Chapter 7 Huo Zongzhuo

Chapter 7 Huo Zongzhuo

The man was strikingly different from everyone else in the brokerage hall.

Tall, long-legged, handsome, dressed in a well-pressed suit, he exuded a powerful aura and an air of impeccable refinement.

He stood in stark contrast to the ordinary appearance and demeanor of most people in the hall.

He stood out from the crowd.

And Jiang Luo had known this man from his previous life.

To be precise, he was aware of him—they knew each other, had crossed paths on many occasions, but unfortunately, they hadn't actually connected.

No business ties, no personal contact.

The man's name was Huo Zongzhuo, a full eleven years older than Jiang Luo.

At this time, he might only have some reputation in business circles.

But soon, this man would make a name for himself across the country by swapping everyday goods for airplanes.

In the instant Jiang Luo saw the man, he wondered: It's 1990, April—has Huo Zongzhuo already pulled off that airplane deal?

Oh, right, probably not yet.

Jiang Luo was also quite surprised. After all, in his previous life, whenever Huo Zongzhuo heard someone mention Jiang Luo or saw him, he would frown deeply and put on a stern face—most likely, he really disliked Jiang Luo.

So what was going on in this lifetime?

Not only did they run into each other at the brokerage hall, but Huo Zongzhuo was even offering him 100,000 yuan?

What was going on?

Jiang Luo didn't show any other reaction. Standing before the man, he looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

Huo Zongzhuo, with one hand in his pocket, said calmly, "Don’t believe me? You can write me an IOU too."

Jiang Luo then turned his head and glanced toward the tightly closed wooden door of the trading hall office not far away, making his meaning clear—a big shot like you shouldn’t you be inside? What are you doing out here?

Huo Zongzhuo understood Jiang Luo’s implication but didn't offer any explanation. He simply continued calmly, "What’s wrong? Don’t dare?"

Several people were standing around, and upon hearing Huo Zongzhuo’s words, someone immediately spoke up to the man: "Have you lost your mind too? He’s just an eighteen-year-old kid, and you’re giving him 100,000 yuan?"

"He’ll lose it all!"

"How's he gonna pay you back then?"

Someone else handed Jiang Luo’s ID card, which had been passed around twice, to Huo Zongzhuo: "Here's his ID."

"Take a good look—he’s eighteen."

"Even if he has a Vacuum Tube trading slip, the most he could pay back is ten thousand. How’s he going to repay you 100,000 yuan?"

Huo Zongzhuo reached out and took the ID card. Without looking at it, he just held it in his hand, his eyes still fixed on Jiang Luo.

Jiang Luo thought to himself, what kind of twist of fate was this, to run into Huo Zongzhuo so early in this life?

Had Huo Zongzhuo lost his mind?

And he was offering him 100,000 yuan too?

What was going on?

If it were anyone else, they would have been cautious, inwardly nervous. But Jiang Luo was naturally bold, and right now, he was in desperate need of seed money. Someone was handing him another 100,000 yuan.

100,000 yuan—in 1990, that was a fortune.

With that money, he could make even more in the stock market.

So without even hesitating, Jiang Luo paused for just a few seconds before raising an eyebrow again and saying to the man watching him, "Why wouldn’t I dare?"

Jiang Luo looked directly into the man’s eyes, his gaze like a predator's, steady and sharp: "If you dare to give me 100,000 yuan, I dare to take it."

Huo Zongzhuo gave a slight smile and said, "Write the IOU. I’ll go get the money."

With that, he turned and walked toward the entrance of the trading hall.

Someone followed him, watching as he walked out, headed a short distance away, and approached a car parked under a tree by the roadside. He opened the trunk.

The person muttered, "He’s rich, huh? Even has a car."

Jiang Luo crouched beside the chair where he had written the previous IOU, using a pen to write on a blank sheet of paper, writing up a second IOU. He signed his name and wrote the date of the loan.

Around him, people were whispering among themselves as they discussed Jiang Luo, the man, and these two "bets."

Soon, Huo Zongzhuo returned, holding a brick-like bundle wrapped in newspaper. Jiang Luo approached and handed him the IOU.

Huo Zongzhuo reached out, took it, glanced at it, and then handed the "newspaper brick" to Jiang Luo.

Jiang Luo opened it openly in front of everyone. The crowd murmured in surprise—inside the newspaper was clearly money.

There was so much of it—100 bills per stack, ten stacks in total, exactly 100,000 yuan.

Jiang Luo quickly counted the money, then held up the "brick" toward the man with a lifted eyebrow, casually glancing at the pocket square in Huo Zongzhuo’s suit jacket.

Huo Zongzhuo asked him, "For how long?"

Jiang Luo countered, "How many days can you lend it to me? How many days do you want to lend it?"

Huo Zongzhuo replied evenly, "It's all the same to me. Up to you."

Jiang Luo thought to himself that Huo Zongzhuo could be this generous when he was feeling generous.

He considered it, thinking about how he needed to repay the money to Lu Fuhua in a few days, and said, "Starting from tomorrow, three days."

Huo Zongzhuo looked at him: "You don't want to borrow it for longer?"

Jiang Luo turned sideways, angling his body to leave, and before leaving, held up the "brick" again. His expression relaxed, his tone casual, he said, "We’re just strangers who met by chance—three days is enough."

He added, "Don’t worry. After three days, I’ll pay you back every cent, plus half of whatever I make."

With that, he left to fill out a trade slip, rushing to the counter to place another trade before the hall closed.

Huo Zongzhuo stood where he was, one hand in his pocket, watching the young man walk away.

Around him, people kept whispering.

The bespectacled man, clutching his bag, sidled up to Huo Zongzhuo. He looked at the man and said, "How could you take that risk?"

He could tell the man had money; just by looking at his attire and demeanor, he wasn't some average guy.

The man with glasses said, "He's out of his mind, giving him 100k."

"With a hundred thousand, you could buy a house."

Huo Zongzhuo was still watching Jiang Luo's back as he walked away, saying nothing, though a spark of clear interest passed through his eyes.

Later, the brokerage office closed for the day, and everyone started heading out.

Jiang Luo didn’t have a bag; aside from the money tucked in the inner pocket of his jacket, he was carrying the brick-like stack of cash wrapped in newspaper.

As he walked out, Huo Zongzhuo walked alongside him, one hand in his trouser pocket.

Huo Zongzhuo reached over, holding Jiang Luo’s ID card between his fingers. Jiang Luo turned and saw it, hesitating quietly for a moment. He didn’t take it immediately and asked, "Aren’t you going to keep it?"

Huo Zongzhuo continued to hold it out, saying, "Take it back. Don’t lose it later."

Jiang Luo said nothing more and accepted it.

They had already stepped out of the brokerage office doors.

Huo Zongzhuo then asked, "Where do you live? I’ll give you a ride."

"No need."

Jiang Luo also stopped and looked at the man. "I live nearby. I can walk back myself."

As he spoke, he raised the money in his hand again. "I’m heading out."

With that, he made to leave.

Huo Zongzhuo suddenly said, "Let me treat you to a meal."

Jiang Luo paused mid-step, turned to look at the man, and this time he was really weirded out.

In his previous life, Huo Zongzhuo had perhaps disliked his personality or his way of handling things, or maybe hadn’t approved of his abilities or the businesses he ran. In any case, he had almost always frowned or worn a cold expression whenever they met. Otherwise, given Jiang Luo’s sociable nature, he would have certainly tried to build a connection with such a big shot.

Because of this, even though they had met much earlier in this life by some twist of fate, and Huo Zongzhuo hadn’t been cold—even proactively offering him a hundred thousand—Jiang Luo hadn’t tried to ingratiate himself.

But now, why did he feel like Huo Zongzhuo seemed quite eager to chat him up?

What was going on?

Jiang Luo looked at the man, genuinely perplexed. "Do we have any connection? Do I know you?"

"You lent me a hundred thousand, and now you want to have a meal with me?"

Jiang Luo began to wonder what Huo Zongzhuo’s motive could be.

But after a moment’s thought, it was clear: he was only eighteen, flat broke and going nowhere. Even if Huo Zongzhuo hadn’t yet achieved his later fame or "changed planes," he was already successful, with plenty of money and status.

Why would someone like that, instead of dining with leaders or business partners, want to eat with him?

"What do you want?"

Jiang Luo was baffled.

"Can’t I just have a meal with a kid for no reason?"

Huo Zongzhuo remained calm, his gaze steady on Jiang Luo.

He added, "Do you want to grab a quick bite nearby, or go to a hotel, or maybe eat at the Bund?"

"I’m staying at the Hilton. It’s not too far, and the restaurant there is quite good."

?

Huo Zongzhuo called him a kid?

Jiang Luo was even more confused.

Based on his limited but not superficial understanding of Huo Zongzhuo, the man was always busy schmoozing for business and social engagements. How did he have the leisure to eat with a kid like him?

"Why?"

Jiang Luo asked directly, as always. "You seem very interested in me?"

This was something Jiang Luo could clearly sense from Huo Zongzhuo’s attitude.

It was also the only feeling he could articulate.

If it wasn’t interest, what else could it be?

In fact, if it were anyone else, or if Jiang Luo weren’t an eighteen-year-old with nothing to his name, his sharp intuition would have likely detected the underlying implications behind this "interest" and guessed what kind of interest it really was.

For men, it usually came down to business, preferences, relationships, or what's in their pants.

But Jiang Luo happened to have a "stereotype" about Huo Zongzhuo—

In his previous life, he had heard early on that Huo Zongzhuo might be impotent, hence his lack of interest in men or women, with no one by his side, no marriage, and no children.

Because of this subconscious impression, Jiang Luo hadn’t even considered that possibility with Huo Zongzhuo.

Besides, he was only eighteen now, and Huo Zongzhuo was a full eleven years older. How could he have imagined that Huo Zongzhuo would be into someone way younger?

After thinking it through, Jiang Luo concluded that Huo Zongzhuo was probably just curious about an eighteen-year-old buying stocks, making bets, and borrowing money.

Huo Zongzhuo remained calm and admitted, "I am indeed interested in you."

"I’ve been coming to the brokerage office lately and often see you here."

"You’re only eighteen. It’s pretty unusual to see someone your age buying stocks."

"You’re also bold, daring to buy Yanzhong stock at a time like this, and even making bets and borrowing money."

So that was it?

Jiang Luo nodded, didn’t overthink it, and shrugged, cool with it. "Alright then, let’s eat."

"The Hilton, right? Then let’s go to the Hilton."

Huo Zongzhuo gave a slight smile and led Jiang Luo in another direction to where his car was parked.

As they approached and Jiang Luo saw the car, he was honestly impressed—Huo Zongzhuo drove a BMW.

Jiang Luo thought to himself: Driving a BMW in 1990? Impressive.

Huo Zongzhuo then did something:

Perhaps he thought Jiang Luo had never been in a car and didn’t know how to open the door?

Or maybe it was for some other reason?

He walked to the passenger side and opened the door for Jiang Luo, acting very proper and gentlemanly.

Jiang Luo walked over and couldn’t help glancing at the man, thinking, "If only you had been like this in the past life."

Seeing Jiang Luo glance at him, Huo Zongzhuo asked, "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing."

Jiang Luo lowered his head and got into the car.

He reflexively reached out to pull the door shut, while Huo Zongzhuo also held the outside handle, and together they closed the passenger door.

A moment later, Huo Zongzhuo got into the car. Jiang Luo was eyeing the 1990 BMW.

Huo Zongzhuo leaned toward Jiang Luo and said, "Seatbelt," reaching over to pull out the seatbelt for Jiang Luo.

Jiang Luo reached out to pull it himself and, unaware of how close Huo Zongzhuo was—close enough to feel his breath on his face—accidentally grazed the man’s hand while pulling the seatbelt.

"I’ll do it myself."

Jiang Luo, oblivious, fastened his seatbelt on his own.

Huo Zongzhuo withdrew his hand and, before leaning back, glanced at Jiang Luo, his gaze intense, his expression unreadable.

After fastening his seatbelt, Jiang Luo instinctively looked up, but Huo Zongzhuo had already settled back, his expression neutral as he fastened his own seatbelt.

"Western food?" Jiang Luo asked casually.

It’s the Hilton—might as well go foreign.

Huo Zongzhuo, keeping his eyes on the road as he started the car, replied, "Sure, Western food works."

Author's Note:

Hehehehe, it’s my favorite age gap + older man pairing [wicked grin].