Chapter 4 The Prodigal

Chapter 4: The Playboy

Of the 10,500 yuan, Jiang Luo kept 500 for emergencies, invested 5,000 in *Vacuum Tube*, and held the remaining 5,000 for flexible use.

When Jiang Luo bought in, *Vacuum Tube* was priced at 59.8. By the time the brokerage office closed that day, it had risen to 63.3.

Regarding the stock market, the local elders at the brokerage office had a saying: "Money makes money, it's effortless, much easier than working a job."

"If it goes up, you profit! If it falls, no need to worry—it'll rise again eventually."

"If it doesn't rise today, it will tomorrow. It always rises."

Jiang Luo spent most of the afternoon in the brokerage office and couldn’t help but admire these uncles and aunts. They were truly ahead of their time.

In this era, before a formal stock exchange was even established, with only a handful of stocks and no such thing as K-line charts, they were already buying and selling with hundreds, thousands, or even tens of thousands of yuan.

While not everyone would profit, most of these individuals possessed the financial acumen and foresight that would ensure they would never be truly poor in the future.

Unlike Jiang Luo, who was genuinely broke—penniless and starting from scratch.

The money in his pocket, he recalled, was borrowed by staking his reputation.

After leaving the brokerage office, it was still early, so Jiang Luo wandered around the area.

Jing’an was undoubtedly the prime real estate in Haishi (Shanghai) at the time, with every amenity on its streets and beautifully constructed buildings.

But Jiang Luo knew that in just a few years, by 1995 or 1998, Haicheng would undergo a construction boom.

By then, Jing’an would still be Jing’an, but Haicheng would no longer be the city it once was.

Jiang Luo also remembered that soon, the Gubei district would undergo large-scale redevelopment, becoming Haicheng’s first affluent neighborhood.

In his previous life, Su Lan, Zhao Guangyuan, and Zhao Shuo had helped Zhao Mingshi, who had just graduated from university, buy a house there.

Jiang Luo had made up his mind—his first property in Haicheng would also be in Gubei.

No one would buy it for him; he would buy it himself.

He would personally witness Gubei’s rise to prosperity.

After wandering around, he grabbed a quick bite to eat by the roadside and then took a minicab to Oriental Number One.

What for?

To have fun, of course.

As a reborn playboy, why should he deny himself a good time?

At Oriental Number One, a long line had formed at the front desk, with people buying tickets to enter.

Jiang Luo was a familiar face, so he got in on recognition alone. Inside, the hall was lit with colorful lights, music was playing, and the dance floor was packed with men and women dancing—everyone was living it up.

The moment Jiang Luo saw the scene, a smile spread across his face. This kind of atmosphere and venue was right up his alley. Especially in his previous life, he had loved raking in money and spending it lavishly—wherever was fun, he’d be there. It was carefree and comfortable. Life, he believed, should be lived this way.

Jiang Luo still felt the same way now. The only difference was that he was currently dead broke. If he had money, he’d be dining at the Peace Hotel (a historic luxury venue) and enjoying himself on the Bund.

Snapping his fingers to the beat of the music, Jiang Luo did a little spin and was about to find a seat to have a drink when a sharp, not particularly pleasant perfume scent wafted over. Immediately after, a bare, fair arm hooked through his.

Jiang Luo turned his head almost simultaneously and saw a young woman wearing a dress and makeup.

When she noticed him looking at her, she pursed her lips and smiled at him, speaking in a flirtatious yet girlish tone, “What are you staring at? Don’t you recognize me?”

Jiang Luo suddenly remembered—her name was Ma Shuwei, a girl he had been pursuing lately.

In his previous life, Jiang Luo had indeed gotten together with Ma Shuwei. His first time was with her, too.

But not long after, they broke up because Ma Shuwei met a rich businessman from Wencheng who was very generous to her. She then ignored Jiang Luo, the poor boy.

Back then, Jiang Luo refused to accept it. He sought out Ma Shuwei multiple times, insisting that he wasn’t poor—that his mother, Su Lan, was a leader at some factory, his father, Zhao Guangyuan, held a position in some department, and his family had money.

Ma Shuwei, of course, didn’t believe him, thinking he was just boasting, and brushed him off.

Because of this incident, Su Lan and Zhao Guangyuan’s impression of him worsened. The couple, who had originally planned to help him find a proper job, dropped the idea and gave him the cold shoulder for two months.

In an instant, Jiang Luo recalled this series of events, his expression blank as he looked at Ma Shuwei.

It wasn’t because she was materialistic. People, regardless of gender, tending to prefer the wealthy was perfectly natural—Jiang Luo saw nothing wrong with that.

He simply understood, both in his previous life and now, that he had never actually liked Ma Shuwei.

He had pursued her back then because he was young and restless—it had nothing to do with love.

Seeing Jiang Luo’s indifferent expression and gaze, Ma Shuwei’s smile froze slightly. Puzzled, she asked, “What’s wrong?—Why are you looking at me like that? Do you really not recognize me?”

She then added, “Are you going to buy me a drink?”

“After that, want to dance?”

Jiang Luo moved. He reached out and removed Ma Shuwei’s arm from his, turning to face her directly. Amid the loud, driving beat, he said to her, “Let’s just end things here.”

Ma Shuwei stared at Jiang Luo, taken aback, thinking she had misheard.

Before she could react or say anything, Jiang Luo leaned in and muttered two sentences. Ma Shuwei’s expression changed abruptly. She glanced at Jiang Luo awkwardly, then turned and left without any argument, complaint, or fuss.

Because Jiang Luo had said he knew about her affair with Lu Fuhua.

That afternoon, when he went to see Lu Fuhua, the person getting intimate with him in the office was Ma Shuwei.

Ma Shuwei took the hint and left, and Jiang Luo also turned to find a seat.

He even grabbed two drinks and a plate of fruit and snacks.

Leaning back on the sofa, he ate and drank, soaking in the lively, exhilarating atmosphere, relaxing both body and mind.

At one point, someone came over and clapped him on the shoulder, “Here to have fun, kid? Helping yourself to drinks and snacks, huh?”

Jiang Luo glanced at the person—a local tough he knew.

Without saying much, he handed over one of the drinks from his table.

The man took it, patted Jiang Luo’s shoulder again, and said, “Alright, just sit tight. Wait till Brother Hua gives you hell later.”

With that, he left.

Jiang Luo paid no attention to the man’s words, continuing to eat, drink, and enjoy himself carefree.

He thought to himself, under normal circumstances, Lu Fuhua would have scolded him for this. But starting from when he asked to borrow money that afternoon, Lu Fuhua wouldn’t be scolding him anymore.

Their Brother Hua was currently obsessing over how to send him off to warm someone’s bed, so why would he care about a few drinks and some fruit?

Jiang Luo didn't care at all how Lu Fuhua was currently eyeing his ass.

He was going to live it up.

Later, around three in the morning, the club gradually died down, and the crowd thinned out. Jiang Luo then left Oriental No. 1.

He hitched a ride on some guy’s motorcycle and went to the Bund.

At that time, the Bund hadn’t yet built the Oriental Pearl Tower—only a row of majestic European-style buildings and the riverside promenade.

At night, the area lacked the future lights and neon signs from surrounding buildings. It was quiet, with very few people around.

Jiang Luo walked until he got tired. Spotting a metal bench by the roadside, he went over, sat for a while, and then, feeling drowsy, lay down right there. Using his bent arm as a pillow, he fell asleep.

At some point, a car pulled up quietly not far from where Jiang Luo was sleeping deeply by the silent Huangpu River. The window rolled down.

Soon, the driver-side door opened, and a foot in men’s loafers stepped onto the ground.

When Jiang Luo woke up, it was already daylight. The streets were filled with people and vehicles.

He had slept soundly, without even dreaming, though his body felt a bit stiff from the hard bench.

As he got up and was about to stretch, he suddenly noticed a piece of clothing covering him. With his movement, it slowly slid toward the ground.

Huh?

Jiang Luo grabbed the clothing, slid his legs off the bench, and sat there staring at it.

It was a sapphire-blue suit.

Jiang Luo wondered how the suit got there. Had someone covered him with it?

He looked around but didn’t see anyone.

Looking back at the suit, he noticed it had no brand label. On the left lapel, there was a decorative pocket square. Judging by the style and fabric, it seemed like a custom-made suit.

Who was it?

And they even covered him with it?

Jiang Luo grew even more puzzled.

He checked the suit pockets—the left one was empty, but the right one had something inside. He pulled it out and found a stack of money.

Huh?

Jiang Luo picked it up and counted roughly five or six hundred yuan, along with some smaller bills.

Blinking in confusion, he thought to himself, *Was it some wealthy person who saw me sleeping on the street in the early hours and, out of kindness, felt a surge of sympathy?*

Jiang Luo chuckled, amused.

Well, if that’s sympathy, so be it.

He stuffed the money back into the pocket, picked up the suit, and left.

At the Jing'an Hilton, Xue Zhizhong arrived at the breakfast restaurant. As he entered, he spotted a man in a sapphire-blue suit eating breakfast alone in the nearly empty dining area. Xue immediately put on a smile, walked over, and greeted warmly, "Zongzhuo, eating?"

The man looked up.

He had a handsome, sharply defined face with prominent brow bones and a high nose bridge, deep-set eyes, thin lips, and an austere demeanor.

Seeing Xue Zhizhong, the man showed no particular expression but gestured for him to take a seat.

Xue Zhizhong sat down with a smile and asked, "How’s the breakfast here? Satisfied?"

"Hilton is a foreign brand, different from Huating. Since you frequently travel between China and abroad, I thought staying here would be more comfortable and familiar for you than other places."

Xue Zhizhong smiled, his face muscles nearly stiffening from the effort.

It wasn’t an act—anyone would fawn and smile eagerly when encountering a big shot like Huo Zongzhuo.

This was Huo Zongzhuo, after all.

Meanwhile, Jiang Luo arrived at the Jing'an Branch, munching on a bao as he sat down to check the real-time stock prices on the big screen.

"It’s up! Vacuum Tube is rising again!"

Jiang Luo stayed calm, holding his bun with the suit resting on his lap.

Soon, he joined the queue to buy an order slip, filled it out, and then pushed his way toward the counter.

Carrying the suit was inconvenient, so he simply put it on and merged into the crowd jostling toward the counter.

As he put it on, he couldn’t help but think, *How tall and broad-shouldered must the owner be? This suit is so big on me—it’s like a child in adult's clothing.*

Jostling through the crowd, holding his order slip high, he finally managed to pass it to the counter staff after a long struggle...

By the time Jiang Luo fought his way back from the counter, his shoes had been stepped on countless times, and the suit had gained several new wrinkles.

He smiled to himself, feeling content—Vacuum Tube had already reached 66.9.

From yesterday afternoon to today, he had made a pure profit of 600 yuan.

At the staff housing of the Second Silk Factory,

at home, Zhang Xiangping noticed Jiang Luo still hadn’t returned and asked Jiang Jianmin, "He went to the dance club again last night, didn’t he? It’s already nine o’clock, and he’s still not back?"

Jiang Jianmin, preparing to leave for work with a cigarette in hand, frowned and muttered, "Don’t bother. You know how it is—he can’t be controlled. Let him be. He’s not your son or mine. Why worry about him?"

He added, "When you get to the factory later, go to the office and call our son’s dorm. Tell Mingshi to come home for a meal when he has time."

"Let’s eat out," Zhang Xiangping suggested. "The house is too small."

She thought eating at a restaurant would be more respectable. The house was small, and she was afraid Zhao Mingshi would think less of them and their home.

"Right, right, let’s eat out," Jiang Jianmin immediately agreed, once reminded.

He smiled again. "Our own son is the one who’s really doing us proud. His grades are so good, and he got into Fudan."

"Those guys like Li Lao’er used to look down on me, but now I’m the one looking down on them."

"Did their sons get into university?"

"My own son is a top student at Fudan!"

Author's Note: