Chapter 68 Festival Time

Chapter 68: Lunar New Year Holiday

As the New Year approached, both the factory and the company had finally closed for the holiday.

At the company, Accountant Xue wrapped things up. He checked every corner of the office, mopped the floors, arranged the dress forms neatly against the wall in Jiang Luo's office, turned off the lights, cut the power, and locked up before leaving.

The factory followed a similar procedure. Zhang Ningfu, along with his nephew Xiao Lu, checked every workshop inside and out, turned off the electricity and water, locked the doors, and left the security guard and two dogs to watch the gate.

The commercial building couldn’t be completely closed—it would remain open until the day before New Year’s Eve, so some staff were left on duty, all of whom were local to Haicheng. The out-of-town saleswomen, including Mo Wanzhen, were all given leave together.

The saleswomen staying on duty didn’t feel resentful, as they received overtime pay and an additional subsidy from the company, which amounted to quite a bit.

And so, everyone was on holiday. Zhang Ningfu went to the city to see his wife and son, Accountant Xue returned to his home where he lived alone, Mo Wanzhen boarded a bus back to her hometown in a county in northern Jiangsu, and Wang Chuang, no longer busy, returned to the tube-shaped apartment building of the silk factory.

Zhang Ningfu arrived in the city by car. Just as he got out and was about to fetch things from the trunk, his son and daughter-in-law came out of the building, smiling as they greeted him, "Dad."

His son went to take the luggage and other items from him, saying, "Let me handle it, Dad."

His daughter-in-law urged him, "Dad, come upstairs. Nannan has been waiting for you for a long time."

"Alright, alright."

Zhang Ningfu smiled.

Upstairs, the door opened, and he entered a warm and cozy, though small, home, now filled with toys scattered across the floor.

As soon as Zhang Ningfu stepped inside, a little girl holding a doll came running out, calling, "Grandpa!"

"Yes!"

Zhang Ningfu bent down, his rough hand patting the girl’s head. "Nannan, you’ve grown so tall."

"Come in quickly, old man."

Zhang Ningfu’s wife, wearing an apron, came out of the kitchen.

Behind Zhang Ningfu were his son and daughter-in-law, carrying the luggage and other items.

It was the New Year, and the family was reunited. Zhang Ningfu was very happy.

At a bus station in a county in northern Jiangsu, Mo Wanzhen stepped out of the exit, pulling a suitcase and carrying a large backpack. A boy who bore some resemblance to her waved from a short distance away, then ran over, calling, "Sis."

Mo Wanzhen looked at her brother, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Her brother smiled. "I’ve been waiting for you for a while."

He took the suitcase from Mo Wanzhen and reached for the large backpack on her shoulder. "Give it to me, let me take it."

He added, "Mom and Dad sent me. They said you were coming back today and told me to come early to wait for you."

"Let’s go. My bike is outside. I’ll take you home."

"Mom and Dad have been talking about you since last night."

Mo Wanzhen smiled, handing over her luggage to her brother while sizing him up. "Have you grown taller again?"

Chatting and laughing, the two walked out of the station together.

In an old building in Jing’an, Accountant Xue sat by the sofa, holding a phone to his ear as he spoke to his son on the other end. "I know, I know. You’re busy, you can’t come back."

"Don’t worry about me. Focus on your work."

"What could possibly happen to me alone?"

"If you don’t come back, am I not going to live my life?"

Meanwhile, Wang Chuang took Bai Ting and Wang Junwei to a residential compound for employees of a government institution.

The compound was quiet, with few buildings, none taller than four stories—an old housing allocation for leaders of a certain unit.

The unit Wang Chuang took them to had once belonged to a leader who had since retired. The couple had moved to Hainan to settle down for their retirement and were planning to sell this apartment in Haicheng since they no longer lived there.

Though the apartment had only two bedrooms and a living room—not particularly large—it was well-decorated, fully furnished, and kept clean and bright.

It also had a spacious living and dining area, along with a large balcony, clean and convenient for drying clothes.

Bai Ting and Wang Junwei looked around the apartment carefully, quite taken with it. They felt it was nice—certainly better than the tube-shaped apartment building at the silk factory.

"So, what do you think?" Wang Chuang asked them.

"Quite nice, quite nice," Bai Ting said as she wandered around the living room. She liked the leather sofa, which looked upscale, and the wooden feature wall behind the TV, which she found tasteful and classic, matching her aesthetic.

"Shall we buy this one, then?" Wang Chuang sought their opinion.

"Just like that? We’re buying it?" Bai Ting and Wang Junwei were still looking around.

They never expected that, just before the New Year, their son would want to buy them a house.

In a hotel room, Zhao Mingshi clung to his girlfriend in bed, his hands wandering restlessly.

He wasn’t wearing any clothes, just underwear, rubbing his bare legs against her.

His girlfriend tried to reason with him. "I really have to go. I can’t just not go home for the New Year, can I?"

Zhao Mingshi ignored her, clinging to her. "New Year’s Eve hasn’t even arrived yet. There’s still a day to go."

"Don’t leave today. Stay with me a little longer."

"Baby, I love you."

In the kitchen of the west unit of the tube-shaped apartment, the door was closed. Zhang Xiangping was frying egg wrappers for dumplings on a coal stove, while Jiang Jianmin sat alone at the dining table playing cards.

Zhang Xiangping muttered, "Who knows what time Zhao Mingshi will come tomorrow."

Jiang Jianmin, a cigarette dangling from his lips, said, "He said he’s coming, so he’ll come."

He added, "How much did you put in his red envelope?"

Zhang Xiangping replied, "Five hundred."

Jiang Jianmin immediately glared. "Are you crazy? He’s just a student. Does his New Year’s red envelope need to be that big?"

Zhang Xiangping glanced at him: "So how much are you thinking? One hundred? Two hundred? If it's less than what the Zhao family gives, would that even be acceptable?"

Jiang Jianmin retorted: "I'm his own father, why should I feel embarrassed? A son doesn’t think his mother’s ugly, a dog doesn’t dislike its home for being poor. Would he really complain that I gave too little?"

"He wouldn’t dare!"

"I’d break his legs!"

In the old house in Suzhou, on the day before New Year’s Eve, his mother had originally wanted Huo Zongzhuo to take Jiang Luo around Pingjiang Road and the nearby areas to hang out and explore, worried that he might find staying at home boring and uninteresting.

However, Jiang Luo noticed there was a mahjong set at home and immediately pulled Aunt Zhao to join them. The four of them sat around a table, playing mahjong while snacking on sunflower seeds and chatting, enjoying themselves for the entire day.

At one point during the game, Jiang Luo randomly asked Huo Zongzhuo: "Do you think the government usually provides any support to different districts or towns?"

Huo Zongzhuo, looking at the tiles in front of him, asked in return: "What kind of support are you talking about?"

Jiang Luo: "Financial support, money-related."

Huo Zongzhuo thought for a moment: "Policy-based support is possible, like if you open a factory, the local government might cut your taxes."

"Money-wise?"

"What do you mean?"

Jiang Luo glanced at him: "Cash handouts, giving money directly."

Huo Zongzhuo shook his head: "Pretty unlikely."

"Government funds are earmarked for specific uses. If they give you money, wouldn’t they have to give money to others who come too?"

Jiang Luo thought about it: "I also think it’s unlikely."

Huo Zongzhuo: "Why are you asking this?"

"Just wondering."

Jiang Luo snickered, curling his lips into a smile and joking: "If I could count on the Haicheng city government to give me money, I could just kick back and enjoy life, be set for life."

That evening, back in the small courtyard where they were staying, Jiang Luo ate the peanuts fried by Aunt Zhao that Huo Zongzhuo had given him, musing to himself: So it’s true, the government giving money is pretty much impossible.

So how did Juxiang Township give him money back then?

Did that person behind the scenes, the one silently helping him, really exist?

On New Year’s Eve, after Aunt Zhao prepared the dishes, she left to celebrate the New Year with her family.

At noon, Huo Zongzhuo simply whipped up a few hot dishes, including a local Suzhou specialty—squirrel mandarin fish.

Jiang Luo ambled into the kitchen while cracking sunflower seeds and, seeing Huo Zongzhuo standing at the stove cooking, said in surprise: "You actually know how to cook?"

Huo Zongzhuo turned to look at him: "Cut back on the seeds, or you won’t have an appetite for the meal later."

Jiang Luo ignored his remark and nodded to himself, saying: "That’s good, you'll be cooking for your wife and daughter in the future."

Huo Zongzhuo glanced at him: "What wife and daughter?"

Jiang Luo: "Well, obviously, you’ll have to get married eventually."

Huo Zongzhuo turned his gaze back to the wok, stir-frying the dishes without any change in tone, and said: "Not getting married."

Jiang Luo blurted out: "What, you can’t?"

Huo Zongzhuo immediately turned to look at him, then raised the spatula in his hand, pretending to go after him.

Jiang Luo laughed heartily and quickly turned away.

Huo Zongzhuo lifted his foot but didn’t kick Jiang Luo—he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Little brat.

In the afternoon, his mother didn’t take a nap. After the meal, she sat under the eaves by the door, rolling yarn into a ball. Jiang Luo sat beside her, holding the yarn for her.

As she wound the yarn, his mother said: "This was Zongzhuo’s sweater from when he was twenty."

"I recently found it and thought about knitting him a new one. Since you’re here, I can get your measurements and knit one for you."

"I’ll work on it slowly, aiming to finish before next winter so you can wear it then."

"Sounds good."

Jiang Luo smiled: "I’ll definitely wear it. Every winter from now on, I’ll wear it."

Jiang Luo had never experienced much maternal love and was unfamiliar with such affection.

Before, he only knew the secondhand motherly love from Wang Chuang’s family, where Bai Ting would give him chicken legs.

Now, Huo Zongzhuo’s mother was knitting him a sweater.

Jiang Luo felt warmth in his heart, thinking that secondhand motherly love wasn’t so bad. His calls of "Mom" hadn’t been in vain.

Inside the house, Huo Zongzhuo had pulled out a camera from somewhere.

He held the camera and snapped several pictures of Jiang Luo and his mother at the door.

Later, when Jiang Luo was no longer holding the yarn, he sat by the door petting the cat. Huo Zongzhuo took more photos of Jiang Luo and the little white cat.

Jiang Luo turned toward the camera, stroking the cat as he said: "Is this cat’s personality always like this? Letting anyone hold and pet it? Aren’t cats usually quite fierce?"

"Is this cat the village idiot of cats?"

Huo Zongzhuo snapped a few more pictures with the camera, then came over, crouched down, and stroked the white cat on Jiang Luo’s lap. The cat closed its eyes, lifted its head, and allowed itself to be petted, purring up a storm.

Huo Zongzhuo said: "Is letting people pet it a sign of being mentally challenged?"

As he spoke, he raised his hand and patted Jiang Luo’s head.

Jiang Luo immediately glared: "Hey, too far!"

Huo Zongzhuo laughed and raised the camera to take a photo of Jiang Luo.

Later in the afternoon, several guests arrived one after another. They were all relatives and friends of Huo Zongzhuo’s family in Suzhou, bringing over New Year’s gifts—all sorts of things, including chicken, duck, fish, and even cat treats.

When some of them saw Jiang Luo, they grew curious. Huo Zongzhuo introduced him as a friend who had come to Suzhou to visit. His mother corrected him: "He’s my younger son."

Jiang Luo immediately chimed in with "Mom!"

Everyone laughed.

After a few groups of relatives had left, Jiang Luo asked Huo Zongzhuo: "They’re all relatives—aren’t you all spending New Year’s together?"

Huo Zongzhuo explained, "My dad isn't from Suzhou, so none of our relatives are here. My mom is an only child, and my grandmother was also an only child, so we don't have many relatives. We usually keep in touch, but we don’t spend New Year’s together."

Jiang Luo nodded in understanding.

Soon after, another relative arrived, bringing New Year gifts. After chatting briefly with Huo Zongzhuo's mother, the female relative turned to Jiang Luo with delight and said, "This young man is so full of energy! And really good-looking!"

"How old are you? Are you working?"

Hearing that he was employed, the woman immediately added, "Do you have a girlfriend? I know a few lovely young women—I could introduce you!"

What?

Jiang Luo was stunned.

Where did this topic even come from?

Huo Zongzhuo's mother quickly cut in, using the local dialect to tell the woman to stop.

Huo Zongzhuo also said to her, "He's still too young for that."

After the woman left, Jiang Luo thought of something and laughed. Without hesitation, he declared, "Our President Huo is so rich, such a big boss—of course I’ll marry him someday. Why bother asking?"

He leaned closer to Huo Zongzhuo's mother and added, "Right, Mom?"

His mother knew Jiang Luo was just being playful and smiled to herself, amused.

Huo Zongzhuo gazed at Jiang Luo with tender eyes, his expression a blend of helplessness and fond indulgence.