He didn’t play dumb, just countered with a question: “When you’re driving down the road, do you hand out jackets to whoever’s sleeping on the street?”
“So charitable?”
“Yep.”
Huo Zongzhuo’s mood was clearly good, his smile widening. Teasingly, he added, “I’m a generous tycoon.”
Then he offered, “How about some juice to sober up? Right here in the hotel lobby.”
“Sure.”
Jiang Luo nodded. “Can’t refuse such courtesy.”
Huo Zongzhuo glanced aside. “With your friend, too?”
“No need.”
Jiang Luo withdrew his elbow from the window frame and suggested, “You park the car. My friend and I will walk back. See you in the hotel lobby.”
“Fine. See you soon.”
“See you.”
Jiang Luo straightened up.
After the car drove off, walking toward the hotel, Wang Chuang’s curiosity got the better of him. “Who was that?” he asked.
“And man, he looked so proper… driving a car, obviously a big boss.”
Jiang Luo watched the car vanish. “He’s more than just a big boss.”
“Who?”
Wang Chuang nudged Jiang Luo’s neck again.
“Huo Zongzhuo.”
Jiang Luo tapped Wang Chuang’s hand with the back of his own: “Remember this—don’t offend him, no matter what.”
That was all he said.
Wang Chuang’s eyes widened. “Wow, he’s that powerful?”
“And it’s you, too! You’re something else—knowing someone that impressive.”
Jiang Luo laughed, pushing Wang Chuang’s face away. “Smooth talker, huh?”
Teasingly: “A meal, some drinks, and now you’re feeling high, huh?”
“I’m flying~~ I’m soaring~~”
Wang Chuang flailed his arms up and down, hopping in place.
“Get lost,” Jiang Luo scolded with a laugh.
By the time they reached the hotel lobby, Huo Zongzhuo was already there, instructing the lobby manager to serve a few glasses of freshly squeezed juice.
The juice arrived quickly, and the three of them sank into the lobby sofas. After a couple of sips, Wang Chuang started to feel woozy. The alcohol hit him hard. He clutched his head: “Can’t… I can’t… I feel like throwing up.”
He went upstairs, leaving Jiang Luo and Huo Zongzhuo alone.
Jiang Luo felt a bit dizzy too; after all, his eighteen-year-old body in this life couldn’t handle much alcohol, especially strong spirits. Luckily, he hadn’t drunk as much as Wang Chuang, who’d downed every toast offered.
Leaning back into the sofa, half-sunk into its cushions, Jiang Luo quietly sipped juice to sober up.
Huo Zongzhuo sat across from him, watching the young man with a calm, gentle expression.
After a moment, Huo Zongzhuo spoke first. “You didn’t come to Wencheng just to play around, right?”
Guessing, he asked, “Here on business?”
“Yeah.”
Jiang Luo placed his juice on the coffee table, with nothing to hide.
Huo Zongzhuo: “What kind of business?”
Jiang Luo answered directly, “I found a department store in Haicheng. I buy goods from Wencheng for them and make a profit on the price difference.”
Huo Zongzhuo immediately understood that this “goods” couldn’t be ordinary items—at the very least, they were from Hong Kong or Taiwan.
Only with this kind of “goods” could Jiang Luo travel to Wencheng, work with local factories, and make a middleman’s profit.
True to form, Huo Zongzhuo quickly figured out the nature of Jiang Luo’s business.
He didn’t say much, only offering a slight warning: “Not exactly legitimate work—don’t linger too long. There’s a risk of being investigated, and it’s easy for someone to replace you.”
He added, “The authorities are cracking down on counterfeit goods, especially low-voltage electrical items in Yueqing. It’s getting serious. Be careful.”
Jiang Luo leaned back, calm: “I know.”
Then he shifted the topic: “What about you? Any business here?”
If he guessed right, Huo Zongzhuo was already preparing to catch a flight.
Huo Zongzhuo didn’t answer directly, but instead said, “You and your friend—want to come work with me?”
Jiang Luo couldn’t help but laugh at that.
For the Nth time, he thought to himself: being reborn in this life came with perks—Huo Zongzhuo had even asked him if he wanted to work alongside him.
Seeing Jiang Luo smile, Huo Zongzhuo crossed his legs and said calmly, “Working with me would obviously earn you more than what you’re making now.”
“I’m planning to bring an aircraft from the Soviet Union soon and sell it to Chuan Cheng Airlines.”
“If you’re interested, think you can handle it—work with me.”
“If this deal goes through, I can’t promise anything else, but the money will be guaranteed.”
Jiang Luo finished laughing, didn’t answer directly, and instead asked plainly: “Why do you want me?”
Huo Zongzhuo looked him in the eye: “You’re smart, quick-witted. I need people like you around me.”
Jiang Luo sat up, picked up his juice from the coffee table, raised it toward Huo Zongzhuo, and said, “I’ll take that as a compliment. Thanks for thinking so highly of me… and for offering the olive branch.”
But—
Leaning back with the juice, he curved a confident, composed smirk. “I don’t work for anyone. No one.”
“My path, I walk it myself.”
“My business, I run it myself too.”
Huo Zongzhuo was somewhat surprised by this answer.
Countless people around him would have jumped at the chance to work with him.
Even seasoned Wencheng businessmen like Xue Zhizhong, who had already made a name for themselves, wanted a slice of his ventures.
Jiang Luo, however, was the first person Huo Zongzhuo had personally invited—and he had clearly refused.
“Why?”
Huo Zongzhuo studied the young man. “Doing business isn’t like going to school. Sure, right now you can make money doing anything. But in business, having a mentor is far better than fumbling around on your own.”
He even suggested, “If you want to work independently, wait until you’re older, with more experience. Until then, wouldn’t having guidance be better than blindly groping along?”
“Who said I’m ‘blindly groping’?”
Jiang Luo sipped his juice, a bit audacious, blunt even.
Others might have bristled at such audacity—but Huo Zongzhuo didn’t. In fact, he liked that boldness and admired it greatly.
Huo Zongzhuo rephrased: “Alright, ‘inexperienced,’ then.”
Jiang Luo: “Experience comes in time.”
Huo Zongzhuo confirmed once more: “Still not coming to work with me?”
Jiang Luo finished his juice, placed the glass on the table, and shook his head: “No.”
Huo Zongzhuo didn’t give up. “Think about it—buying, selling… a plane. How much profit could you make?”
“And in Wencheng, how much could you earn in six months? Ten thousand? Twenty? Thirty?”
Jiang Luo smiled faintly, still shaking his head. “I’m not coming. I’ll do it myself.”
Huo Zongzhuo spoke seriously, no teasing: “You could set your own annual salary with me.”
Jiang Luo leaned back in the sofa. “Thanks for thinking so highly of me. I also know that bringing a plane from the Soviet Union into China requires tons of formalities—foreign trade permits, coordination across provinces to gather enough daily necessities for trade…”
Huo Zongzhuo: “Did I mention you’d be using daily goods to exchange for the plane?”
Jiang Luo had let it slip but wasn’t flustered. He shrugged, tilted his head, raised an eyebrow with a hint of mischief: “Didn’t mention it? I don’t remember. Probably did, right?”
“Otherwise, how would I know you were trading daily goods for a plane?”
Huo Zongzhuo began recalling if he had indeed mentioned it.
“All right.”
Jiang Luo stood. “I’m heading back to my room now.”
“Thanks for the juice—just one glass and I feel much better.”
Still, he wobbled slightly on his feet.
Huo Zongzhuo got up, reached out, and steadied him. “Careful.”
“I’m fine.”
Jiang Luo maneuvered around the sofa.
Huo Zongzhuo withdrew his hand and walked with him toward the elevator. “Staying in Wencheng a few more days?”
Jiang Luo: “I’m not leaving yet.”
“And you?”
Huo Zongzhuo: “I’m staying a few more days too.”
Then, as they walked: “Are you free tomorrow evening? Let’s have dinner.”
Jiang Luo turned back teasingly: “You sure like eating with me, huh?”
He snapped his fingers. “I’m free. Six o’clock in the lobby?”
Then added, “You pick what you want to eat. It’s on me.”
Seeing Jiang Luo so confident, audacious, yet composed, Huo Zongzhuo liked it even more. A smile appeared naturally. “Six o’clock then.”
They entered the elevator together. Huo Zongzhuo asked: “Which floor are you on?”
Jiang Luo replied casually: “Twelfth.”
Huo Zongzhuo: “Hmm. I’m on the top floor.”
“Presidential suite?”
Jiang Luo teased: “A tycoon, no wonder you’re a tycoon.”
Huo Zongzhuo smiled: “If you worked with me, you’d be on the top floor too.”
The elevator attendant in the corner overheard and froze, thinking: what did he just hear?
“Work with him?”
Could it be what he thought it meant?
Did top-floor tycoons not care about women anymore?
The young attendant was stunned.
Soon, the elevator doors opened. Jiang Luo stepped out, only then realizing what had just been said. He spun back, shouting at the elevator: “Work with you? That’s way too ambiguous!”
Huo Zongzhuo, hands in his pockets, stood tall in the elevator, curling his lips into a small smile at Jiang Luo.
The next morning, a thoroughly hungover Wang Chuang couldn’t get out of bed. He slept like a log, dead to the world.