Jiang Luo understood as soon as he heard—it wouldn’t be Guo Ronghai.
After that last dinner, Guo Ronghai wouldn’t dare approach him officially anymore, nor had he contacted him privately. Jiang Luo knew very well that the person reaching out this time was, in all likelihood, the young master of Pacific Department Store—the Li heir.
A colleague said, “President Jiang, they’re asking again, inviting you to dinner.”
Lowering his voice, he added, “They also said something about having Manager Guo formally apologize to you.”
That confirmed it. It had to be Young Master Li.
After thinking it over, Jiang Luo said, “Return the call. I’ll go to the dinner.”
He knew full well that if Li Fengrui was inviting him to eat, there would definitely be something behind it.
In his previous life, Jiang Luo had almost no direct dealings with Li Fengrui, but he’d heard plenty about the man’s ruthless, decisive methods.
Among the four major department stores in Haicheng, Weilaniduo had opened counters in the other three—only Pacific had been left out. Whatever the underlying reason, it had likely already, indirectly, offended Young Master Li.
As for offending people—Jiang Luo had no particular feelings about it. It wasn’t intentional.
At most, it could be blamed on Guo Ronghai, that parasite who carried bad luck with him and brought trouble wherever he went.
Two days later, Jiang Luo went as agreed to a restaurant on Nanjing Road.
When he entered the private room, the round table was empty. No one was there—except a young man in a white dress shirt, seated on a sofa off to the side.
Hearing the door open, the man stood up. When he saw Jiang Luo, a flicker of surprise crossed his face—clearly, he hadn’t expected Jiang Luo to be so young, nor so striking in appearance.
Li Fengrui’s gaze darkened slightly with interest, though nothing showed on his face. He extended a perfectly proper business handshake and said, “My surname is Li. Li Fengrui.”
Jiang Luo walked over, smiled, and shook his hand. “Jiang Luo. Jiang as in ginger, Luo as in falling.”
“Nice to meet you, President Li.”
“Likewise, President Jiang. Please, sit. Anywhere you like.”
They sat down not far apart—Jiang Luo on a single armchair, Li Fengrui on one end of the longer sofa.
Li Fengrui took the initiative to make small talk. “I wasn’t sure what kind of food you like, so I chose somewhere along Nanjing Road.”
“Then I thought—you probably go to the Peace Hotel often. Might be tired of it.”
“So I picked this newly opened place instead.”
“New?” Jiang Luo responded politely. “I don’t come to this area much. I really don’t know it well.”
“If President Li chose it, it must be good.”
Li Fengrui smiled. “I opened it. Just this month. Try it—if there’s anything you don’t like, tell me, and I’ll have them fix it.”
Jiang Luo smiled along, thinking to himself: worthy of the Li family’s young master. Opening a restaurant on Nanjing Road wasn’t something you could do without serious backing.
In his heart, he concluded: so this really is a Hongmen Banquet.
They chatted casually for a while. Li Fengrui mentioned that he hadn’t been in Haicheng long, having just graduated and returned from abroad. Jiang Luo, pretending ignorance, asked where he’d studied, and mentioned that he himself was a Haicheng native.
Polite back-and-forth continued, the atmosphere gradually warming—until the private room door opened again.
Guo Ronghai walked in silently.
Jiang Luo had his back to the door and didn’t see him at first.
When he turned his head, he saw Guo Ronghai already kneeling down in front of the coffee table beside him—kneeling toward Jiang Luo.
Jiang Luo looked over. He immediately understood: the Hongmen Banquet had begun.
Feigning surprise, he glanced at the kneeling Guo Ronghai, then turned back to Li Fengrui, looking puzzled. “This…?”
Li Fengrui smiled. “I heard a few days ago that this manager of mine offended President Jiang. No special meaning—just having him come apologize.”
As soon as the words fell, a sharp smack rang out.
Guo Ronghai raised his hand and began slapping himself—left, right—clearly using force. The sounds echoed through the not-small private room, one slap after another, painfully distinct.
Jiang Luo flicked another glance at Guo Ronghai, then met Li Fengrui’s eyes. He understood clearly now—this was both Li Fengrui’s show of sincerity and the effortless intimidation of someone born to power.
At this moment, Young Master Li could have Guo Ronghai kneeling here, slapping himself. The next moment, he could just as easily crush him like an ant.
After being reborn for several months, Jiang Luo was finally facing the first true obstacle on his upward path.
That obstacle was called capital.
Li Fengrui was capital.
And Jiang Luo was just an ordinary man with no background.
When an ordinary person runs into capital—if capital doesn’t want you to live, you won’t last a second.
……………………………..
In his previous life, Jiang Luo had never really run into capital.
He’d been too ordinary—just running small businesses, making some money. He was better off than most, yes, and earned quite a bit, but in the end, he was merely surviving in the cracks, making the kinds of money capital didn’t care about, doing business that capital never bothered to notice.
People like Li Fengrui were high above him. Even if Jiang Luo wanted to flatter them, he couldn’t reach them. At most, he could polish Guo Ronghai’s shoes.
So when it came to Li Fengrui, Young Master Li, Jiang Luo had only known of his existence. He’d heard rumors, fragments of stories—but they’d never met, never crossed paths.
To put it plainly, Jiang Luo knew nothing about Li Fengrui’s true background.
He had no advantage here—no secret knowledge, no edge that “only he knew.”
In his heart, Jiang Luo sighed at himself: impressive. First real encounter with capital, and he’d already offended it.
And reality quickly proved that Li Fengrui truly lived up to his reputation for decisiveness and efficiency—
While Guo Ronghai was still kneeling on the floor, slapping himself over and over, Li Fengrui bent down and lifted two small suitcases from beside his feet. He placed them neatly on the coffee table, unlocked them, opened them, and turned them toward Jiang Luo.
Jiang Luo lowered his eyes to look.
Well then.
One suitcase was full of RMB. The other, U.S. dollars.
Jiang Luo glanced once, then told himself silently: the more money there is, the faster you die.
He’d been wrong.
This wasn’t a Hongmen Banquet.
This was a death trap.
Li Fengrui might as well have said it outright: today, whether you want to or not, Weilaniduo is entering Pacific Department Store.
You don’t get a choice.
Jiang Luo composed himself, lowered his gaze at the stacks of cash, stared for a few seconds, then lifted his eyes to Li Fengrui.
“President Li, why go to such lengths?”
His words were clear, his tone calm and steady. “There was some unpleasantness between Manager Guo and me, which is why I refused to let Weilaniduo enter Pacific.”
“But that hardly warrants kneeling and apologizing in person.”
“In our culture, one kneels only to heaven, earth, and one’s parents. Him kneeling to me—I truly can’t accept it. It’s too much.”
“As for this money—”
Li Fengrui interrupted, “The money is also part of the apology. Compensation for your financial losses.”
“I already know everything about the dolls brought in from Wencheng and sold in the mall.”
“The RMB is to return your ‘kickbacks.’”
“The dollars are a small personal gesture from me.”
Li Fengrui laid it out plainly. “I won’t beat around the bush or waste time.”
“This dinner is for two things: an apology, and hoping President Jiang will loosen his stance and allow Weilaniduo into Pacific.”
“As long as you say yes, we’ll sign the contract immediately. I’ll give Weilaniduo the best floor, the best location, and the most favorable commission and rebate terms.”
He extended his hand, palm up—your move. “Everything depends on you. President Jiang, please give me an answer.”
Jiang Luo genuinely hesitated for a moment.
He’d rejected Guo Ronghai because Guo Ronghai had offended him—arrogant, contemptuous. That was why he’d refused Pacific.
And now Li Fengrui was showing this much sincerity…
In the blink of an eye, Jiang Luo weighed several possibilities. He curled his lips into a faint smile.
“President Li, I appreciate the regard.”
That was a polite refusal.
Li Fengrui looked at him, his gaze deepening.
He kept his patience. “May I ask why?”
“Manager Guo offended you, yes.”
“But Pacific Department Store didn’t.”
“Or does President Jiang have other concerns?”
He even added, “As long as you agree, I can waive all commission from the mall.”
That last line truly tempted Jiang Luo.
He could tell—Li Fengrui was straightforward, wealthy, and absolutely capable of keeping his word.
But Jiang Luo thought of several bosses he’d known in his previous life—big and small—who later tied themselves to capital.
Coincidence?
In any case, not a single one of them ended well.
Jiang Luo trusted Li Fengrui’s promise.
But he didn’t trust capital.
In business, everything revolves around profit. With no ties of kinship or obligation, why would Li Fengrui hand over all the benefits to him?
Even waiving the mall’s profit cut?
Jiang Luo was a wolf—he could smell danger from far away.
Instinctively, he neither wanted to nor would board Li Fengrui’s pirate ship.
In the early years of his previous life, Jiang Luo hadn’t had this kind of clarity.
Back then, he’d scrambled in the business world, desperately trying to latch onto capital, believing that whatever leaked from the cracks between big bosses’ fingers would be enough to make him rich.
He’d gone to this dinner, that banquet—networking, toasting, flattering—treating connections as more important than anything.
In the past, if Li Fengrui had sat beside him and called him “President Jiang,” Young Master Li wouldn’t even have needed to cast the line—Jiang Luo would’ve climbed aboard on his own.
But in this life, Jiang Luo had thought things through. He’d understood that much of that scrambling was pointless.
People are meant to walk their own paths.
Jiang Luo didn’t want to offend Li Fengrui—but he wasn’t afraid either.
He reached out, closed the lids on the two suitcases, and pushed them back in front of Li Fengrui, composed and steady.
“President Li, thank you for your kindness.”