogant! Completely arrogant!”
“But he’s succeeded in being arrogant. What can I do?”
On the fifth day of the New Year, the streets were lively. Wang Chuang and Mo Wanzhen went out shopping.
They were walking happily like friends, but once they reached East Nanjing Road, an awkward silence fell. Mo Wanzhen’s hands rested at her sides, walking slowly, eyes scanning the shops. Wang Chuang seemed nervous, glancing around, scratching the back of his head, unsure whether he was embarrassed or guilty.
Finally, when Mo Wanzhen asked if he wanted some candied haw, Wang Chuang grabbed her hand.
Mo Wanzhen froze, her face instantly blushing. Wang Chuang, pretending to be casual, held her hand tightly and said, “Where? Where? Do you want some? I’ll get it for you.”
Mo Wanzhen didn’t answer, lowering her gaze, cheeks red, letting him hold her hand. Wang Chuang stayed quiet for a moment, scratching his head awkwardly.
“Over there,” Mo Wanzhen indicated a direction.
The two walked hand in hand to buy the candied haw together.
In the United States, at a university library, a Chinese-looking student packed up his bag and spoke to Zhao Mingshi across from him: “Mingshi, it’s New Year’s Eve in China today. Aren’t you going back? Not spending it with friends?”
Zhao Mingshi looked up from his book and smiled: “You go ahead, I’ll be here a bit longer.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
He turned toward the window, watching the world outside—New Year’s time again.
He still remembered last year, being kicked out of the Zhao household, cooped up in a hotel room with An Qiao.
He remembered the year before that, celebrating happily with relatives, Zhao Guangqian giving him a generous red envelope of ten thousand yuan.
Thinking back now, it all seemed like a lifetime ago.
How did everything change?
It started when he donated blood at school and mentioned his blood type at home.
If he hadn’t gone home and told Su Lan and their doctor relatives…
If he hadn’t donated blood…
No, there are no “ifs.”
Zhao Mingshi withdrew his gaze and returned to his book.
After the Spring Festival, Bai Ting and Wang Junwei bought a house for Wang Chuang in Shenzhen and rented a shop to continue selling pagers and cellphones.
Though the shop was small, business was good.
Bai Ting and Wang Junwei also bought a new home in Gubei and a Volkswagen. They both learned to drive, taking turns, carrying a big cellphone in daily life, looking every bit the part of store owners—long gone were their days as ordinary workers.
Wang Chuang and Mo Wanzhen confirmed their relationship and officially started dating.
Jiang Luo, pleased to see this, increased their salaries and bonuses, encouraging them to date boldly.
He even told Wang Chuang: “When you get married, I’ll cover the wedding expenses.”
Wang Chuang, bewildered: “I’m dating, and you’re happier than I am?”
Jiang Luo continued: “Later, have twins—a boy and a girl.”
“Yeah, right,” Wang Chuang said, incredulously.
After the New Year, Jiang Luo rushed to Shenzhen on a business trip, preparing for the development of a commercial plot.
His ambitions had long surpassed just the clothing business.
With Huo Zongzhuo as his powerful backing, his steps were bold and decisive.
By June, Jiang Luo’s company formally rebranded as Shengfei Group, expanding into clothing, real estate, automobiles, semiconductors, and computers.
Shengfei and Huo Zongzhuo’s Zhikun Group held cross-shareholdings, with subsidiaries and businesses deeply interconnected.
Both companies moved into the same office building—Shengfei upstairs, Zhikun downstairs.
In October, Huang Bingbing gave birth to a daughter, Zhao Huanyan.
No one notified Jiang Luo, but Secretary Lu delivered a gift and a thick red envelope. Huang Bingbing accepted it, and the Zhao family appreciated Jiang Luo’s thoughtfulness.
That same year, the factory’s old dormitories were slated for demolition.
Families signed, received compensation, and moved out gradually.
Jiang Jianmin’s family was among the last. He complained endlessly to the demolition office before finally signing and taking the money.
Instead of buying a new home, Jiang Jianmin and Zhang Xiangping moved into the cramped old alley where Jiang Jianmin’s parents lived, all crowded together.
In their words, “Why buy a house? Bricks cost two thousand per square meter—only fools buy them. Better to hold the cash.”
Did they really not want a house? Of course they did.
They just couldn’t bear to spend their own money.
After two months squeezed into the old home, their siblings complained, and Jiang Jianmin and Zhang Xiangping had enough.
They hatched a plan: ask Jiang Luo for money.
After all, Jiang Luo had been raised by them for eighteen years—eighteen years!
So one day, Zhang Xiangping and Jiang Jianmin went to Shengfei Factory in Juxiang Town. Seeing the bustling factory, they gritted their teeth, determined to ask Jiang Luo for more money.
But they couldn’t even get in.
The gatekeeper asked: “Who are you? The factory isn’t hiring right now.”
Zhang Xiangping: “We’re the factory manager’s parents! We raised him for eighteen years!”
Jiang Jianmin: “Call him out! How can a son treat his father like this?!”
Blocked at the gate, they shamelessly caused a scene, hoping everyone would know, forcing Jiang Luo to comply.
Unexpectedly, the gatekeeper took a call, then let out the dogs—large countryside wolf dogs and two newly raised German Shepherds with glossy coats.
The dogs chased Zhang Xiangping and Jiang Jianmin, biting. The couple screamed in terror, falling while shouting, “They’re trying to kill us!”
Onlookers watched, amused.
Though they didn’t know the full story, anyone with eyes could tell: “Stop it, parents. You know how good Shengfei Factory treats people.”
“Jiang, the factory manager, doesn’t even mistreat his workers—let alone his parents.”