As expected, once he hung up the phone, Jiang Luo’s expression returned to normal. He lifted his bowl of porridge with a sigh. “What can you do? You’re not going to scold anyone, so I have to do it myself.”
“Steel rods gone missing?”
Huo Zongzuo’s tone was casual, as if talking about someone else’s construction site and their steel rods.
“What’s missing?”
Jiang Luo didn’t take it seriously. In his mind, it was clearly just: “Our own rats. They’ve eaten too much oil; now they’re getting bolder.”
“Don’t worry. They won’t be stealing for long—I’ve taken care of it.”
Suddenly remembering something, he added, “Oh, by the way, I’ve invited Zheng Bin tonight.”
“They’re having a party, and they called me over to join the fun.”
“Don’t drink too much,” Huo Zongzuo reminded him.
“Do you think I’d dare?” Jiang Luo glared at him.
The last time he drank too much, Huo Zongzuo had pinned him down all night. He almost lost his life, and his throat was completely hoarse the next day.
“Oh, right,” Jiang Luo remembered again. “You’ll need to take the Bank of China manager out for dinner sometime.”
“I called him yesterday, arranged for internal procurement to use JOVE computers.”
“That favor doesn’t need to be repaid immediately, but the dinner still needs to happen.”
“Alright.” Huo Zongzuo agreed casually—it wasn’t anything urgent.
“Have fun tonight.”
That evening, in a massive, villa-like mansion in Haicheng, a group of young heirs and daughters gathered, eating, drinking, and enjoying themselves.
These were all children of wealthy families from Haicheng and Shenzhen, who had grown up with Jiang Luo and Zheng Bin. Now, some were married, some studying abroad, some working. They could no longer live with the same carefree, rebellious freedom, but when they gathered, there was still endless chatter and unending fun.
Nowadays, their conversations often revealed insider news from various industries.
For instance, at that moment, sitting with Zheng Bin, a familiar young master said: “I recently met someone in New York. He’s from our country and already has a green card. Do you know how incredible he is?”
“He developed some software. The buyout price was $3.5 million, sold to Microsoft.”
“He also created some kind of stock analysis tool, sold it to Wall Street, and made hundreds of thousands of dollars at once.”
“He’s now not only popular on Wall Street but was also headhunted by Microsoft for a high price. Apparently, he’s amazing.”
“What’s Microsoft? Some kind of soft breeze?”
Zheng Bin still knew nothing about business, as before. But since he had been following Jiang Luo around for investments, he already had a net worth beyond what ordinary people could imagine.
“It’s a company! They do computers and software!”
The young master rolled his eyes. “Read the news more, will you?”
He continued, “This person recently returned to China. Next time, I’ll bring him along so everyone can meet him.”
He even specifically said to Jiang Luo: “You invested in a computer company—this person might be useful to you.”
“Whether he’s useful, we’ll see,” Jiang Luo replied lazily. “Thanks anyway.”
“For what?”
The young master put a hand on Jiang Luo’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “Last time, when my family wanted to start an international school, you helped connect with the Education Bureau. You’re one of us; easy favors.”
“Yanyan!”
On the weekend, Zhao Shuo took his daughter to his wife Bing Bing’s hospital. They played in the park across from the hospital while waiting for her to finish work.
The little girl bounced happily, running up and down and playing on the slides.
“Slow down,” Zhao Shuo said softly, watching his daughter closely to prevent any falls or injuries.
At that moment, a familiar, calm male voice sounded from behind: “Ge.”
Zhao Shuo froze, turned around, and saw a man with a face he knew well—but now mature and composed, with a new hairstyle, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, smiling quietly at him.
Zhao Mingshi?
Zhao Shuo was very surprised.
“Ge,” Zhao Mingshi smiled.
Suddenly, Zhao Huanyan ran over and hugged Zhao Shuo’s leg, curiously looking at Zhao Mingshi. “Daddy, who is he?”
Zhao Shuo looked at his daughter, then at Zhao Mingshi, unsure what to say.
The little girl stared at Zhao Mingshi. He smiled and said to Zhao Shuo: “She’s grown so much, really pretty—looks like you and also like your wife.”
Zhao Shuo said nothing. He crouched down, gently touched his daughter’s face, and said softly, “Yanyan, go play for a while, okay? Don’t run too far. Daddy is right here and can see you.”
“If you need to go to the bathroom, come tell Daddy, understand?”
“Okay!”
The little girl obediently bounced away to continue on the slide.
Zhao Shuo and Zhao Mingshi sat together near a flowerbed, not far from the playground. Once inseparable brothers, now distant, with a mood neither awkward nor easy.
Zhao Shuo spoke first: “When did you come back?”
“Last week.”
Zhao Mingshi’s voice was calm, long shed of youthful naivety.
Zhao Shuo was also composed. Over the years, though he wasn’t completely unaware of Zhao Mingshi, the brothers had little contact, living far apart, with no emotional exchange.
“Good to have you back,” Zhao Shuo said politely.
Like hosting a guest, he added, “Any plans now that you’re back?”
“Didn’t you already get the green card?”
“Just planning when to go back to the U.S.”
“Ge.”
Zhao Mingshi turned to him, the expression behind his glasses tinged with guilt, voice soft: “You’re still mad at me, aren’t you?”
“I know—it’s all my fault. I was too young and didn’t understand anything. Blame me.”
“I’m sorry, Ge.”
Hearing this, Zhao Shuo’s heart stirred, unable to calm for a long time.
This mature man, quietly saying sorry, was once his most beloved and intimate younger brother.
……………………………
Jiang Luo never expected to see Zhao Mingshi again—someone he had completely forgotten, with no news for years.
It was at a small, government-hosted internal conference, focused on tech companies in computers, chips, and related fields.
During the meeting, officials encouraged companies to develop tech. One leader hosting the meeting specifically mentioned inviting a Chinese executive and engineer from Microsoft in the U.S.
Zhao Mingshi went on stage amidst sparse applause from the audience, talking about technological and software development in the U.S.
Jiang Luo, sitting in the audience, was originally flipping through his phone bored. When the applause rose, he lifted his eyes and saw Zhao Mingshi.
Naturally, he was surprised.
Zhao Mingshi looked much more mature, in both face and temperament. He wore a tailored suit, looking refined and composed.
He also wore glasses, giving him a scholarly air. His speech was logical, articulate, measured, clearly accustomed to large audiences.
Jiang Luo immediately connected this to the young master who had mentioned the “genius” selling software to Microsoft and Wall Street. He had an idea who Zhao Mingshi was.
But he felt nothing in particular—no nostalgia, no excessive thoughts.
For him, Zhao Mingshi was like air—he paid him no attention.
So when the meeting ended, Jiang Luo left directly.
As he left, Zhao Mingshi, chatting with a few leaders and bosses, looked up and noticed Jiang Luo’s departing figure.
In business circles, someone quickly said: “That’s General Jiang, young master Jiang—famous in Haicheng.”
Zhao Mingshi smiled: “I know. We met a few times when I was a student.”
“Oh?”
The surrounding people were surprised.
Zhao Mingshi smiled gently, polite and refined: “I’m from Haicheng as well. First went to Fudan, then studied abroad.”
“Ohhh!”
The crowd laughed: “So he’s from Haicheng!”
As Jiang Luo’s deep red Rolls-Royce drove away, Zhao Mingshi emerged from the building.
His expression was calm. He watched the car go without revealing any emotion.
He was no longer the student he once was—no jealousy, no resentment.
Pressing the car key, a BMW on the roadside unlocked. Zhao Mingshi got in and drove off in another direction—back to China, naturally, with things to do.
In a hotel corridor, Zhao Shuo walked alongside a hesitant Su Lan.
Su Lan was nervous and reminded Zhao Shuo: “Don’t mention this to Bing Bing yet.”
“You know, back then, your marriage…”
Before she could finish, Zhao Shuo said, “I know. I won’t bring it up.”
At a room door, Zhao Shuo was about to knock when he noticed it was slightly ajar. He pushed it open and gestured for Su Lan to go first.
She entered, adjusting her expression to avoid showing too much emotion.
Just inside the suite’s living room, the now-mature Zhao Mingshi quickly approached and knelt: “Mom!”