Chapter 73

“Your sincerity is more than enough—I feel it. But unearned rewards shouldn’t be taken. I can’t accept the money.”

“To be honest, I’m just an ordinary businessman—so ordinary it can’t get any more so—making a little money on the side. I’m nothing like you, President Li, with your family background, looks, education, and ability—all outstanding, all exceptional.”

“In business, you clearly have farther-reaching, longer-term plans.”

“As for me, at the end of the day, all I can look after is the narrow road right in front of me.”

“So yes—our paths are different, and we don’t travel the same way.”

Jiang Luo spoke plainly. “I don’t want to offend you, President Li. Pacific Department Store has deep roots and vast resources. I’m just a small figure in Haicheng. You calling me ‘President Jiang’ is you showing me respect—I understand that.”

“As the saying goes, words once spoken are like water once spilled. Since I already told Guo Ronghai that Weilaniduo would never enter Pacific, then I’ll do what I said.”

“It’s not aimed at anyone. Just me sticking to something I said in anger.”

“That doesn’t mean I refuse to work with you, President Li.”

“As long as you ask, any other product under my company—aside from Weilaniduo—can cooperate with Pacific and enter your stores.”

“I don’t need special treatment. Just follow the contract and the mall’s rules—whatever they are.”

The words were watertight—firm, principled, yet not sharp. They carried backbone without stabbing anyone. For Li Fengrui, it became difficult to press further.

If he kept pushing, it would look like he was forcing the issue.

Being rejected, Li Fengrui was naturally displeased.

He had laid out sincerity, money, and benefits—everything—and still been turned down. If it were anyone else, he’d have thought they were pushing their luck.

But Jiang Luo…

This Jiang Luo, facing him, was neither flustered nor timid, neither obsequious nor ingratiating. In all these years—including the months since he’d come to Haicheng—Li Fengrui truly hadn’t met anyone like this.

As his thoughts turned, he could only think: there really are all kinds of people in China.

And of course he had to be the one to run into one like this.

For a moment, Li Fengrui even suspected that Jiang Luo knew something—that he was deliberately refusing to board his ship.

But what could Jiang Luo possibly know?

There was no way Jiang Luo knew his true plans or calculations.

After thinking it over, Li Fengrui found nothing particularly special about Jiang Luo—only that Guo Ronghai, that useless piece of trash, had offended the wrong person and botched the job.

Li Fengrui wasn’t the type to keep circling an issue endlessly. Jiang Luo’s stance and decision were clear enough.

So he stopped talking about Weilaniduo, asked instead what other products Jiang Luo’s company had—and at the same time lifted his eyes, casting a sideways glance at Guo Ronghai, who was still kneeling on the floor slapping himself.

Guo Ronghai immediately got up and left the private room.

Li Fengrui checked his watch, smiled. “Let’s eat. It’s getting late.”

“Sure.”

Jiang Luo stood as well.

But as he turned, he didn’t see the two brief glances Li Fengrui cast at the curve of his waist and hips beneath the suit.

Li Fengrui quickly withdrew his gaze, thinking to himself: President Jiang does have good looks. Hard to say how old he is—he looks younger than me.

The meal continued with light conversation, smooth and pleasant.

Toward the end, Li Fengrui suddenly seemed to remember something. “How old are you, President Jiang? You look younger than me.”

“I was born in ’71,” Jiang Luo replied.

’71?

Eighteen? Nineteen?

Li Fengrui was genuinely surprised.

“Started out early,” Jiang Luo said casually, making it up on the spot.

Li Fengrui smiled. “You really are younger than me—so you’re the younger brother.”

Jiang Luo thought: let’s not with the brother talk.

In his previous life, when the Li siblings fought among themselves, Li Fengrui had crushed every single “brother” until they were utterly obedient.

After crossing Li Fengrui, Jiang Luo knew very well—once this meal was over, this wouldn’t end easily.

Soon after, the meal concluded. They shook hands. Jiang Luo said his goodbyes and left first.

No sooner had Jiang Luo gone than Guo Ronghai, his face swollen like a pig’s head, pushed the door open and came back in.

Li Fengrui sat by the sofa, his expression completely blank—nothing like the friendly face he’d worn while eating and chatting with Jiang Luo.

Cold-faced, he lowered his eyes and fastened the locks on the money-filled suitcases on the table, his voice just as cold.

“Since President Jiang’s Weilaniduo won’t come to Pacific, then we’ll make our own Weilaniduo.”

Guo Ronghai, of course, knew what Li Fengrui meant.

In fact, even before approaching Jiang Luo, they’d already started preparing.

“Should we find some people to—”

Guo Ronghai felt Jiang Luo was being ungrateful and wanted to teach him a lesson.

Li Fengrui replied indifferently, “If I wanted him dead, it’d be easier than killing an ant. Leave it for now.”

Then he added, “He really does look quite good.”

—

Jiang Luo drove away from Nanjing Road, hands on the steering wheel, replaying the scenes from the restaurant. He knew perfectly well that by refusing Li Fengrui, given the young master’s methods and temperament, this matter wouldn’t end so simply.

Whatever.

Jiang Luo stopped thinking about it quickly.

Let it be.

When it rains, it rains; when a mother wants to remarry, she will. There was no stopping Young Master Li anyway.

Whatever came later, he’d deal with it then.

Jiang Luo wasn’t worried at all.

He’d always been bold, believing that water could be blocked with earth, fire doused with water—no matter what, he’d find a way to handle it.

………………………………………..

It didn’t take long for Jiang Luo to learn what Li Fengrui’s next move was.

On the third floor of Pacific Department Store, a new women’s clothing counter appeared—called “Wei Lan Ni Duo.”

Not only were the clothes inside almost identical to Weilaniduo’s, the prices were the same, the layout was the same, and even the model poster at the entrance featured the very same white female model.

And the counter had opened astonishingly fast—only days after that dinner on Nanjing Road.

Jiang Luo immediately understood: Li Fengrui had prepared this long in advance.

So that was the move.

Jiang Luo saw the “Wei Lan Ni Duo” counter with his own eyes at Pacific, smiled faintly, had no strong reaction, and soon turned and left.

When his coworkers found out, their reactions were intense—everyone talking at once.

“How can they copy like this?”

“Exactly! Even the name is the same—just missing the grass radical!”

“We have to go find them. What’s this supposed to mean?”

“Yes, go find them!”

Jiang Luo stayed calm. When he received a call from Wang Chuang, who was out of town and yelling about how they could copy them like this, Jiang Luo replied flatly, “Did you forget? Back when we were selling in the small markets, weren’t the things we sold also copies of foreign brands and Hong Kong goods?”

“That’s different!” Wang Chuang argued.

“We copied, sure, but we sold under our own names! We didn’t slap the same label on!”

“How can they call it ‘Wei Lan Ni Duo’? That’s blatantly riding our coattails!”

Jiang Luo said evenly, “Mm. They’re riding it. What do you plan to do about it?”

“Go smash the shop?”

“Go to court and sue them?”

Wang Chuang hesitated. “I…”

“But they still can’t copy us like this!”

Wang Chuang finally understood Jiang Luo’s attitude, incredulous. “Wait—aren’t you worried at all?”

“They have the same name, sell the same clothes, same prices. They’re not just riding us—they’re making the money we should be making!”

“They’re taking money!”

“Taking it straight out of our pockets!”

“How can you be this calm?”

Unhurried, Jiang Luo said, “Then what? We can’t smash the shop. Suing takes time, and it won’t shut them down right away. If I’m not calm, should I go cry at their doorstep?”

Then he added, “Li Fengrui isn’t really going hard on me.”

“If he didn’t want me alive, he could’ve just burned my factory down.”

Just like what had happened in his previous life.

“Fuck—” Wang Chuang’s heart jumped. “No way. He wouldn’t do something like that, would he?”

Jiang Luo snorted. “Why do you think he wouldn’t?”

“I refused him. That’s the same as offending him.”

“He’s not an ordinary person.”

“If he really wanted to use underhanded methods, why would he stop at copying a brand?”

Jiang Luo spoke quietly, almost mockingly. “We should be thanking Young Master Li.”

“If he weren’t being so ‘magnanimous,’ we wouldn’t even have a factory anymore.”

“And if a few workshop workers died, I’d be going straight to prison.”

Just like in his previous life.

In 1990, this was an era when capital was just beginning to sprout—baring its fangs little by little—when anything could happen.

Jiang Luo didn’t dwell on Li Fengrui’s “Wei Lan Ni Duo,” nor did he allow the company staff to obsess over it.

When, not long after, he discovered that “Wei Lan Ni Duo” was even selling several new designs that had just come off the production line—styles that hadn’t yet appeared in their own counters—Jiang Luo directly had his original design drafts delivered to Li Fengrui through an intermediary.

At home, Li Fengrui flipped through the design sketches Jiang Luo had sent. He found not only winter pieces, but also new spring designs for the following year.

As he looked through them, he sensed a faint note of provocation. Along with the sketches, there was a piece of paper bearing a single passage:

Original drafts enclosed. This should save you the trouble of sending people to factories to hunt for sample garments.

Business under heaven is something anyone can do.

I once heard an entrepreneur say: why do food businesses exist? So everyone in the country can eat affordable, high-quality meals.

Why sell appliances? So one day, everyone can watch color TV, use refrigerators and washing machines.

I’m not an entrepreneur—just a businessman.

But if one day everyone can wear affordable, well-made clothes I designed, with wardrobes full of choices, then I think—that would be truly wonderful.