Jiang Luo made decisions quickly and decisively: “There’s a building behind the factory that used to be the cafeteria. We can clean it up, hire some staff, and set up a small canteen.”
At the factory gate, the old iron doors were wide open, and the guard booth was empty. A BMW sedan rolled in slowly.
The driver’s side window lowered, revealing Huo Zongzhuo’s face.
He glanced around, smiling quietly to himself—so they’d moved into a bigger factory. Clearly, the new brand was doing very well at Yong’an Department Store.
“I’ll arrange the racks, and we can store all the ready-to-ship clothes in the warehouse here…”
Jiang Luo was talking efficiently with Zhang Ningfu. Seeing Zhang Ningfu glance behind him, Jiang Luo turned and saw Huo Zongzhuo approaching. His face lit up, and he immediately said, “Dad, you’re here? Come to inspect my ‘work’?” He reached out a hand.
Huo Zongzhuo tapped his palm in response and nodded toward Zhang Ningfu. “Not inspecting, just visiting to see your new factory.”
Looking around, he added, “Looks like the move just happened today.”
“Yes,” Jiang Luo replied cheekily, introducing Zhang Ningfu: “This is my dad.”
Zhang Ningfu blinked in surprise but quickly extended his hand. Huo Zongzhuo shook it first, saying, “Just kidding, I’m a friend. My surname’s Huo.”
“I take my mother’s surname, Jiang,” Jiang Luo added.
“Hello, nice to meet you.”
Zhang Ningfu was confused, unsure if this man was actually Jiang Luo’s father. He looked young, well-dressed in a suit, with the aura of a successful businessman.
“Go on, talk,” Zhang Ningfu said, remembering he had other matters. He waved and left, leaving Jiang Luo with Mr. Huo.
Huo Zongzhuo nodded and smiled warmly.
Once Zhang Ningfu left, Huo Zongzhuo looked at Jiang Luo, a trace of helplessness on his smiling face. Jiang Luo laughed heartily.
“You’re still laughing,” Huo Zongzhuo said lightly.
“I can’t help it,” Jiang Luo replied. “If you can joke, I can too.”
Seeing Jiang Luo in good spirits, Huo Zongzhuo was pleased, knowing the Yong’an store opening went smoothly and sales were strong.
They toured the new factory together. Walking side by side, Huo Zongzhuo asked, “Why rent such a large space?”
Jiang Luo had leased a sizeable factory, with two or three smaller buildings nearby. Even using them as warehouses, the scale far exceeded the old workshop. It was indeed very large.
Jiang Luo smirked, teasingly: “Guess.”
Huo Zongzhuo had already guessed part of it: “Did you maybe bite off more than you can chew?”
“Big ambitions aren’t bad, but they’re hard to manage,” he cautioned.
Jiang Luo laughed: “If I can’t handle it, I’ve got you. What’s to fear?”
He was joking, and Huo Zongzhuo knew he didn’t really expect him to back him up. Still, he briefly considered what he’d do if Jiang Luo expanded too quickly, then nodded. “Fair enough.”
Jiang Luo chuckled, glancing at him.
Huo Zongzhuo continued, inspecting the factory as they walked: “With this scale and delivery efficiency, the supply for the department store counters should be fine, right?”
“Yeah,” Jiang Luo said. “Mainly, the finished clothing lines are diverse, and the counters change stock fast, so we’re always rushing production in advance.”
Huo Zongzhuo, familiar with clothing, was curious: “Diverse? How many items per season?”
Jiang Luo enumerated effortlessly: “For fall alone—20 pants, 30 skirts, 30 tops, 30 dresses. New styles every week.”
Huo Zongzhuo was surprised: “So many styles.”
Jiang Luo walked with hands behind his back, smiling confidently. “I want wealthy fans to buy something this week, something next week, every week. I’m not worried—they’ll always find something they like.”
He turned to Huo Zongzhuo: “Got a girlfriend, or female friends? Give me their height and size—I’ll let them pick clothes freely, as gifts. More styles, more chances they’ll love something.”
Huo Zongzhuo chuckled.
Jiang Luo was truly one of a kind.
Huo Zongzhuo: “I’m 1.7 meters, not overweight. Pick a few skirts for me to gift.”
Jiang Luo tilted his head: “Girlfriend?”
Huo Zongzhuo corrected: “Female friends. Maybe I’ll introduce you someday.”
“Sure,” Jiang Luo replied.
Huo Zongzhuo then asked, “Where’s the office? I’ll have a tea set sent over in a few days to celebrate your new factory.”
“Make it rosewood,” Jiang Luo said without hesitation.
“Alright, rosewood it is. I’ll pick a good one for you.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Jiang Luo teased again.
Huo Zongzhuo returned to Haicheng, staying at the Hilton in Jing’an. Jiang Luo had treated it like home, always in the same room. Huo Zongzhuo requested the room opposite Jiang Luo’s for himself.
After dinner in Juxiang Town, returning to the hotel, Jiang Luo entered his room and then knocked on Huo Zongzhuo’s door, carrying a suit.
“Here,” Jiang Luo said, handing over the suit. “I made it based on your measurements. The fit might not be perfect, but it should work.”
Huo Zongzhuo took the neatly pressed black suit, surprised—he hadn’t expected a handmade gift from Jiang Luo.
Leaning casually against the doorframe, Jiang Luo smiled: “The company’s got cash now. I wanted to buy something for you. When I went to the textile factory, I saw this fabric and thought, why not make you a suit? My specialty.”
Grinning broadly, he added, “Don’t mind—it’s a Jiang-made masterpiece. Only one in the world.”
Huo Zongzhuo’s heart warmed—nothing beat a handmade gift.
“Thank you, I really like it,” he said, eyes full of gentleness.
Thinking of something, he turned and held out a small white fur ball in his palm.
Jiang Luo reached for it.
Huo Zongzhuo explained with a smile: “It’s from our little white cat back home.”
Jiang Luo pinched the fur, eyes wide in surprise: “You’re giving me this? Treating me like a kid?”
Huo Zongzhuo chuckled: “The cat couldn’t come with me. To keep Mom company, I brought some fur for you to touch.”
Jiang Luo laughed, holding the fur ball. “What’s the cat’s name?”
“Used to be Xiao Bai,” Huo Zongzhuo said, smiling. “Now I renamed it Liushui—Flowing Water, like falling blossoms.”
“Did Liushui agree to you taking its fur as a gift?” Jiang Luo teased.
“It’s already sent,” Huo Zongzhuo said.
Jiang Luo raised the fur ball: “Then it counts as Liushui’s gift, not yours.”
Huo Zongzhuo watched him, smiling warmly.
“What? He really started a company?”
That weekend at the Zhao residence, Zhao Mingshi returned, and the family of four ate dinner together.
Zhao Shuo had recently checked with a friend at the Bureau of Commerce and found Jiang Luo’s registered company, Shengfei Trading, with a broad business scope. The trademarks included “Shengfei,” “Qiqiao Childhood,” and the newest, “Vilanido.”
Su Lan had just learned about “Vilanido” recently when a colleague’s daughter wore it to the office. The clothes were stylish, well-made, a few hundred per piece—not cheap, but not as expensive as Pierre Cardin.
Su Lan was shocked—it was Jiang Luo’s brand.
Zhao Shuo, excited, said, “I went to Yong’an myself. Business is excellent; no counter nearby has this brand selling as well. I even asked the staff—they confirmed the owner’s surname is Jiang.”
“Each piece costs a few hundred. Considering the customer flow, daily revenue could easily be five to ten thousand.”
He continued, “No wonder Mingshi said he saw Jiang Luo driving a Mercedes. At his earning speed, buying a car is completely normal.”
Zhao Mingshi froze, quietly clenching his teeth.
Zhao Guangyuan laughed: “See, Zhao Shuo? Your brother’s better at business than you.”