Chapter 139: Nian Gang Foundation.
After dinner, Jiang Cai was roped into doing the dishes by Huo Niangsheng.
She was scrubbing away at the pots and pans in the sink with a huff when Chen Wengang, having finished feeding the dog, walked in. He blinked, surprised, and asked, “Why aren’t you using the dishwasher?”
She froze as well—Jiang Cai shot an indignant glare toward the living room. “He didn’t tell me! He definitely did that on purpose!”
Chen Wengang chuckled. “I’ll do it.”
But Jiang Cai, unwilling to outsource the task entirely after already complaining about it, went back to figuring out how the dishwasher worked.
Chen Wengang sliced some fruit and arranged it in a few glass bowls. When Jiang Cai returned to the living room, she saw him carrying one of the bowls into the inner room—she caught a glimpse of Huo Niangsheng leaning comfortably on a lounge chair, acting like the lord of the manor. Chen Wengang was leaning in very close, their foreheads almost touching, speaking to him in a low, affectionate, and smiling voice. He picked up a piece of white peach with a fork and fed it to Huo Niangsheng.
Jiang Cai clicked her tongue, made a face that went unnoticed, and turned back to claim the bowl of watermelon for herself.
As she ate, she examined the photo wall—it was just like any ordinary family’s, filled with the little moments of everyday life. There were photos of Chen Wengang in his cap and gown at graduation, a picture of them standing in front of a waterfall taken by a stranger, a commemorative photo from their wedding in Las Vegas, and even a candid shot of Huo Niangsheng lying on the bed, looking inadvertently at the lens—a close-up from his forehead to his neck, an angle no one else could have captured.
Someone approached from behind, and before they could speak, Jiang Cai exclaimed, “I’m being very careful! I won’t drop the watermelon on the floor!”
Chen Wengang’s voice said, “It’s fine, I can just mop it up.”
She turned around and realized it wasn’t Huo Niangsheng. Chen Wengang walked over, looking up slightly as they stood together to look at the wall.
Halley, full and satisfied, ran into the room, proud of itself, stepping all over its master’s feet. Jiang Cai moved her gaze to the photo at the very bottom, one in which she had a place of her own, occupying a little corner—
It was Chen Wengang’s undergraduate graduation. As an outstanding graduate, he was on stage giving a speech. Jiang Cai, having nothing better to do, had tagged along for the fun. She remembered the auditorium had a very high ceiling and a grand atmosphere; Huo Niangsheng was sitting in the audience, camera in hand, gazing at him with such tenderness. After the ceremony, they had wandered around campus; Chen Wengang was holding a bouquet, and many classmates dressed just like him came over to greet him. Yu Shanding, Lu Chenlong, Chen Xiangling, Zheng Baoqiu, and others had all come, and they all took a lively group photo in front of the artificial lake.
Jiang Cai asked, “What made you think of getting a PhD? Aren’t you sick of studying after all these years?”
Chen Wengang smiled and stroked the edge of the frame. “Not at all. I find it very interesting.”
Jiang Cai thought to herself: Of course you find being at school interesting.
She had seen it with her own eyes last time—she didn’t know how Chen Wengang did it, but he was a total celebrity on campus. He was recognized every time he walked down the street, and people behind his back would argue about whether the guy giving the speech today was the “campus crush” or the “department crush.” Who wouldn’t enjoy being the center of attention like that?
She sighed. “I couldn’t do it. My head hurts as soon as I look at a book; I just want to sleep.”
Chen Wengang wasn’t easily fooled. He glanced at her. “You still have to study hard. You said it yourself: ‘I don’t like foreign languages and I don’t want to go abroad.’ Well, you got your way, and you got into the school yourself—at the very least, you should learn a skill to fall back on, right?”
Jiang Cai covered her ears. “La la la, I can’t hear you!”
The two chatted and laughed for a while longer. Later that evening, she was going to take a taxi home. Chen Wengang didn’t insist on driving her, knowing she disliked being managed; it was the first day of summer break, so she was undoubtedly meeting up with classmates at some dance club to find some fun.
Halley was rolling around on the floor, but getting bored, it started chasing its own tail. Chen Wengang looked at his book, then at the dog, and finally couldn’t resist picking it up, heading into the bedroom to play with the dog with Huo Niangsheng.
Huo Niangsheng, who had been dozing, woke up and touched his hair. “Want to go somewhere fun?”
Chen Wengang sat on the arm of the lounge chair, teasing Halley with a tennis ball. “Just the two of us?”
Huo Niangsheng made a sound of agreement, and Halley froze immediately, as if listening in.
Chen Wengang decided immediately. “The dog is still young and can’t handle the travel. Let’s skip it.”
As soon as he finished, Huo Niangsheng stared at him, taking in everything from his forehead to his chin.
“Know what I’m going to say next?”
“What?” Chen Wengang asked with a smile.
Huo Niangsheng leaned close to his ear. “Spare the rod and spoil the child.”
As he spoke, his hand had already wandered dishonestly into Chen Wengang’s clothes.
Chen Wengang chuckled, pushed his face away, and made a show of throwing the ball far away. Halley excitedly lunged for it, but the ball was actually still in Chen Wengang’s hand. Chen Wengang tucked his hand behind his back. Huo Niangsheng understood, withdrew his hand, and secretly took the “evidence of the crime” and tucked it inside his own clothes.
After failing to find the ball for a long time, Halley looked back suspiciously, looking from one to the other.
Chen Wengang held out both hands to show it. “Nope, it’s not in my hand. Huh, where did your ball go?”
Halley stared at him for a moment, came over to sniff his hands, hesitated for a few seconds, finally believed him, and went back to sniffing around on the floor. Chen Wengang giggled, sliding from the armrest onto Huo Niangsheng’s lap, half his body draped over his chest, still craning his neck to look at Halley.
Huo Niangsheng, with a touch of half-awake laziness, wrapped an arm around Chen Wengang’s waist and yawned behind his hand.
Huo Niangsheng had been living a very leisurely life these past two months. Unlike Huo Zhenfei, who had a fierce competitive spirit for the family business and loved challenging himself with high-intensity work, Huo Niangsheng only applied himself when there was actual business to attend to. When there was nothing critical, his cousin couldn’t stop him from putting his whole heart into his home life.
Especially since Halley had been brought back, it was as if they really had raised a child. Chen Wengang’s enthusiasm for Halley only continued to rise, and Huo Niangsheng not only didn’t stop him but indulged him, even developing the vibe of a stay-at-home husband. Sometimes Huo Zhenfei couldn’t stand it and would make a snide remark, but his wife would advise him to look at it from another angle: at least it showed his cousin had a stable family life and was settling down, which was better than the old days of partying at nightclubs and getting his name in the papers. Just turn a blind eye, she’d say, and don’t worry about the rest.
Chen Wengang, however, had work to do throughout the summer.
He no longer worked at the Huo Foundation. As they had discussed, Huo Niangsheng had started a new charity foundation under his own private name—though this time, it wasn’t named after himself. He named it the “Niangang Foundation”. The office was located in a small Republican-era building in the old district, with a formal charter, and they had hired full-time staff to get the work moving.
It was a young foundation. Since its inception, it hadn’t used the media to create hype or launch massive publicity campaigns; it simply conducted projects silently, taking each step steadily. It had only started gaining recognition in the last two years, but the public perception was overwhelmingly positive.
Chen Wengang entered the red-brick building and went straight to the third floor, entering the Deputy Secretary-General’s office. He had worked here throughout his master’s degree; since it wasn’t a full-time position, he had started in a basic role and had only moved into this office last month. As for the origin of the foundation’s name, because he was too bashful to advertise it, he had never explicitly explained it.
To this day, most of his colleagues—unless they had specifically asked—didn’t know what connection the name had to him.
A colleague came over to inform him that there was a dinner party that evening; a government representative and the CEOs of several key partner enterprises would be attending. Chen Wengang said he understood.
Since last year, the foundation had partnered with the government’s Welfare Bureau to launch an employment and volunteer assistance program for the intellectually disabled. They funded special schools and partnered with social enterprises to bridge the gap, helping students from special education schools find suitable jobs.
The meeting went smoothly, and they finalized the details for signing employment contracts, but there was no avoiding the official jargon, networking, and social courtesies. Chen Wengang held his cup—filled with pear juice to fake champagne—and from his previous life to this one, he was no stranger to such scenes. Even for public welfare projects, one couldn’t avoid the troublesome yet necessary “emotional exchanges.” One couldn’t do things entirely based on personal preference; sometimes, one had to endure.
Unfortunately, this time he encountered a CEO who loved to put on airs and had sharp eyes; the man noticed he was drinking juice. He probably took him for a fresh-faced student who didn’t understand the social rules, or perhaps he was so used to being flattered in business that he felt disrespected. He used it as an excuse to tease him, egging him on as if Chen Wengang couldn’t get off the hook without drinking a glass.
Chen Wengang couldn’t be bothered to argue. He switched to champagne, drank a glass to play along, and then got up and escaped to the restroom.
He bent over to splash his face. Someone pushed the door open behind him but didn’t walk inside, standing for a moment before coming over to wash their hands.
Chen Wengang glanced into the mirror. The man was one of the corporate representatives attending tonight. He thought for a moment; his name was Pan Zhengyang. They had exchanged business cards earlier: Chairman of Dayang Industrial Group. Compared to the other bloated CEOs, Pan Zhengyang could be called young and promising—somewhere between thirty and forty, with a well-maintained physique and an eye for personal image, wearing a designer suit, polished shoes, and slicked-back hair.
At the table, Chen Wengang had noticed his Rolex several times. Now, standing face-to-face, it was hard to miss the Hermes belt at the man’s waist. He’d heard at the table that he was still single; people had joked about him being a “diamond bachelor.”
Chen Wengang nodded to him.
Afterward, Chen Wengang didn’t return to the private room. He went to the outdoor smoking area but didn’t smoke, just stood outside feeling the breeze.
A moment later, the door was pushed open again. It was that same Boss Pan, who had followed him out. He was there to actually smoke, pulled out a cigarette pack with foreign text, took a stick, put it in his mouth, and pulled out a flashy metal lighter.
He looked up at Chen Wengang and asked, “Mind?”
Chen Wengang gestured toward the “Smoking Area” sign and told him to go ahead.
Pan Zhengyang lit the flame, took a puff, and offered one to Chen Wengang, who declined. He smiled and asked, “Don’t smoke? Or just hiding from the drinking? You sure you don’t want one?”
Chen Wengang politely declined. “I’ve already quit.”
Pan Zhengyang looked him over and laughed. “I couldn’t tell. You’re full of surprises.”
Chen Wengang, acting every bit the student, gave an embarrassed smile. “It’s not really a surprise. I just didn’t know any better during puberty and smoked secretly behind my parents’ backs. Later, I realized it was pointless, so I stopped.”
Having said that, he didn’t wait for Pan Zhengyang to speak again; he turned and headed back inside.
