Bai Ting wasn’t the only one astonished—Wang Junwei had never seen so much money in his life either.
Over the years, he and Bai Ting had worked hard, saved every penny, and together only had four or five thousand yuan in the bank. Four or five thousand—barely enough to buy two TVs.
Heavens!
Both Wang Junwei and Bai Ting were completely amazed. Could anyone really make this much from business? It was staggering!
After a while, Bai Ting turned to Jiang Luo, her face softening with relief: “Auntie always knew you were clever. You really have the talent.”
“At first, I was annoyed that Wang Chuang ran off without a word—angry that he didn’t learn to give notice or say goodbye…”
“Huh? Mom?”
Wang Chuang glared: “Mom! I’m your real son! Are you praising the wrong person?”
Bai Ting waved him off: “Stop it. I know you, but without Jiang Luo, could you make this much? The money is because of him.”
She turned back to Jiang Luo: “Auntie always knew you were smart, and you’ve proven it—truly capable.”
Wang Chuang protested loudly: “Mom! Praise your own son first!”
Jiang Luo laughed heartily.
Seeing Bai Ting and Wang Junwei again in this life, Jiang Luo felt both emotional and happy—so good that they were still around.
Wang Chuang’s family lived in the east unit, a layout similar to Jiang Jianmin’s west unit: a combined kitchen and dining area, a large room separated for Bai Ting and Wang Junwei, and Wang Chuang’s bedroom outside.
The four had originally been in the kitchen. With Wang Chuang and Jiang Luo back, Bai Ting abandoned her laundry, and they all went to the adjoining room.
After closing the door, Bai Ting and Wang Junwei counted the money, marveling at how much it was.
Wang Chuang and Jiang Luo sat down, giving a brief overview of their business in Wencheng, keeping it general since Bai Ting and Wang Junwei didn’t really understand the details.
After counting the money and chatting a bit, Bai Ting remembered something, untied her apron, and said: “Almost forgot, I’ll go buy some ingredients and cook you a meal.”
She added specifically for Jiang Luo: “Don’t leave early, Xiao Luo. I’ll make chicken and braised pork for you.”
Wang Chuang immediately protested: “Why cook at home? We’ve got money—let’s eat out.”
He got up, full of swagger: “Come on, let’s get noodles in Huating. My treat!”
Bai Ting, already at the door, turned back and smacked Wang Chuang’s head: “Huating, Huating—you only think about Huating.”
“Making money has made you arrogant, and you don’t know how to save.”
“What’s so great about Huating? It’s expensive. We’ll cook at home—you don’t have to lift a finger.”
Wang Chuang: “Mom! Stop hitting my head—I’m eighteen, not eight!”
“And now that I’m doing business, I’ll be a big boss one day.”
“Which boss have you seen who still gets smacked by his mother?”
He argued: “Huating, Huating—let’s go. We’ve got money, I’ll pay. Money’s meant to be spent.”
Bai Ting insisted: “I said, we eat at home.”
Wang Chuang relented: “Then you ask my brother—eat at home or Huating?”
Thinking Jiang Luo would be even more laid-back than himself, Wang Chuang assumed he’d pick Huating.
Jiang Luo smiled faintly: “Home’s fine. I haven’t had your braised pork in ages.”
Bai Ting scolded Wang Chuang: “Did you hear that? Did you hear that?”
Wang Chuang sat back, touched his nose: “Fine, home it is.”
Bai Ting grabbed her keys and left.
By coincidence, as Bai Ting went downstairs to get her bike, Zhang Xiangping was just returning on hers, parking nearby.
Bai Ting and Zhang Xiangping had always had a neutral relationship—acknowledging each other politely when they met—but that was in the past. Now, knowing about the switched babies and that the real son had gone to university, Zhang Xiangping and Jiang Jianmin were full of themselves, constantly boasting about their “Fudan prodigy son.”
Previously, Bai Ting would have let Zhang Xiangping know Jiang Luo was back at her place. Now, she knew Jiang Luo wasn’t their biological son and that they were only interested in their Fudan prodigy. So, when they met, Bai Ting just zipped her lips and rode off to the market.
In her heart, she thought: Jiang Luo is so capable—when you two regret it, just wait.
Meanwhile, Jiang Luo came out of Wang Chuang’s house on his way to the bathroom. He saw Zhang Xiangping but didn’t call out, only gave a cool glance at her back and went upstairs to the public restroom.
While Jiang Luo was inside, Wang Junwei carefully rewrapped the money in newspaper and whispered to Wang Chuang: “Jiang Luo’s parents… that west-unit family… always brag about their Fudan prodigy son.”
“I bet Jiang Luo knows just how smart he is—he’ll never go back.”
Wang Chuang nodded silently: “My brother’s not dumb. Let them be. He’s capable and doesn’t rely on them.”
Wang Junwei added: “I heard his biological parents are well-off, and they raised a Fudan prodigy. Why wouldn’t Jiang Luo go back?”
Wang Chuang quickly said: “Don’t say that in front of my brother. Let him decide for himself. If he doesn’t go back, he’ll just stay here with us—think of him as an extra son.”
He pointed at the pile of gift boxes: “Bird’s nest soup. Never heard of it? A tiny box, three thousand yuan. My brother bought it as a gift for you—it’s a premium tonic.”
“Others don’t want this son, but we’ll take him—consider him your own.”
Wang Junwei: “I wouldn’t mind. Jiang Luo’s a lot smarter than you.”
Wang Chuang stretched his neck: “Dad! Don’t insult your own son! Your real son made money too!”
Wang Junwei chuckled: “I know, I know. You’re both impressive—my sons are amazing.”
That evening, Bai Ting and Wang Junwei cooked a full table of dishes.
After dinner, the four of them sat around the square table just like a proper family, eating and chatting, the atmosphere warm and lively.
Naturally, Wang Chuang stayed over, insisting Jiang Luo not leave either—after all, his bed was big enough for both of them.
Jiang Luo joked, “Who wants to sleep on your lousy wooden plank?”
Wang Chuang let out a frustrated “tsk” and muttered, “Damn it… used to sleeping on a crown-like mattress, even I can’t stand that wooden bed.”
He suggested, “Why don’t we just stay in a hotel together?”
Jiang Luo snorted, “Who’d want to stay with you? I’ll go on my own.”
“Come on, don’t be like that,” Wang Chuang pleaded.
Still, Jiang Luo went off alone, leaving Wang Chuang behind.
Just as Jiang Luo reached the ground floor, Jiang Jianmin came out of the second-floor room. Glancing down, he caught sight of Jiang Luo’s back.
At first, he thought he’d imagined it, but looking again, the posture, the figure—sure enough, it was Jiang Luo.
“Brat!”
Jiang Jianmin shouted down the stairs. “Where the hell have you been running off to?!”
Jiang Luo looked up without meeting his eyes, merely giving a casual glance toward the west unit upstairs, and continued walking.
Jiang Jianmin didn’t even bother changing shoes, slapping on his slippers as he rushed downstairs to chase after him.
But by the time he got out of the courtyard, Jiang Luo was already in a minivan, driving away.
Jiang Jianming stopped, hands on hips, spat to the side, and muttered curses: “You little devil… don’t think you can get away from me. Just wait, I’ll skin you alive!”
Meanwhile, on the way to Huating in the minivan, Jiang Luo’s pager buzzed.
He took it off his waist and glanced at the screen, recognizing the familiar incoming number.
Arriving at Huating and stepping into the room, he used the bedside phone to call back.
Once connected, he laughed first: “Boss Huo, punctual again today, huh?”
On the other end, Huo Zongzuo replied warmly, “Of course. I can be late with anyone else, but with you, I have to be on time.”
Jiang Luo chuckled.
Huo Zongzuo continued gently, “I thought you were returning to Haicheng today? Have you arrived? Where are you now?”
Jiang Luo joked, “At your hometown.”
Huo Zongzuo: “Jingan Hilton?”
Jiang Luo laughed: “Do you always have to react that fast?”
Huo Zongzuo teased back, “Better be quick, or I can’t keep up with your young pace.”
Jiang Luo quipped: “Men aren’t supposed to be fast, right?”
Huo Zongzuo replied: “Then I’m not fast. Very, very slow.”
Jiang Luo laughed again: “Yes, yes, you’re not fast. You’re hopeless.”
Then he asked, “Have you sorted out the foreign trade qualifications yet? Didn’t you start sending some daily goods to the Soviet Union?”
The two of them chatted over the phone like old friends, joking and laughing as they talked business.
At night, with doors and windows secured, Wang Chuang, Wang Junwei, and Bai Ting sat on the bed in the bedroom, counting the 50,000 yuan again.
Bai Ting, worried about Wang Chuang spending recklessly, suggested splitting it: 45,000 for her and Wang Junwei to manage and deposit, and 5,000 for Wang Chuang to use freely.
Wang Junwei initially thought 5,000 might be too much for their son to handle, fearing he’d squander it. After all, 5,000 was no small sum.
Then he reconsidered—now that Wang Chuang had been learning from Jiang Luo and earning tens of thousands at a time, if he couldn’t manage 5,000, they certainly couldn’t.
After all, this money was Wang Chuang’s, not theirs. Their role as parents was purely to worry.
Wang Chuang, ever generous, said casually: “Whatever you think is best, I’m fine with it.”