Matters of private morality hardly compare to matters of interest.
Tonight was a perfect example: in such a setting, with leaders present, the political and business worlds had formed a solid alliance of interests. Everyone had to play their part; no one would dare tear apart the façade of civility.
Jiang Luo understood this, and Huo Zongzuo understood it even better.
Were they embarrassed? Not at all.
Everyone around them was acting, covering for them, and that only showed how high they stood, how much they had, how much influence they wielded—no one wanted to, and no one would, risk offending them.
Except for fools like Wang Chaohai.
It was easy to predict: after tonight, everything would carry on as if nothing had happened. Aside from the Wang family needing to make a clear statement and offer an apology, everyone else would go about their business as usual, just like the world continuing to turn—regardless of what rumors circulated behind closed doors.
Under such circumstances, Jiang Luo could have ignored most things; they wouldn’t affect him, and he wouldn’t dwell on them.
But what truly stirred his heart this time was that it was a private matter that had been exposed.
For many years, he had never been able to tell anyone that he liked Huo Zongzuo, that they were together.
Except for Wang Chuang, he hadn’t once mentioned it to anyone over all these years.
Huo Zongzuo was the same.
In public, they were just very close friends, business partners at most.
In private, behind closed doors, they could be intimate.
Their love had always been hidden in the shadows, as if it could not be seen.
Jiang Luo understood why—he knew it was impossible otherwise. Homosexuality was not accepted by society, and he and Huo Zongzuo couldn’t hold hands openly or be affectionate like a normal couple.
It would look strange, draw surprise, invite whispers and pointing fingers.
He had never minded having to hide to kiss Huo Zongzuo; he understood that the world didn’t revolve around him, that one must learn to navigate tactfully.
But tonight, with everything exposed so blatantly, as those words came through the speakers, Jiang Luo felt pressure and shame. He was uncomfortable—he loved Huo Zongzuo, so why did he feel pressured, why ashamed?
Did he even believe his love for Huo Zongzuo was something to hide?
Did he want to conceal it even from himself?
If he felt this way, was his love for Huo Zongzuo so timid and cowardly?
Huo Zongzuo noticed Jiang Luo’s unusually quiet mood.
He took Jiang Luo’s hand, caressed it, and comforted him.
Near home, Jiang Luo finally held his forehead with his other hand and said coldly: “It’s my fault.”
“I’ve been too reckless in public.”
“That idiot Wang Chaohai was cornered by me.”
“Otherwise, he wouldn’t have done something so brainless in a place like this.”
Jiang Luo foresaw the gossip that would spread tonight. He could remain completely indifferent, but he worried that Huo Zongzuo might be scrutinized or judged because of it.
Huo Zongzuo held his hand quietly. His phone rang—it was the Wang family’s number. He glanced at it and hung up without answering.
As soon as they got home, Jiang Luo turned, grabbed Huo Zongzuo’s arm, and said:
“When those words came through the speakers, I felt pressure, as if I’d been stripped bare in public. Huo Zongzuo…”
He showed a pained, guilty expression he had never revealed before: “I realized for the first time how cowardly I am.”
“Don’t think like that,” Huo Zongzuo said calmly, gently. “Humans are social creatures; it’s easy to be influenced by societal norms.”
“Our thoughts are shaped not just by ourselves, but by culture, genetics, society, and environment.”
“At present, homosexuality is still not widely accepted. It’s normal for you to feel this way.”
He pulled Jiang Luo into an embrace, soothing him: “Scared? Don’t worry. We stand high enough that societal judgment can’t reach us easily.”
“You don’t need to overthink; your feelings and reactions at the time were normal.”
Jiang Luo looked up: “And you? How did you feel?”
Huo Zongzuo didn’t answer.
Jiang Luo guessed: “You were angry?”
“Yes. I wasn’t happy,” Huo Zongzuo admitted.
“I don’t care about the exposure itself, but I don’t want you living under gossip and scrutiny.”
“You know I’ve always said our relationship can’t be casually disclosed. Given the social environment and cultural openness, it wouldn’t be good for either of us.”
“Tonight’s exposure was a provocation. I won’t let it slide.”
Jiang Luo felt a weight in his chest, suffocated, but also enraged at the helplessness: “That damn Wang Chaohai.”
After a pause, he tried to see the positive: “Now that it’s out, can we hold hands in public from now on?”
“You want to, then we do,” Huo Zongzuo replied, kissing his forehead.
Jiang Luo asked: “What are you going to do about the Wang family?”
Then reconsidered: “Actually, it doesn’t matter. After tonight, are we… public?”
“Passive exposure isn’t the same as being public,” Huo Zongzuo said.
“One must acknowledge it themselves—that’s when it’s public.”
Jiang Luo looked at him: “What are you thinking?”
Huo Zongzuo didn’t speak. He held Jiang Luo’s face, gazed into his eyes with deepening warmth and unwavering tenderness.
“You’ve been with me since you were nineteen. I won’t let anyone strip you bare like that in public.”
“Or whisper behind our backs.”
“Give me some time. I’ll make everyone see we’re together, properly.”
“I’ll have the formal proposal, the ceremonial sedan chair, and marry you properly into the family.”
“Wow… so that’s the deal. No wonder his business is so huge—turns out he sleeps in the same bed with Mr. Huo.”
“I was wondering why they lived so close on Wukang Road—one car in the front, one at the back. Turns out it’s just one household with two doors.”
“Disgusting.”
“Don’t say that. We’re on good terms with Jiang Luo. Whether he’s gay or not doesn’t affect us.”
“So all that business and money he has now… it’s thanks to his old flame, huh?”
…
At the bowling alley, a few young heirs were gathered, chatting endlessly without playing.
Nearby, Zhao Mingshi quietly sipped his cola, a faint smile on his lips. He could hear everything—insane, Jiang Luo. Still acting all arrogant?
They were discussing Wang Chaohai.
“Offending two people at once—he’s doomed,” one said.
“Does he have no brain? That day, with leaders present, he did something like that?”
“My dad said if I did something so stupid, he’d disown me.”
…
Suddenly someone said: “Did you guys know?”
“What?”
“That Wang Chaohai was rushed to Japan by his parents—afraid of retaliation.”
“Japan? What a coward.”
“Seriously. How did he not foresee today?”
“Oh, I know. He wanted revenge on Jiang Luo.”
“Last time at Qiu Xin’s birthday, he gambled with Jiang Luo over a million, tried to bluff—and Jiang Luo humiliated him.”
“They’ve been at odds for a while anyway.”
“Damn, for something like this, he dared to act… he’s really brainless.”
…
The young heirs continued chatting. Zhao Mingshi listened, barely suppressing a smile—using a fool like Wang Chaohai to stir up trouble for Jiang Luo was too easy.
Arrogant? You were so arrogant.
Now the world knows you’re gay, and how you got your business and money—still feel arrogant?
And think: you refuse to return to the Zhao family. Let your real parents see the truth about you.
The Zhao family door? After tonight, don’t even think about entering.
Zhao Mingshi leaned back, eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction and restrained malice.
As for him… who would suspect that it was he who encouraged a fool like Wang Chaohai?
No one could ever know.
He curled his lips, confident:
“Gay, Jiang Luo. So be it—let’s open the skylight above your head and expose your hidden self to the sunlight.”
“Feel uncomfortable? You should.”
Zhao Mingshi sipped his cola, utterly content.
A young heir he knew sat down beside him, sighed: “What is even happening?”
He looked at Zhao Mingshi, bruises on his face and forehead, and sighed: “You too… such a good person, how did you end up like this?”