Chapter 64 Figuring It Out

Chapter 64: The Epiphany

Jiang Luo would forever remember the day his factory burned down in his previous life, and the utter despair that consumed him.

Equipment, machinery, inventory, fabric—all gone, reduced to ashes in a single blaze. The entire factory compound was engulfed in flames, like a ravenous beast baring its fangs, or a grand, terrifying sacrifice.

As the fire raged, Jiang Luo had no time for thought. He rushed frantically among the crowd fighting the inferno. When he heard workers were still trapped inside, he was more anxious than anyone, desperate to charge into the flames without a second thought.

By dawn, the fire was finally extinguished, but the factory was a charred ruin, and two workers had perished. Soot-covered, Jiang Luo stood at the factory gate, watching. In that instant, his spirit drained away as if pulled by a thread, leaving him utterly hollow, a mere exhausted shell.

It was more than despair; it was a profound desiccation. Jiang Luo was too numb to even cry.

Afterward, he walked alone along the field paths near the factory, aimless and directionless, just walking, walking, moving forward.

He knew in his heart that such a thorough fire could only mean someone intended to ruin him, to destroy him completely.

But at that time, Jiang Luo felt he could die, yet how could his factory simply burn to the ground?

His money, his loans, his career, his life, his future—everything was tied up in that factory.

Without the factory, what did he have left?

Jiang Luo continued walking numbly, not even knowing where he was going.

It was only years later that Jiang Luo realized he had lost all will to live back then. The factory was gone, everything turned to ash. In his despair, as he walked through the fields, he had actually been contemplating finding a river to drown himself in, to end it all.

That experience, and the despair and helplessness he felt, were branded onto his very soul. Not just for one lifetime—even across two lives, he had never forgotten it, and never would.

To this day, Jiang Luo still couldn't bring himself to easily revisit a single moment from that night the factory burned.

It was like a blunt knife slowly carving into his heart, then rubbing salt into the wound.

Even in this second life, the pain lingered.

But today, at this very moment, not long after nearly losing his life and walking through even darker, more disorienting fields, Jiang Luo felt a divine clarity and suddenly understood.

He realized that whether you live one life or two, you're just living this damn life.

When Guo Ronghai lunged at him with a knife, he wasn't all that scared. What was the big deal about a factory burning down in his previous life?

Could a factory really be more important than his life?

He also suddenly understood that in his previous life, his despair wasn't about the factory itself—it was about the immense effort he had poured into it.

Because he had invested tremendous energy and painstaking effort to build that factory from scratch.

His money, his hopes, his future—all were contained within that factory.

With the factory gone, not only would he have no income, but he would also be burdened with debt and compensation. He felt his life was over, that he had no future.

Back then, he simply didn't know where else to go without the factory.

No path forward—wasn't that just pushing him to his death?

But now it was different. He knew his direction, and what he wanted to do in the future.

As long as he was alive, he could keep going!

With this sudden realization, Jiang Luo completely let go of the pain from the factory fire in his previous life.

He wondered why he had been so blindly desperate back then.

The factory burned, but at least he didn't die.

Since he was still alive, what was there to fear?

As long as a person had this damn life, they could always turn things around.

Jiang Luo's epiphany brought him immense relief and genuine joy.

He felt that from now on, nothing could defeat him except losing his life.

And what was there to fear about losing his life?

Hadn't he already died once?

Death was just like that.

Hadn't heaven even given him a second life?

Jiang Luo burst into laughter, the reason for his mirth known only to himself.

But Huo Zongzhuo, who was holding him at that moment, could only wonder if he had been traumatized, if he was losing his mind.

Huo Zongzhuo felt both anxious and concerned. He released Jiang Luo, raised his hand to cup Jiang Luo’s face, and stared nervously at the young man who kept laughing. “Jiang Luo? Jiang Luo! What’s wrong with you? Look at me, look at me!”

Jiang Luo continued to laugh, his laughter both joyous and a little wild.

He laughed and said, “Huo Zongzhuo, my factory burned down.”

What?

Huo Zongzhuo frowned.

Jiang Luo smiled, his eyes shining. “But I’ve figured it out. I’m not sad anymore. I don’t care.”

Huo Zongzhuo didn’t understand, feeling that Jiang Luo might truly be disoriented.

He decided to take Jiang Luo away immediately, to the hospital.

But Jiang Luo suddenly stepped forward, hugged Huo Zongzhuo tightly, and whispered in his ear, “I’m really happy.”

“Figuring something out can make you this happy.”

“Huo Zongzhuo, I really feel so happy.”

After leaving the villager’s house, Huo Zongzhuo drove, taking Jiang Luo back to Haicheng immediately.

On the way, Huo Zongzhuo called Wang Chuang while driving, informing him that Jiang Luo had been found. He made a few other calls as well, making necessary arrangements.

In the passenger seat, Jiang Luo was in such a great mood that he started singing to himself: “Spring goes, spring will return; flowers wither, flowers will bloom again. As long as you’re willing, as long as you’re willing, let dreams sail into your heart…” (Note 1)

His voice was clear and bright, filling the small car with an unusual fervor.

It was also a song Huo Zongzhuo had never heard before.

Huo Zongzhuo hung up the phone, set the mobile phone aside, and kept glancing worriedly at Jiang Luo.

He hoped Jiang Luo would calm down. Jiang Luo's current state worried him greatly; he suspected Guo Ronghai had done something, otherwise Jiang Luo wouldn't have been provoked into acting like this.

Huo Zongzhuo pressed harder on the gas, mentally dismembering Guo Ronghai ten thousand times over.

After finishing the previous song, Jiang Luo started singing in Cantonese:

"Even if fate is wandering and displaced,

Even if fate is full of twists and turns,

Even if fate is threatening you,

Life isn't worth living,

Don't shed tears, don't feel heartache, and don't give up,

I wish to accompany you for a lifetime…"

[Note: Cantonese song lyrics from 'Red Sun' by Hacken Lee]

Finally, after singing for a while, Jiang Luo stopped and grew quiet.

Leaning against the passenger seat, he let out a low laugh and glanced at Huo Zongzhuo, who was driving in silence. "Do I seem like I've lost it?"

Knowing Huo Zongzhuo was worried, he added, "Don't worry, I'm fine. Guo Ronghai didn't do anything to me."

"He wanted revenge, to stab me, to blind me. He even picked up a knife, so I threatened him with his wife, son, and mother in the U.S. and Taiwan."

"He was hit where it hurt, and I had him right where I wanted him."

"Then I offered him money and said I'd smooth things over for him with Li Fengrui. He said he had nothing to lose against someone like me. When he untied me, I took my chance to grab the knife, stabbed his shoulder, and broke his leg with a stool so he couldn't chase me."

Seeing Jiang Luo’s clear thinking and that he was no longer out of his mind, Huo Zongzhuo felt slightly relieved.

He reached out, his broad palm cupping Jiang Luo’s head and face. "Are you sure you're okay? He didn't do anything to you?"

Jiang Luo: "No."

After a pause, "But he's not okay. I stabbed him in the shoulder, putting all my strength into it, and broke his leg. I don't know if he's dead now."

Huo Zongzhuo said in a low, dark voice, "He deserves to die."

Jiang Luo: "If he dies, it'll be troublesome. I'm really afraid he might die."

He suggested, "Before dawn, let's go back and check."

"Don't let him actually die."

Huo Zongzhuo replied, "No need. I already have people looking for him. You don't need to worry. I'm taking you back now to the hospital."

Jiang Luo thought of the village party secretary earlier. "Did you use connections? Report to the police?"

Huo Zongzhuo gave a curt 'mm'. "When I realized you were missing and couldn't reach you, I called in favors to pull all available surveillance footage, especially at Sincere Department Store where you parked."

"It wasn't an official police report, just through private channels."

He added, "Don't worry, I didn't send the police after your kidnapper."

Implying that no one would know Jiang Luo had stabbed someone, and even if Guo Ronghai died, the police wouldn't be involved.

When they reached Haicheng, without even heading into the city proper, Huo Zongzhuo found the nearest hospital and took Jiang Luo to the ER for necessary examinations.

The examination showed nothing seriously wrong, just obvious external injuries on the back of his neck and head, along with a mild concussion.

Huo Zongzhuo insisted and called in more favors, so Jiang Luo was admitted to a single room in the hospital for the night.

As he lay down on the hospital bed, Jiang Luo said with exasperation, repeatedly emphasizing, "I'm fine, why do I need to be hospitalized?"

"Even if I have to stay, at least take me back to the city."

Huo Zongzhuo was unusually insistent. "Lie down and rest."

Saying this, he dragged a chair over, sat by the bed, and watched Jiang Luo.

Jiang Luo finally lay down, glanced at Huo Zongzhuo, and smiled. "You must've been really worried when I disappeared, Dad?"

Huo Zongzhuo really didn't know how Jiang Luo could still smile.

"Sleep."

Huo Zongzhuo knew Jiang Luo hadn't slept all night and must be exhausted.

Jiang Luo looked at him. "If I sleep, won't you? Going to watch over me, Dad?"

Huo Zongzhuo ordered sternly, "Close your mouth, close your eyes, and sleep."

Jiang Luo smiled again but said nothing more, closing his eyes and mouth to rest.

Huo Zongzhuo watched Jiang Luo, keeping vigil, his gaze never leaving him.

When Jiang Luo’s breathing evened out and he fell asleep, Huo Zongzhuo’s expression turned grim, a storm gathering in his eyes.

It was worth noting that Huo Zongzhuo was a full eleven years older than Jiang Luo; they were from completely different generations.

In Jiang Luo’s mind, no matter what happened, to avoid trouble, Guo Ronghai absolutely couldn't die.

But Huo Zongzhuo saw things completely differently.

After weighing the location, timing, and how many people knew about the incident, Huo Zongzhuo coldly thought to himself that the man who kidnapped Jiang Luo could not be allowed to live.

Leaving aside whether he could survive being stabbed by Jiang Luo, bleeding, alone in the fields in the dead of night was already doubtful.

Moreover, Huo Zongzhuo couldn't tolerate what he did to Jiang Luo.

Sitting by the bed, motionless as he watched Jiang Luo, the mere thought of the harm and threats Jiang Luo might have endured during the night of his disappearance made it impossible for Huo Zongzhuo to approach the aftermath calmly.

Besides, in these times, it was common enough for someone to go missing and not be found for months or even years.

On his way to pick up Jiang Luo from the countryside, Huo Zongzhuo had already set everything in motion.

Deep in the fields, miles from the nearest village, a small dirt-floor shack. The door pushed open, and four men entered one after another, their eyes immediately falling on Guo Ronghai on the ground.

Guo Ronghai lay still, in an expanding pool of blood, his head surrounded by it. Splintered pieces of the wooden stool were scattered around him, and the room showed obvious signs of struggle.

The four men exchanged looks. One stepped forward and felt for Guo Ronghai’s pulse.

"Well?" another man asked.

"He's still hanging on."

The man who had just asked, "Well?" raised his hand in a signal. Without hesitation, the other three moved to lift Guo Ronghai, one of them shaking out a sack they had brought along.

Soon, the bloodstained sack was placed in the trunk of a car.

As the car shook, the sack swayed along with it.

The car drove with its lights on along the pitch-black rural road.

As dawn broke, a ferry took on a black car.

The ferry was empty except for the car—no other vehicles, no other people.

One after another, four men got out of the car. Some lit cigarettes, others rolled their shoulders and shook out their legs. They looked no different from ordinary people waiting to cross the river on a ferry.

When the ferry reached the middle of the river, something plunged into the water with a splash—completely unnoticed by anyone.

The ferry continued toward the opposite bank. The river’s murky waters surged, capable of concealing anything…

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Author’s Note:

1. Zhou Huajian, "Flower Heart" (Huā Xīn), released in 1993; 2. "Red Sun" (Hóng Rì), Cantonese original version released in 1992.