Chapter 11 Dirty Tricks

Chapter 11: Dirty Tricks

The suit belonged to Huo Zongzhuo. Days earlier, at the Bund, he had seen Jiang Luo asleep on a chair and covered him with it.

He had always assumed Jiang Luo didn't know it was him, never imagining Jiang Luo had been aware all along.

Taking out the suit, Huo Zongzhuo found, besides a neatly folded pocket square at the bottom of the bag, a stack of something wrapped squarely in newspaper.

Huo Zongzhuo knew at a glance it was money—no wonder the bag felt so heavy.

He first took out the pocket square, glanced at it, and caught a faint scent of laundry detergent and sun-dried fabric.

Setting it aside, Huo Zongzhuo picked up the money. Hefted it in his palm, he could tell it was more than 100,000 yuan.

He unwrapped the newspaper, revealing bundles of hundred-yuan bills, each totaling 10,000 yuan.

Huo Zongzhuo counted them—exactly 120,000 yuan in whole bills, with an additional one or two thousand in smaller denominations.

According to their agreement, the 100,000 yuan was the principal, and any profit was to be split evenly.

Did Jiang Luo make 40,000 yuan in just three days?

No.

Huo Zongzhuo quickly recalled recent stock prices and did some quick mental math. There was no way Jiang Luo could have made that much.

So…

Did Jiang Luo give him all the profits?

Holding the money, Huo Zongzhuo froze for a moment, utterly astonished.

Remembering something, he set the money aside and felt inside the suit pockets. He found the few hundred yuan he had intentionally left there earlier and also pulled out a piece of paper with just a few words written on it: "Thanks. See you around."

The next morning, Huo Zongzhuo went to the Jing'an Securities Branch. The place was crowded again, even more so than the day before.

Huo Zongzhuo glanced around at the entrance before stepping inside, his eyes scanning the room, but he never caught sight of Jiang Luo.

He did, however, quickly spot the man with glasses through the crowd. The man with glasses saw him too, raised a hand, waved, smiled, and hurried over. As he approached, he said, "That kid paid you back, right?"

"Must be a lot, huh?!"

"You gave him 100,000 yuan, after all!"

"The stock market's been insane lately!"

The man with glasses was smiling.

Huo Zongzhuo didn’t smile back. Instead, he asked, "Where’s Jiang Luo?"

The man with glasses adjusted his glasses and said, "He left. I asked him, and he said he'd returned your money. After giving me the money, he left. He mentioned he had other things to do soon and wouldn't be coming back."

Huo Zongzhuo walked out of the branch, his gaze sweeping over the groups of people gathered at the entrance, but he never found Jiang Luo.

—

Jiang Luo had just arrived at Oriental No. 1 when a few people, including Zhu Yu, or Brother Yu, surrounded him, saying they needed to have a talk.

Zhu Yu slung an arm over Jiang Luo’s shoulder, a roguish grin on his face. "Come with me. Let’s have a proper chat."

Upon reaching a narrow alley outside the club, Zhu Yu demanded Jiang Luo hand over all the money tucked inside his jacket, saying with a cocky grin, "We've been good to you, haven't we, bro?"

"Taking you smoking, drinking, hooking up with girls, even riding motorcycles along the Bund late at night."

"And you? When you get some cash, you hide it all for yourself?"

Zhu Yu stood in front of Jiang Luo, hand outstretched as if he already knew Jiang Luo had money on him: "Come on, hand it over."

Seeing Jiang Luo remain still, Zhu Yu narrowed his eyes: "What? You want us to do it for you? Prefer the hard way?"

"We gotta rough you up a bit before you cough it up?"

Jiang Luo looked at Zhu Yu, saying nothing, his expression unreadable. He just unzipped his jacket, pulled out a stack of money wrapped in newspaper, and handed it over.

Zhu Yu took it without ceremony, smirking: "That's more like it."

He added offhandedly, "Don't worry, we'll still show you a good time. You'll still get your cut."

Then, with a careless jerk of his chin: "Looking for Brother Hua? Go on, he's in the office."

Zhu Yu grinned smugly, his companions behind him laughing along, clearly amused by the scene.

Jiang Luo gave them a dismissive glance, ignored everyone, turned, and headed back into Oriental Number One to find Lu Fuhua.

As he walked, Zhu Yu caught up, throwing an arm around Jiang Luo's shoulder, grinning with curiosity: "What's up with you? Did you piss off the big boss?"

The day Jiang Luo came to borrow money from Lu Fuhua, Zhu Yu was called into the office right after and specifically told to wait about a week, then intercept Jiang Luo when he came by with cash and take the money.

Having done exactly that, Zhu Yu was naturally curious about why Lu Fuhua had ordered it.

Jiang Luo kept walking, curling his lip slightly, replying calmly, "You're asking me? You just took all my money. Think I'm in the mood now to explain?"

"Come on," Zhu Yu patted his shoulder, "We're still gonna hang together, see each other all the time. Just taking a little cash, don't get mad."

Jiang Luo gave a dry chuckle: "Mad? Why would I be mad?"

He wasn't angry at all.

Once inside the office, Zhu Yu tossed the newspaper-wrapped money to Lu Fuhua right in front of Jiang Luo, not even bothering to pretend—just outright arrogant.

Lu Fuhua caught the money but smiled at Jiang Luo: "Xiao Jiang, here to repay the loan?"

He added leisurely, "Still got any money left? If not, we'll just follow our earlier agreement."

He then exchanged a look with Zhu Yu and smiled.

It was a clear, blatant setup.

Jiang Luo stood there, smirking calmly: "Brother, what you're doing now—isn't it a bit much?"

"Too much?" Lu Fuhua, lounging in his soft chair, weighed the money in his hand, still relaxed and smiling. "Just figuring that out now? Too late."

"If you hadn't been so bold borrowing money back then, would you be in this spot today?"

Zhu Yu laughed too. Even if he didn't know why Jiang Luo was being targeted, someone else's misfortune was always entertaining to watch.

But soon enough, neither Lu Fuhua nor Zhu Yu could laugh anymore—

Jiang Luo slowly reached both hands into his trouser pockets, pulled out a wad of cash from the left pocket and another from the right, stepped forward, and tossed them all onto Lu Fuhua’s desk. As he did, he said unhurriedly, "As agreed, eleven thousand. I’ve repaid it."

Lu Fuhua looked and saw it was all real money, not fake.

He hurriedly opened the newspaper-wrapped item in his hand, tore the paper away, and stared—what he held wasn’t money at all, but a stack of joss paper.

Lu Fuhua’s face instantly darkened. Grinding his teeth, he threw the stack of joss paper at Zhu Yu: "Are you fucking blind or what!?"

Zhu Yu’s expression also changed: "I—"

He looked at Jiang Luo, raised a finger, and pointed at him: "You motherf—"

He moved to confront Jiang Luo but was stopped by Lu Fuhua, who threw something else at him: "Get out! You good-for-nothing dog!"

Zhu Yu gritted his teeth, pointed at Jiang Luo again, and left.

As soon as the door closed, Lu Fuhua’s eyes darted, his expression changed, and he smiled. Reaching out to take the money on the desk, he said, "Look how this turned out. Actually…"

Jiang Luo reached out, pressed down on Lu Fuhua’s hand as he tried to take the money, looked at the man, and said decisively, "The IOU."

Lu Fuhua spoke kindly: "At least let me count the money, right?"

Jiang Luo didn’t yield: "The IOU."

"Alright, alright, I’ll get it."

Lu Fuhua didn’t argue, withdrew his hand, opened a drawer, took out the IOU Jiang Luo had written earlier, and tossed it on the desk.

Jiang Luo reached out, picked it up, unfolded it, and glanced at it—it was the IOU he had written.

"See? I didn’t trick you."

Lu Fuhua reached for the money on the desk: "In business, you’ve got to have basic honesty, right?"

Now he wore a completely different face.

Jiang Luo tore the IOU in front of him, looked at the man, and said coolly, "Count it. Eleven thousand total, not a cent short."

Lu Fuhua licked his fingers and began counting the money. As he counted, he said, "Originally, I only lent you five thousand—five thousand repaid as six. Later, I lent you ten thousand and only asked for an extra thousand, not two. Your Brother Hua is pretty fair, right?"

He snorted: "So you actually scored big? You’re something else."

"Maybe I’ll go buy some stocks too someday. Who knows, I might hit it big."

When he finished counting, it was exactly eleven thousand—not a cent less, not a cent more.

Lu Fuhua put the money back in the drawer and smiled: "Xiao Jiang, about that thing I mentioned last time… maybe we can discuss it again?"

He tried to persuade, hoping to sway Jiang Luo: "My uncle’s idea isn’t to make you actually do anything. Just keep him company, relax, eat, chat—that’s all."

"How about this: I’ll give you twelve hundred bucks, just like that. What do you say?"

"Twelve hundred is a lot, right?"

"Afterward, if my uncle is happy, I’ll give you a little extra. How about that?"

When underhanded tactics failed, he switched to a softer approach.

But Jiang Luo laughed, a careless laugh.

"How about it?"

Seeing a possible opening, Lu Fuhua immediately promised: "After you’re done, I’ll make you manager in the main hall, in charge of Zhu Yu and the others."

"Your salary and bonuses won’t be short."

"You can drink whatever you want here."

"Sure."

Jiang Luo agreed.

He added something else, and Lu Fuhua immediately clapped his hands and promised: "Okay, okay, no problem. As long as you agree."

He picked up the landline on the desk, ready to immediately share the good news with Xue Zhizhong.

Soon, Jiang Luo came out, escorted by Lu Fuhua, who had an arm around his shoulder.

Zhu Yu had been waiting at the door, ready to teach that little brat who’d deliberately tricked him a lesson as soon as he stepped out.

Unexpectedly, Lu Fuhua came out too, with his arm around Jiang Luo’s shoulder, looking especially pleased and supportive.

Zhu Yu stopped in his tracks and didn’t approach immediately.

"Shoo, shoo."

Lu Fuhua saw him and waved dismissively: "Don’t stand there being an eyesore."

Zhu Yu could only clench his jaw and step aside.

Lu Fuhua, walking arm-in-arm with Jiang Luo, said in a friendly tone, "My uncle just said he’ll get you some designer clothes, a good pair of shoes, a proper haircut, and then…"

A lazy smile played on Jiang Luo’s lips as he thought to himself: Go fuck your mother.

You dare mess with me? Well, I dare mess with you.

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