Jiang Luo rubbed his sore temples, got up, changed clothes, washed up, grabbed a quick bite in the restaurant, and headed to Zhang Zhiqiang’s factory.
In the office, sipping tea to wake his mind, Jiang Luo listened to Zhang Zhiqiang across the tea table: “Young Master Jiang, about those low-voltage electrical workshops in Yueqing you mentioned buying yesterday… I’ve been thinking, it’s not very reliable.”
Zhang Zhiqiang poured tea as he spoke. “You’ve probably heard the news—Wencheng has a lot of counterfeit goods. Remember a while back in Hangzhou, there was that big fire destroying fake leather produced here? The whole thing blew up in the media.”
“Yueqing isn’t much better; there’s a lot of fakes coming from there. And it seems they’re doing some sort of crackdown recently. Right now might not be the best time to buy a workshop.”
Jiang Luo blew across his tea, thinking: the local crackdowns are just minor measures. Wait and see—the central government will soon send people for a proper cleanup.
“Is that so?”
He drank his tea calmly, not giving any indication that he distrusted Zhang Zhiqiang. Naturally, Zhang Zhiqiang quickly assured him: “Really. I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true. I wouldn’t deliberately block your business opportunities. I’m just worried you’re unfamiliar with the local situation and might get cheated if you go there.”
What Zhang Zhiqiang didn’t know was that Jiang Luo was waiting for Yueqing’s crackdown. And by casually hinting that he wanted to buy workshops there, Jiang Luo was testing him.
If Zhang Zhiqiang spoke honestly, then Jiang Luo might cooperate with him in the future. If Zhang Zhiqiang had stayed silent, letting Jiang Luo go to Yueqing uninformed, Jiang Luo wouldn’t approach him again after this deal.
Jiang Luo was scouting for people he could work with long-term.
Previously, Zhang Zhiqiang hadn’t trusted him, treating him coldly at the train station. To Jiang Luo, that meant nothing. In business, what counts is profit and integrity—not personality or attitude.
Hearing Zhang Zhiqiang admit that Yueqing workshops weren’t reliable, Jiang Luo felt this man’s character was decent enough to consider future cooperation.
“All right, thank you, Zhang Boss. I’ll be careful.”
He set down his tea, showing no trace of drunkenness.
Then Zhang Zhiqiang added, “I have relatives in Yueqing. If you want, I can take you to them.”
Jiang Luo nodded. “Good, I’ll trouble you, Zhang Boss.”
Zhang Zhiqiang handed him another cup: “No trouble at all, have some tea.”
Before dinner, Jiang Luo returned to the hotel. Wang Chuang wasn’t there, no note left—where he had gone was unknown. Jiang Luo didn’t worry; a grown man like him wouldn’t disappear, and Wencheng was peaceful enough.
Jiang Luo washed his hands, dried them, and headed downstairs to the lobby. As he exited the elevator, Huo Zongzhuo came through the revolving door.
“What do you feel like eating?”
Jiang Luo smiled at him: “Not trying to save me money, huh? You know I’ve been making some cash?”
Huo Zongzhuo grinned and teased: “Can’t pay? Then you can wash dishes.”
Jiang Luo wasn’t intimidated: “I’ll wash dishes with you.”
They got into the car. Huo Zongzhuo drove a Volkswagen this time.
Jiang Luo teased: “Not the BMW today?”
Huo Zongzhuo joked: “Wencheng’s too poor; no one can lend me a BMW here.”
Jiang Luo laughed, thinking how well he got along with Huo Zongzhuo. Last life, Huo Zongzhuo had been cold and distant, which now seemed odd.
They picked a decent local seafood restaurant, entered a private room, and since Huo Zongzhuo didn’t order, handed the menu to Jiang Luo. Jiang Luo picked everything—giant lobsters, huge crabs, clams, abalone, and other local seafood.
Huo Zongzhuo: “We can’t finish all this.”
Jiang Luo: “Then throw away what we can’t eat.”
Huo Zongzhuo called the restaurant owner back and removed four dishes from the order. She left, closing the room door behind her.
Pouring tea, Huo Zongzhuo asked: “Why are you alone? Where’s your friend?”
Jiang Luo: “Not sure. Probably out having fun somewhere.”
He asked back: “And you? Are you gathering lots of supplies to take back to the Soviet Union?”
Huo Zongzhuo: “About that, I’ve been in contact with a few…”
They ate and chatted, the atmosphere relaxed.
Near the end of the meal, Huo Zongzhuo washed his hands and returned. He picked up his suit from the chair, reached into the pocket, and handed something to Jiang Luo.
Jiang Luo had just dried his hands and took it, curious: “What’s this?”
It was a palm-sized box.
Examining it, Jiang Luo froze. Huo Zongzhuo had given him a pager.
It was 1990. Though Haicheng had pagers since the ‘80s, they weren’t yet common in China. It was still a rare gadget.
“How… how come you’re giving me this?”
Jiang Luo naturally asked.
Huo Zongzhuo wiped his hands with a hot towel from the restaurant: “It’s convenient for keeping in touch.”
“Really generous,” Jiang Luo smiled.
He wasn’t the shy type. Holding up the little box, he said plainly, “Thanks.”
Teasingly: “A whole seafood feast, and I get a pager in return.”
He added: “You have one, don’t you? You could just give me your number and I could call you, same thing.”
Huo Zongzhuo: “I had a pager before, but it was annoying—always ringing. I threw it away and got a Motorola instead.”
“Basically a mobile phone.”
Jiang Luo understood—big phones, the kind that were the cutting-edge mobile phones at the time.
He smoothly said: “Give me your number. Makes it easier to contact you if needed.”
Huo Zongzhuo was surprised again: “You know about mobile phones?”
Jiang Luo replied lightly: “Like I said, I’ve seen pigs run.”
Both of them laughed.
But that night, after finishing seafood and returning to the hotel, Jiang Luo ran into Wang Chuang, who had just come back, and his mood changed—he couldn’t laugh anymore.
Wang Chuang reeked of alcohol, mingled with cheap cologne, sharp and overwhelming. His face was flushed, and his lower half… well, tented conspicuously.
Jiang Luo entered and bumped into Wang Chuang heading for the bathroom.
Seeing Wang Chuang like that, Jiang Luo instantly understood. His expression hardened. He closed the door and raised a hand, smacking Wang Chuang on the head: “You really went all out, huh?”
“Did some of those bosses take you out to drink?”
Then he kicked him: “Drinking, eating, messing around… now you’re all that, huh?!”
Wang Chuang got smacked on the head and kicked again, didn’t resist, and curled up, stammering: “I didn’t do anything with any woman! Nothing at all!”
He explained: “I just had dinner and drank a bit, then they called me for a foot massage. I didn’t know the place was shady. The woman started touching me—I felt something was off, so I came back quickly.”
Jiang Luo smacked his head again: “Yeah, right!”
Wang Chuang: “Really! I swear!”
“She touched me, I was scared, so I left right away.”
He mumbled: “Why so fierce? If I’d known, I’d have stayed there…”
“Stayed there, my foot!”
Jiang Luo kicked him again: “Disgusting?”
“And you should know better! They called you there, and you went? If they’d called you to a graveyard, would you have gone!?”
Wang Chuang hugged his knees, timid: “I didn’t do anything, really, I didn’t!”
Jiang Luo twisted his ear: “If your future wife finds out, see how she’ll deal with you!”
Wang Chuang gasped: “Ah! It hurts, I get it, I get it! Next time I won’t go, I promise I won’t!”
Jiang Luo let go, looked at him, and thinking about what Wang Chuang had done, felt frustrated.
In the previous life, Wang Chuang hadn’t immediately started business with Jiang Luo; Jiang Luo hadn’t started early either, wasting one or two years messing around in Dongfang No. 1.
Back then, Wang Chuang graduated from technical school, got married young, and his wife was truly an excellent woman.
Jiang Luo had gotten along well with her; even when he later fell ill and was hospitalized, Wang Chuang’s parents cooked, and his wife brought him meals daily.
In this life, though Wang Chuang wasn’t married yet and hadn’t met his previous wife, Jiang Luo still regarded her as his wife.
Since she wasn’t around, Jiang Luo naturally had to watch over Wang Chuang, making sure he didn’t do anything to dishonor her.
Of course, Jiang Luo didn’t usually concern himself with men’s romantic matters. In his previous life, he’d been a playboy, left and right.
But that was the past. This life was different.
In this life, Jiang Luo refused to let men behave recklessly with women, and so he wouldn’t let Wang Chuang run wild.
Thinking that Wang Chuang would have a good wife in the future—who might even be suffering right now—Jiang Luo kicked him again, scolding: “You were called to do business, not to fool around!”
“You demand fidelity from your wife, yet you’ve already given your first time to some random woman, huh?!”
Wang Chuang blinked blankly: “I don’t even have a wife yet!”
Jiang Luo kicked him again: “And still talking back!”