Chapter 22 Dining

Chapter 22: A Meal

Huo Zongzhuo was somewhat surprised by the answer.

So many people around him wanted to work with him.

Even a prominent Wenzhou businessman like Xue Zhizhong wanted a piece of his pie.

Jiang Luo was, arguably, the first person he had actively invited who explicitly turned him down.

"Why?"

Huo Zongzhuo looked at the young man. "Doing business in the real world isn't like being in school."

"While you can make some money doing almost anything these days,"

"in business, having someone to guide you is certainly better than fumbling around on your own."

Huo Zongzhuo even suggested, "If you want to work independently, you can wait until you're a bit older and more experienced."

"Before that, isn't it better to have someone to follow than to blindly stumble around?"

"Who told you I'm 'blindly stumbling around'?"

Jiang Luo took a sip of juice, his tone once again a little brazen, or perhaps, blunt.

Anyone else might have been annoyed, but Huo Zongzhuo wasn't. In fact, he rather liked this boldness in Jiang Luo and admired it greatly.

Huo Zongzhuo: "Let me rephrase—'inexperienced.'"

Jiang Luo: "Experience will come."

Huo Zongzhuo confirmed again: "You're not coming to work for me?"

Jiang Luo finished the last sip of juice, placed the glass on the coffee table, and shook his head. "No."

Huo Zongzhuo didn't give up: "How much do you think you can earn by acquiring, or rather, trading, trading an airplane?"

"How much can you make on your own in Wenzhou in half a year?"

"One hundred thousand, two hundred thousand? Three hundred thousand?"

Jiang Luo smiled faintly and shook his head again. "No thanks, I'll do it myself."

Huo Zongzhuo was serious, not joking: "You could name your own salary working here with me."

Jiang Luo leaned back on the sofa: "I'm flattered you think so highly of me."

"I also know that getting planes from the Soviet Union to China involves a lot of procedures just for foreign trade qualifications. You need someone to handle these for you, and you need someone to help you coordinate enough consumer goods from various provinces and cities to trade with the Soviet Union for the planes."

Huo Zongzhuo: "Did I mention earlier that I was going to trade consumer goods for planes?"

Jiang Luo had slipped up, but he wasn't flustered at all. He shrugged, tilted his head, raised an eyebrow, and gave a sly grin. "Didn't you? I don't remember. You must have, otherwise..."

"Otherwise, how would I know you're planning to trade consumer goods for planes?"

Huo Zongzhuo indeed began to recall whether he had mentioned it earlier.

"Alright."

Jiang Luo stood up: "I'm heading back to my room too."

"Thanks for the juice. That drink really hit the spot."

Even as he said this, he wobbled a bit on his feet.

Huo Zongzhuo stood up, reached out an arm, and caught Jiang Luo: "Be careful."

"It's fine."

Jiang Luo stepped around the sofa.

Huo Zongzhuo withdrew his hand and left with him, walking to the elevator: "How many more days are you staying in Wenzhou?"

Jiang Luo: "I'll be sticking around for a while."

"What about you?"

Huo Zongzhuo: "I'll be staying a few more days too."

As they walked, he added: "Are you free tomorrow? Let's grab dinner together in the evening."

Jiang Luo turned his head and teased: "You sure like eating with me, huh?"

He raised his hand and snapped his fingers: "I'm free. Let's meet in the lobby at six."

He turned back again: "You pick the place. My treat."

Huo Zongzhuo, seeing Jiang Luo's confident, bold, and composed demeanor, felt a warmth toward him, and a smile unconsciously spread across his face: "Alright, see you at six in the evening."

They entered the elevator together, and Huo Zongzhuo asked Jiang Luo: "What floor are you on?"

Jiang Luo chatted: "Twelfth floor."

Huo Zongzhuo hummed in acknowledgment: "I'm on the top floor."

"The presidential suite?"

Jiang Luo teased again: "Big shot, as expected of a big shot."

Huo Zongzhuo smiled: "If you'd come work with me, you could've stayed on the top floor too."

The elevator attendant in the corner perked up his ears and listened, silently shocked: What had he just heard!?

Follow?

Did that mean what he thought?

Were the big bosses staying on the top floor not into women anymore?

The young man felt he had heard something he shouldn't have.

Soon, the elevator doors opened. Jiang Luo stepped out, then belatedly caught the double meaning. He turned around and looked back into the elevator: "What do you mean, 'follow'? That came out wrong."

Huo Zongzhuo stood tall in the elevator, hands in his pockets, just smiled back at Jiang Luo.

The next morning, Wang Chuang, who had drunk too much, couldn't get up to save his life. He was sound asleep in his own bed, dead to the world.

Jiang Luo, rubbing his aching temples, got up, changed, and washed up, had a quick bite at the restaurant, and went to Zhang Zhiqiang's factory.

Arriving at the office in the factory, Jiang Luo sipped tea to wake himself up while listening to Zhang Zhiqiang across the tea table say to him, "Master Jiang, yesterday you mentioned wanting to acquire those low-voltage electrical workshops in Yueqing. After thinking about it, it seems pretty sketchy."

Zhang Zhiqiang brewed the tea: "You must have heard from the news, right? Here in Wenzhou, there's a lot of counterfeit stuff."

"Before, Hangzhou even torched a bunch of fake leather goods produced here. It was broadcast on the news and made waves."

"In Yueqing, there are also plenty of counterfeit operations."

"Besides, it seems like they’re undergoing a local crackdown there lately. It might not be the best time to buy workshops."

Jiang Luo blew on the surface of his tea, thinking to himself: Local crackdowns are just for show. Just wait, soon the central government will send people to carry out a real crackdown.

"Is that so?"

Jiang Luo drank his tea calmly.

His demeanor seemed as though he didn’t believe Zhang Zhiqiang’s words, so Zhang Zhiqiang quickly jumped in to reassure him: "It’s true. If it weren’t, how would I dare say such a thing?"

"I wouldn’t intentionally get in Master Jiang’s way of making money."

"I’m just worried you might not be familiar with the local situation and might get scammed when you go there."

Little did Zhang Zhiqiang know, Jiang Luo was precisely waiting for the crackdown in Yueqing.

He also had no idea that Jiang Luo’s earlier mention of wanting to buy workshops in Yueqing was actually feeling him out.

If Zhang Zhiqiang could give it to him straight, then in the future, if needed, Jiang Luo would still consider working with him.

If Zhang Zhiqiang said nothing and let Jiang Luo go to Yueqing blindly, then after this deal was completed, Jiang Luo naturally wouldn’t seek him out again.

Yes, Jiang Luo was looking for someone he could collaborate with long-term.

Zhang Zhiqiang’s earlier distrust and the attitude he showed at the train station was water under the bridge to Jiang Luo.

In the business world, what matters isn’t personality or attitude, but profits and character.

The fact that Zhang Zhiqiang was willing to reveal that the workshops in Yueqing were unreliable made Jiang Luo feel that this person’s character was decent enough, and there was room for further cooperation.

"Alright, thanks, Boss Zhang. I’ll be sure to keep my eyes open."

Jiang Luo set down his tea, his expression and demeanor as calm as ever, not looking drunk at all.

Zhang Zhiqiang then added, "I’ve got family over in Yueqing."

"If there’s anything Master Jiang wants to know later, I can take you to my relatives."

Jiang Luo thought Zhang Zhiqiang was fairly reliable: "Okay, thanks, Boss Zhang."

Boss Zhang handed him another cup of tea: "No problem at all. Here, have some tea."

When Jiang Luo returned to the hotel before dinner, Wang Chuang wasn’t there, and he didn’t leave a note. No idea where he’d gone.

Jiang Luo didn’t bother about him either—a grown man can take care of himself. Wenzhou was pretty safe; nothing’s gonna happen.

Jiang Luo washed his hands with soap, dried them with a towel, then left his room and went downstairs to the lobby.

Just as he stepped out of the elevator and walked toward the lobby, Huo Zongzhuo happened to come in through the revolving door.

"What do you feel like eating?"

Jiang Luo saw Huo Zongzhuo and walked over to him.

Huo Zongzhuo checked his watch: "Let’s go find a seafood restaurant."

Jiang Luo laughed and joked, "Not planning to go easy on my cash, huh? You know I’ve made some money?"

Huo Zongzhuo also laughed and teased, "If you can’t pay, you can stick around and wash dishes."

Jiang Luo wasn’t afraid of that: "I’ll drag you into washing them with me."

They got into the car; this time, Huo Zongzhuo was in a Volkswagen.

Jiang Luo teased again: "Where’s the Beemer today?"

Huo Zongzhuo joked back: "Because Wenzhou is too broke. Can’t afford a BMW, so nobody loaned me one to drive."

Jiang Luo laughed. He reflected that he and Huo Zongzhuo got along quite well. It was strange how, back then, Huo Zongzhuo had always given him cold looks everywhere.

They casually found a nice seafood place nearby and entered a private room. Since Huo Zongzhuo didn’t order, he directly pushed the menu to Jiang Luo, who proceeded to order all sorts of local seafood like lobster, crab, clams, abalone, and all kinds of stuff.

Huo Zongzhuo said, "We can’t eat this much."

Jiang Luo replied, "If we can’t finish, we’ll just waste it."

Huo Zongzhuo called the waitress back and removed four dishes.

The waitress left, shutting the door on her way out.

Huo Zongzhuo poured tea as they chatted: "Why are you alone? Is your friend not with you?"

Jiang Luo: "Yeah, not sure where he went. Probably out doing his own thing somewhere."

He then asked: "What about you? Are you planning to move a lot of stuff from Wenzhou to the Soviet Union?"

Huo Zongzhuo: "Yeah, pretty much. I’ve contacted a few…"

They ate and talked, the vibe was good.

As they were nearly finished, Huo Zongzhuo got back from washing up, picked up his suit jacket slung over a chair, fished through the pocket, and pulled something out, handing it to Jiang Luo.

Jiang Luo had just wiped his hands clean. He took it curiously: "What is it?"

It was a box about the size of his palm.

Taking a closer look, Jiang Luo was speechless for a second—Huo Zongzhuo had given him a pager.

It was worth noting that it was only 1990. Although Haicheng had had pager services as early as the 1980s, at least this year, pagers hadn’t caught on everywhere yet and were still pretty rare.

"Why are you giving me this?"

Jiang Luo naturally asked.

Huo Zongzhuo wiped his hands with the restaurant’s hot towel: "So we can keep in touch easier."

"You shouldn’t have."

Jiang Luo smiled.

He didn’t beat around the bush. Holding up the box in his hand, he said appreciatively: "Thanks, man."

Teasing him: "A seafood meal in exchange for a pager."

He added: "Do you have one? Actually, just give me your number, and I'll call you. It's the same."

Huo Zongzhuo: "I had a pager before, but I found it annoying—it was always going off—so I tossed it and got a Motorola instead."

"You know, a mobile phone."

Jiang Luo understood—he meant one of those brick phones from back in the day.

Jiang Luo said without hesitation: "Give me your number, so we can reach each other if anything comes up."

Huo Zongzhuo was surprised again: "You know what a mobile phone is?"

Jiang Luo said cheerfully: "I told you, I know a thing or two."

Huo Zongzhuo and Jiang Luo both laughed.

Author's note: