Chapter 992: Grief Does Not Communicate

“Oh my, let me tell you, I wasn’t scared one bit. I thought to myself—Bao just got out of the hospital, and Miss Wang is a delicate girl; I couldn’t let them lay a hand on her. So I decided to take them straight to Boss Wang’s private room and let him deal with them.”

You all know Boss Wang—his famous battle was on Huanghe Road. Unbelievable—he took on over a dozen guys at once. Taking down a few petty hooligans? Child’s play for him.”

“When we got to the private room and told Boss Wang what happened, he immediately said: ‘Tell that ringleader, Yangpu Xiao Liu, to bend over and give me his ass—I’ll kick it right back. Then we’re even.’”

Tao Tao, holding a glass of wine in Night Tokyo, swayed and gesticulated wildly as he recounted how brilliant he’d been at Zhenzhen Garden last night—of course, he didn’t forget to praise Boss Wang.”

“So the little Northeastern guy punched one guy and knocked out all his teeth?”

“Oh my, Boss Wang trained in martial arts—he’s got serious strength. I’m not exaggerating—he swung the guy around like a top. Just watching it made me wince.”

Just then, the shop bell rang. Lingzi looked up and said, “Boss Wang’s here! I was just about to call you. You came right on time. Tao Tao’s been telling us all about your heroic deeds last night.”

“Fighting two petty hooligans? What’s heroic about that?” Wang Yan gave Tao Tao a light side-kick to the butt as he chuckled. “You’re boasting now? Let me tell you—I kicked that guy so hard he couldn’t get up. He’d kicked Tao Tao in the ass from outside the room and sent him flying in. I told him to hit back—he just lightly slapped the guy’s face and called it done.”

“Oh my, Boss Wang, you shouldn’t say it like that.”

Tao Tao waved his hands in protest. “You don’t understand—Xiao Liu did kick me, but he didn’t use any force. Just planted his foot on my butt and gave it a little push. Boss Wang kicked him right in the stomach—he rolled his eyes back and lay there gasping for minutes before he could move again.”

“He slapped my face and kicked me. Boss Wang kicked him back. Then I slapped his face again. Now we’re even.”

Linghong looked disgusted. “I remember when Baozong got hit, you said if you found the guy, you’d beat him senseless. Now that Xiao Liu’s been kicked down by Boss Wang, you won’t even lift a finger.”

“I told Boss Wang—it wouldn’t be honorable to hit him now.”

Ge Laoshi chimed in: “Then why didn’t you fight him yourself back then? Why bring him to the Northeastern guy? If he hadn’t trained, wouldn’t you have gotten him killed?”

“See? Everyone says you’re heartless, but here you are worrying. Lingzi raised an eyebrow at Wang Yan, then turned to Ge Laoshi. “Boss Wang can’t fight—he just sits there and no one dares touch him. He makes one call, and in less than ten minutes, dozens or even hundreds of men storm into Zhenzhen Garden.”

“You’re exaggerating—I’m a gang boss now?”

“Oh my, what else do you think? Half your logistics crew are ex-soldiers. I hear every day in Night Tokyo about your guys fighting on the streets. One call from you, and dozens or hundreds show up—easy.”

“I’m helping veterans find jobs—it’s a good thing. You make it sound like I’m running a criminal syndicate.”

Wang Yan shook his head, amused. “Don’t listen to them. We did fight a lot in the past, and some got hurt. But lately, with our reputation growing, as long as it’s not some remote backwater, our shipments travel safely. We don’t want to fight—it’s the highway bandits trying to rob our cargo to get rich.”

How much profit do I make per shipment? If they steal one truckload, how much do I lose? It’s frustrating. But we live in a rule-of-law society; once law enforcement improves and public awareness grows, this will all calm down. Enough of this—let’s eat.

Lingzi laughed. “Tao Tao says Zhenzhen Garden’s food is better than Night Tokyo’s, and Boss Wang’s wife is prettier than me. So why are you still eating here? I’m truly flattered.”

“I go here a few days, there a few days. You’re not bad either—it’s just different styles. I’ve got to spread the love evenly.”

“Oh my… men…” Lingzi shook her head, walked over, and patted Wang Yan’s shoulder. “You’re so fickle—totally unreliable.”

“What do you mean ‘unreliable’?”

“Money, of course.”

“So Night Tokyo loses money every day?” Linghong spoke bluntly.

“Oh my, do you think you eat and drink here for free?” Lingzi rolled her eyes and changed the subject, pulling out a deck of cards. “You guys play cards first. Baozong and Fanzong are closing a deal tonight—they’ll come back here to eat. Let’s make it lively.”

“How long will we wait? I can’t stay up too late,” Ge Laoshi asked lazily.

“No later than 7:30. If they don’t show, we won’t wait.” With that, Lingzi waved and went to attend other guests.

“I get it now—she doesn’t want to admit Night Tokyo’s losing money. Every time we bring it up, she shifts to how much we eat and drink.”

Ge Laoshi nodded vigorously. “Exactly. I’m an old man—how much can I possibly eat?”

Tao Tao said: “Oh my, they’re both willing—the one wants to hit, the other wants to be hit. Why are we worrying? You two are just bored. As long as there’s food and drink, that’s enough. Why overthink? I don’t get how Bao’s doing it—he’s thirty-five, Lingzi’s thirty-eight—oh my, an old man and an old woman. Having kids will be a struggle.”

“Oh? Want kids already? Then go home and find Fangmei. Stop flirting with Xiao Asha.”

Ge Laoshi added smoothly: “You’re not trying to have kids with Xiao Asha, are you?”

“Why are you dragging me into this?” Tao Tao jumped up. “What flirting? We just play mahjong and chat!”

The three began bickering again. Wang Yan shook his head, lit a Huazhi cigarette, picked up a newspaper, and went off to read alone.

Baozong and Miss Wang arrived at Night Tokyo before seven, beaming—clearly, the deal went well.

Tao Tao rushed over. “Closed the deal?”

Baozong smiled. “What do you think?”

“Oh my, I thought that Wei boss was so powerful—turns out he couldn’t even land Fanzong?”

Miss Wang laughed. “Baozong and Fanzong signed two orders—eighty thousand pieces each. That Wei boss couldn’t handle it. Oh my, you should’ve seen his face! He was all smug, sure he’d sealed the deal—then he ordered eighty-eight ‘Beggar’s Chicken’ dishes, one for every table at Zhenzhen Garden. Turns out, neither side had ever confirmed the exact number of garments. When they found out, he just froze.”

She laughed loudly, glanced around, and locked eyes with Wang Yan, who sat there grinning. He gave her a slight nod. She shot him a glare and turned away.

Spotting Miss Wang’s gaze, Baozong smiled. “Boss Wang sees things clearly. Didn’t he tell you yesterday? So you need to be more composed, think things through.”

“Miss Wang’s sharp enough—she just doesn’t want to exert herself,” Wang Yan said with a smile.

“I thought you were complimenting me,” Miss Wang rolled her eyes.

Lingzi came over, wrapping an arm around Miss Wang. “You’re about to become a section chief—how else could you get the job without a sharp mind?”

“Did Baozong tell you?” Miss Wang looked pleased but tried to hide it, waving her hand. “It’s too early, way too early. But if I do become section chief, I’ll treat everyone to dinner.”

Everyone sat down to eat, laughing and joking. Despite the side-eyes and grudges, Miss Wang still took a seat beside Wang Yan.

“Why didn’t Boss Wang go to Zhenzhen Garden today?”

“Lingzi asked me the same thing. I told her I spread the love evenly—these are old friends. I can’t neglect them, or this old guy’ll accuse me of being heartless and drag out every favor I ever did for him, recounting it all from start to finish.”

Ge Laoshi grumbled. “Aren’t I just stating facts? You’d still be living in my little room, grilling lamb skewers every day if not for your sudden rise.”

“Three years have passed. Even without a family recipe, couldn’t I afford to open a restaurant by now?”

Baozong nodded. “That’s true. I’ve always thought it’s a loss to the culinary world that Boss Wang doesn’t become a chef.”

They ate and drank, laughing and chatting. Midway, Lingzi pulled Linghong into her shop, retrieved the “Japanese premium” pearl earrings Linghong had rejected—worth 2,600 yuan in her words, but actually costing just over 200—and took Baozong aside, pricing them at 26,000 yuan, then handed them to him to give to Miss Wang.

Wang Yan watched their comings and goings, but pretended not to notice. Honestly, Miss Wang would never make a good official—her personality was too impulsive, too reckless, lacking restraint. Even if she got the position of section chief in the clothing department, she’d likely be shuffled into a dead-end post within months.

Even if Wang Yan intervened, it wouldn’t matter. The nature of Unit 27 was different—real power lay in the hands of section chiefs. In most offices, a minor section chief wouldn’t matter. But now, with reform and economic development, connections were acceptable—but useless connections? Absolutely not. If she messed up, everyone above and below would suffer.

Besides—if Miss Wang had no crisis, how could Old Wang offer warmth?

Though Miss Wang clearly had no feelings for Baozong, and she probably didn’t treasure his gifts, on the other hand, her flaws weren’t limited to this one thing—there were always others to find. Mei Ping would still report her. So overall, details might shift, but the outcome would likely remain unchanged…

The party ended. Miss Wang picked up her purse and announced her departure.

“No need to see me off—I’ll just take a taxi.”

Baozong stood anyway. “I’m heading out too. I’ll walk you.”

Wang Yan smiled and waved at Miss Wang. She huffed, turned her head, and walked off haughtily.

In the back of the taxi, Baozong turned and asked with a smile: “You and Boss Wang had a fight?”

“No.”

“But you two used to be close. People on Huanghe Road said you dumped me and got together with Boss Wang.”

“Didn’t you say yourself not to believe gossip on Huanghe Road?” Miss Wang snapped, then asked, “You’re thirty-five, made good money—why aren’t you in a hurry to get married?”

“Why rush? Being single’s great—free and easy. Look at Tao Tao—he doesn’t even want to go home to Fangmei.” Baozong spoke lightly. “You, though—you really should think about it.”

Miss Wang didn’t take the bait. “What about Lingzi? She’s thirty-eight.”

Baozong paused briefly, then smiled. “She’s got her own plans. We’re just business partners running the restaurant. Don’t read too much into it.”

Watching Baozong’s expression, Miss Wang crossed her arms, turned away, and stared out the window.

Baozong stared out too—he was grieving.

After a long silence, Baozong pulled a box from his pocket. “Here. For you. Cheer up.”

“What? I don’t want it. You know I have to turn in gifts. Before, when you gave me things I liked, I had to buy them back—I was nearly broke.”

“How expensive could Linghong’s stuff be? You helped me with Fanzong’s deal—this is just a token. Lingzi picked them out—I don’t understand these things. She said girls need to look pretty. Keep them for a few days—if you like them, keep them; if not, hand them in. No big deal.”

Miss Wang opened the box, saw the pearl earrings, hesitated, then nodded. “Fine, I’ll take them. But Baozong, don’t give me gifts anymore. We’re friends—you’re fine, I’m fine. It’s unnecessary.”

“I’ll learn from Boss Wang—I’ll send you and the clothing department a banner.”

“Don’t even joke. It’s all his fault—my master’s office is full of banners. Other sections copied it—every deal, every boss sends a banner. Oh my~” Miss Wang looked disgusted.

Baozong laughed. “You know what Uncle said?”

“What?”

“Uncle said Boss Wang truly understands human nature. If he entered government, he’d rise to the top.”

Miss Wang snorted. “He gives gifts so clearly—he’ll take them just as clearly. If he ever becomes an official, he’ll end up in prison.”

She laughed, imagining Wang Yan in chains.

Baozong laughed too, but his smile was half-hearted—he and Miss Wang had drifted apart. He thought of Xue Zhi again, and sadness returned…

He didn’t know that the Xue Zhi he longed for had become Betty in Hong Kong. Nor did he know Betty, drenched in sweat, weak and flushed, lay in Wang Yan’s arms.

“Huh?”

Wang Yan, smoking, heard Betty’s voice. “What is it?”

Betty fell silent, then said: “I want a child. You’re thirty-three, I’m thirty-four—we’re running out of time. You’re too big-hearted to care for me. A child would give me something to hold onto.”

“So business isn’t fun anymore?”

“It’s fine. I used to dream of rising above everyone. Now that I’m used to it, it feels meaningless. In 1990, I did everything myself. Now I just give orders, manage people, judge who’s capable, calculate income and expenses—it’s tiring.”

“You once said to enjoy life. Now I have free time, I picked up old hobbies—but they feel empty too. I’ve realized I have everything… except a child.”

Wang Yan nodded, crushed out his cigarette. “Then let’s have one.”

…

This was in the Western-style house on Julu Road. Betty had returned to Shanghai after a long absence. Two reasons: to see family, and of course, business expansion.

In recent months, the cooling tea drink had expanded northward with good results. Other tea-flavored beverages and sodas had been developed and distributed through existing channels. Simultaneously, markets in Japan, Korea, and Southeast Asia had been entered.

Betty came to Shanghai now because business had reached here—but she didn’t plan to manage operations locally. She just wanted to see family. Perhaps her real motive was a sudden urge to come to Wang Yan and make a baby.

Next, Betty would go to Beijing and Mount Zhangbai—developing Beijing’s market and securing a water source.

The mineral water business was already decided. Betty had sent people to scout water sources across China; now she was going to Mount Zhangbai to negotiate. If possible, buy it, build a factory, and start selling mineral water. Meanwhile, promote cooling tea in Northeast China—multiple fronts, rapid nationwide domination.

As for Daozi, having received Wang Yan’s teachings, his Hong Kong logistics company thrived. Cao Cao Logistics had taken a stake. Currently, their shipping operations were limited to Southeast Asia—small volume, slowly growing. They carried cargo, then bought grain and raw materials needed domestically on the return trip—no empty ships. It was international trade, albeit a side business.

Daozi was diligent and thriving. He got a share of the cooling tea profits. He didn’t dare claim any stake in the other drinks or mineral water. Now he had a logistics company with over a thousand employees, made money, kept loyal men, and was fully legal—truly cleaned up. With money and men, he was shining. Once he relied on big triad bosses for meals; now he was the real “Dao Ge” in Hong Kong’s underworld—respected.

Overall, Betty’s ventures were going well. It couldn’t be otherwise—would Wang Yan have spent all these years for nothing?

Betty stayed in Shanghai for five days, spending one day with her parents and four days with him. During the day, Wang Yan took her out for walks and sightseeing; at night, he naturally filled her to the brim.

Only after these five days did Betty leave Shanghai for Beijing.

Betty departed with deep uncertainty, planning to pass through Shanghai again on her return, for she didn’t know whether Wang Mou had a switch…

“Is Brother Wang here? Want a can of Qingxin Cool Tea? It’s from Shenzhen, I hear it’s quite famous.” Jing Xiu still leaned out the window, a Huazǐ cigarette dangling from his lips, placing a can of cool tea on the small table by the window.

Wang Yan, dressed in the same championship gear as Hongyun, leaned against the small pavilion, one leg bent casually as he stood, a Huazǐ cigarette between his teeth. He raised an eyebrow at the can of cool tea: “This cool tea made it to Huanghe Road?”

“A salesman came by two days ago. Retail price is 1.5 yuan per can, wholesale is 1.3 yuan. Since I’m on Huanghe Road, I sell it for 2 yuan.” Jing Xiu nodded. “The restaurants charge more—they sell it for 3 yuan. If you’re talking about being shady, they’re the real shady ones.”

He popped open the pull-tab, declined the straw Jing Xiu offered, took a sip, and nodded: “Not bad.”

“This cool tea’s something else. The salesman gave me a whole list of instructions and left a note—what condition to drink which tea, said if you get it wrong you’ll be running to the toilet for two days. The one you’re drinking is for daily appetite stimulation; most people can handle it. Best in summer—it helps you eat more when it’s hot.”

Jing Xiu explained, then asked, “Brother Wang, are you going to Zhizhen Garden?”

“Why mention Zhizhen Garden?”

“The boss lady, Li Li, is beautiful, and the place just opened—right in the spotlight. Two days ago, Boss Bao came by, entered through the back door. Boss Bao’s something else—even entering a restaurant has its own rules. He ordered a dry-fried beef hor fun, ate it fresh right out of the kitchen, and told Boss Lady Li Li that Zhizhen Garden wouldn’t last three months. Before entering, Boss Bao even asked me: if Zhizhen Garden closes, who’d be happiest? I said everyone would be happy.”

Of course, if Brother Wang steps in, Zhizhen Garden won’t close. On this street, the one who causes the most trouble is Lu Meilin from Jin Meilin’s crew—and Brother Wang is the best at handling her.”

Sounds like I specifically bully people.

Jing Xiu laughed heartily: “But Boss Bao’s words did have an effect. These past few days, Zhizhen Garden’s been packed—everyone comes in ordering dry-fried beef hor fun. Boss Bao’s a master of hype. Who’d have thought eating dry-fried beef hor fun at Zhizhen Garden could become such a trend? Truly impressive. But I still think Boss Bao falls far short of Brother Wang. Brother Wang makes big money quietly.”

“Boss Bao used to trade stocks—hype is mandatory training. Now he’s focused on foreign trade; he needs the business to come to him, not the other way around. It’s inevitable. If you’re talking about hype, you, the Huanghe Road gossip, are the real expert.”

“I just sell cigarettes. I’m nowhere near as capable as Boss Bao. Brother Wang overestimates me.”

Wang Yan smiled, extinguished his cigarette, drained the can of cool tea, placed it on the small table, and waved to Jing Xiu: “I’m off.”

“Take care, Brother Wang.”

Jing Xiu always waved back with that same boundless enthusiasm…