Trafford's Trading Club

Edward•Elgar, ‘Salut d’Amour’.

The gentle, moving sound of violin rang out and it came to the solo part of Fang Jiping. This was the last day for practicing and tomorrow would be the formal performance for the banquet.

Fang Ruchang was quite satisfied with Fang Jiping’s performance--- He was clearer than anyone about the great efforts that his son had been making in playing the violin for all these years.

After a piece of music, a soft clap was heard suddenly. Fang Ruchang looked at the direction of the sound, seeing a man of his age walking towards him with a smile on his face.

Fang Jiping put down the instruments at this moment, walking towards both of them. He nodded to Fang Ruchang then turned to the other man, speaking primly, "Uncle, you’re here too."

"Take it easy." This man smiled, "Mrs. Zhang also invited your grandfather. However, he’s now abroad and cannot come back, so he asked me to represent him to attend. I’ve read the playbill and knew you’ll be performing at the banquet, so I come here to visit and see your practice."

Fang Ruchang now asked, "Dad is still abroad? How is he recently?"

This man was called Wu Qiubin. He had a family history of running shipping business. Now, when he heard Fang Ruchang’s question, he answered fishily, "He’s OK, just some minor illnesses."

"He should have more rest." Fang Ruchang said with a smile, "Oh yeah, I’ve known an old traditional Chinese doctor. I want to introduce him to dad..."

"Leave it for now." Wu Qiubin answered randomly before grabbing Fang Jiping’s hand, smiling. "Come here, let’s have a chat, I’ve not seen you for around a year, how are you these days?"

There were not only Fang Jiping and Fang Ruchang in the band, but when they saw such a scene... other members wouldn’t say anything. They even pretended deliberately that they didn’t see this.

Conductor Fang was born into a poor family. He seemed to fallen in love with the daughter of Wu’s Family when he was young. Of course he was forbidden to marry her; so, the young conductor eloped with the honorific lady. But it was heard that the lady died of illness not many years later, leaving Fang Ruchang and Fang Jiping forever.

Perhaps it was due to shame that the Wu Family admitted Fang Ruchang... Surely, any clever person could see that the one they really received was the posthumous child of the deceased lady of the Wu’s.

After that, with the secret support of Wu’s Family, Fang Ruchang gained a number of chances, and now he could be identified as a famous conductor.

In other words, it was an example that a father became famous due to his son.

At a side, Wu Qiubin patted Fang Jiping’s hand, saying softly, "How is your life recently?"

Fang Jiping took a side glance at Fang Ruchang and look back at Wu Qiubin, still staying cautious, "Everything is good."

Wu Qiubin said suddenly, "Don’t care about your father, you are the son of Wu’s Family. I heard that you’re going to attend a competition abroad?"

"Yeah, I’m preparing for it now," Fang Jiping said softly.

"Your grandpa’s bark is worse than his bite." Wu Qiubin added kindly, "Work hard in the competition and get a good rank. It’ll shut many people’s mouths. Don’t worry, you are the only son of my sister, I won’t make you suffer."

Fang Jiping suddenly didn’t dare to look at Wu Qiubin’s eyes, he merely pretended to nod, "I got it."

Wu Qiubin smiled and looked at Fang Jiping’s eyes, saying amiably, "Your eyes are quite similar to your mom."

While Fang Jiping could not but smiled bitterly and thought, ‘This may be the reason why his father, Fang Ruchang, was willing to buy him.’

...

...

When they were on their way home in the evening, Fang Ruchang asked suddenly, "What did your uncle talk to you?"

Fang Jiping didn’t turn to him, holding the steering wheel carefully as if grabbing his own life. He replied gently, "Nothing else except some things in daily life."

"Didn’t he say anything about me?" Fang Ruchang looked outside and questioned closely.

"No." Fang Jiping shook his head.

It followed by a long period of silence. As the two almost reached the deluxe residential area, Fang Ruchang gazed at the streetlights through the front windshield, saying coolly, "Look at this area. This is what a successful man should own."

He shifted his gaze to Fang Jiping, "These things are hard to get. You must cherish them well."

Fang Jiping nodded, but didn’t continue to talk about this topic... The lamplight of the front estate was far less magnificent than the common ones in the city, but that was what most people desired.

When the slow-moving car was about to arrive their duplex villa, it stopped suddenly.

Fang Ruchang gaped, "What’s wrong?"

Fang Jiping was also confused, "I don’t know, the engine stopped suddenly. Let me have a look."

Fang Jiping got off from the car at once. He opened the hood and saw a puff of dense smoke. Choking on the smoke, he let out a few coughs uncomfortably.

He used his hands to dispel the smoke, turning his head to breathe in fresh air. Nevertheless, at present, he saw a figure not far away from him.

Fang Jiping gave a start, gazing at this figure that hurried away. He tried to speak...but he failed to utter a voice.

Fang Ruchang stretched out his head from the car window to look at Fang Jiping, "Who did you see?"

"No...nothing, it should be a worker from the estate." Fang Jiping muttered, changing the subject in a flurry. "It’s weird, this car was bought last month but broke down so soon. The quality of current goods is surely questionable."

"Oh, is it?" Fang Ruchang opened the door and got off, "We almost arrived at our house. Leave the car here and call the property manager to deal with it."

...

Before the security guard came, a person got to the broke down car first.

Luo Qiu stretched out his hands to pat the headlights of this little car, murmuring, "Sorry, I had you become the scapegoat for bad quality."

But since it was a Japanese car... it had to become the scapegoat regardless of the problems.

Luo Qiu glanced at the lighted up house not far away, along with the silent figure that was staring under the tree outside of the house, saying to himself, "That’s all for today."

He retreated slowly, until his silhouette disappeared from the shadow.

When he got back to the club, looking at the time, it was already past dinner. Just then, the servant girl with a quiet, statue-like look now stood up, full of spiritual nature.

"Master, do you need dinner?"

Luo Qiu said, "Is it done?"

"It just needs to be reheated." The servant girl said with pity, "I’ve picked some wild fiddleheads, but it might be too stale to be eaten."

It was definitely false to say that they couldn’t be eaten. However, You Ye had a very high standard for the food that was served to the master and would not provide him with the food that lost even a little of its freshness.

Luo Qiu looked at the time, smiling. "That’s OK, pack it up, I’ll take it home and reheat it. Since it’s what you’ve picked, throwing it away will be a waste."

...

...

"Have you had your dinner yet?"

"Not yet... I’m starving and was just about to buy some food outside."

Downstairs, Luo Qiu called Ren Ziling on the phone--- because he didn’t see any light in the apartment being on.

"Don’t buy anything. I’ve cooked some food. Just come back."

"I love you so much! Baby!" A voice of Subeditor Ren came with elation, "Now! Ren Ziling is driving back to her warm home at the speed of 130 km/h! Hello, hello... don’t hang up!! F*ck!!"

Boss Luo laughed and put away the phone, pitying the poor Uncle Ma, who would help this woman cancel countless of speeding tickets this month.

Right then, at the roadside of his building, a woman was seen sitting on her luggage.

A foreign woman... Approximately 30 years old?

Luo Qiu didn’t see her appearance clearly. All he saw was this lady taking off her shoes and massaging her heels.

She raised her head suddenly because she felt that she saw someone passing by. She then asked in an unfamiliar Mandarin tone, "Excuse me, sir, I’ve just moved here today but twisted my ankle. Can you please help me up to my apartment?"

Luo Qiu looked at the building this foreign lady was pointing at... Oh, they were living in the same building.

"...Which floor?"

"Twelve."

Well... it was above him.

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