Chapter 7: Teacher Li Isn’t Buying It

Chapter 7: Professor Li Isn't Falling for This

Jian Ruochen froze for a moment.

The camera had clearly captured his cold, almost indifferent gaze as he wiped Huo Jinze's tears.

Why were cameras so clear in the 1990s?

If he had known he'd be filmed and scrutinized, he would have put on a full act during the interrogation.

Though the whole time-travel thing was baffling, would Professor Li think he was unprofessional?

Jian Ruochen clutched the gift bag, regret etched across his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a fleeting smile on Guan Yingjun's lips.

Guan Yingjun wore a light gray V-neck cashmere sweater with notably loose sleeves, beneath which the drawstring of his pure black athletic pants peeked out. On his feet were gray-blue sneakers.

His understated style made him look even more formidable. Best not to provoke him for now...

Jian Ruochen shifted a step to the side, creating a bit more distance.

Just as Li Zhangyu finished watching the recording, he noticed the protagonist on screen inching towards the door.

The young man’s outfit today was well-fitted and proper.

A snow-white puffer jacket enveloped his frame, its hood lined with a fluffy fur trim.

Half his face was buried in the collar, the lower part completely obscured by the raised fabric, while the exposed upper half was flushed pink from the room's warmth.

His amber eyes were wide and round, with a slight upward curve at the outer corners, clearly betraying his regret and surprise.

He looked like a well-behaved and tidy young man.

Neither Li Zhangyu nor Guan Yingjun spoke.

Jian Ruochen decided to take the initiative.

He walked straight up, gift bag in hand. "Hello, Professor Li. I'm Jian Ruochen. I heard you're planning to establish a new department for criminal psychology at the university, so I specifically came to visit today."

Jian Ruochen placed the small gift bag beside Li Zhangyu. "Since it's our first meeting, I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I bought a small tea tray ornament."

He scratched his cheek, then revealed his true intentions. "I'm curious, what did you think after watching my recording? Actually, I've always been interested in criminal psychology but never had the chance to study it systematically. Now that you're offering courses, I felt I absolutely had to seize this opportunity and transfer majors as soon as possible in my freshman year... I wonder if I'm good enough to be your student~"

With Guan Yingjun having brought the tape, he didn't even need to introduce himself.

What a godsend!

Guan Yingjun, sitting on the sofa in the reception area, found that rising '~' tone at the end noticeably ingratiating, like he was trying to curry favor.

Li Zhangyu had encountered more criminals than most people had eaten salt, and he was famously upright and incorruptible. Countless suspects had tried to bribe him without success.

Would he fall for this?

Li Zhangyu smiled and took the gift bag, opening it for a look. "A small tea pet? A persimmon?"

Jian Ruochen said, "It symbolizes 'everything going as wished'—for good luck."

The customs in Hong Kong leaned British, and Li Zhangyu, having returned from the U.S., wasn't one for polite refusals.

He opened it right there and, after examining it, happily placed it on the portable tea tray on his desk, clearly enamored.

Guan Yingjun: ...

He glanced at Li Zhangyu and reminded him, "Professor Li, you haven't answered my question yet."

With so many suspicious points about Jian Ruochen, he really wasn't suitable to be your student.

"Later."

Li Zhangyu didn't even look up, busy boiling water with the office kettle, eager to try out the little tea pet right away.

The elderly man waved to Jian Ruochen, "Go take a seat on the sofa. We'll talk in detail in a bit."

The difference in attitude was quite obvious.

Jian Ruochen smiled and nodded, heading toward the sofa.

The reception area had only two sofas. On the armrest of the single-seater lay a leather jacket, and beside the backrest was a leather bag the size of an A4 document.

Clearly, Li Zhangyu's usual spot.

Jian Ruochen had no other option but to sit next to Guan Yingjun.

The two-seater sofa wasn't long, and a glass coffee table stood in front of it.

Guan Yingjun's long legs had no room to stretch, so he sat with them apart.

As soon as Jian Ruochen sat down, his knee brushed against the young man's leg—a quick touch that made them both slightly uncomfortable.

Guan Yingjun frowned, removed the cushion behind his back, and moved further back, putting a bit more distance between them.

But it didn't help much. Jian Ruochen's clothes were puffy and soft, making him look like a ball of cotton curled up on the sofa. The hem of his jacket pressed against Guan Yingjun's side, sending off constant warmth.

Guan Yingjun felt the air getting stuffy and slipped his hand into his pocket, touching his cigarette case.

Jian Ruochen figured him out. "Want a smoke?"

As he turned his head, the scent from Guan Yingjun spread out.

The aroma of black tea was really strong—rich but not pungent, forcefully hitting his nose with an assertive presence.

Jian Ruochen didn't understand. "You don't drink black tea, but you smell like it. Why?"

Guan Yingjun initially didn't want to answer, but Jian Ruochen had moved closer while asking.

Answer, and maybe he'd look away.

Guan Yingjun said quietly, "I smoke black tea-leaf cigarettes."

No wonder he smelled like black tea. Guan Yingjun must have money—a pack of tea-leaf cigarettes cost at least 200 bucks.

200 bucks in the 1990s...

Jian Ruochen suddenly said, "You're not a police officer at the Sham Shui Po Police Station, are you?"

Guan Yingjun gave him a side look.

He didn't answer, and the air went completely quiet.

The office was silent except for the sound of the AC and Li Zhangyu working with the kettle.

After a long while, he finally spoke, "How did you know?"

"Because of Chen Yunchuan," Jian Ruochen replied without hesitation. "A person's accessories and clothing can roughly reflect their family background and income level. The salary at Sham Shui Po Police Station might support an Officer Chen who likes buying new clothes, but it can't sustain a police officer who smokes half a pack of tea cigarettes a day."

Clothes can be worn for a long time, but cigarettes are consumables.

Li Zhangyu had finished boiling water and was carrying the tea tray over when he heard this. He chuckled and praised, "Not bad, a sharp eye for detail. Guan Yingjun is the head of the West Kowloon Regional Crime Unit."

Jian Ruochen stood up to help Li Zhangyu set out the tea tray and casually complimented, "That's quite impressive."

Guan Yingjun wasn't swayed, frowning as he said, "Uncle Li."

How could he just reveal his identity like that?

Jian Ruochen was already wary of him.

Once his position was out in the open, how could he continue feeling him out?

Li Zhangyu poured a cup of tea and placed it in front of Guan Yingjun. "I've watched all three recordings, and there's nothing wrong with them. You... are too suspicious."

The old man sighed and advised earnestly, "I know it's because you did that undercover stint that you've become like this. But your mission is over now. You should live a normal life like everyone else."

Jian Ruochen secretly perked up his ears, ready to catch some insider information.

"Enough, Uncle Li," Guan Yingjun said slowly, finishing the green tea in his cup. He stood up to get the tape from the projector and picked up his trench coat. "Uncle Li, let's leave the matter of the recordings for now. How are you considering the offer to become a Criminal Psychological Consultant for the West Kowloon Major Crimes Unit?"

Jian Ruochen glanced at Guan Yingjun and then at Li Zhangyu. These two must be close.

But even when asking a favor from someone familiar, one should show some sincerity.

If it were him, he’d bring a pound of good tea.

Just talk can turn a sure thing into nothing.

Moreover, since Li Zhangyu had given up his position in the U.S. to return to Hong Kong as a teacher, it must be because his ambitions didn't lie with the police force.

Otherwise, why wouldn't he stay in the U.S.?

Sure enough, Li Zhangyu waved his hand and said, "I want to teach. Criminal psychology here hasn't even started yet, while abroad it's already far ahead. It's time to cultivate talent."

Guan Yingjun was blunt. "Domestically, criminal psychology doesn't get much attention, and the job outlook's pretty slim. Aside from us at West Kowloon, no other police station is willing to take this step and shell out for an extra salary." He paused. "Uncle Li, you might not even get any students."

Li Zhangyu didn't get mad. He tilted his chin toward Jian Ruochen. "Isn't this one here?"

Jian Ruochen's eyes lit up, a smile spreading across his face. "Professor Li, you'll take me?"

He picked up the teacup with both hands and poured another cup for Guan Yingjun, making a point: "I should also thank Detective Guan for bringing the recordings for Professor Li to see."

Guan Yingjun: Hah, he said, trying to provoke him on purpose?

He stared into the young man's smiling fox-like eyes, took the tea, and knocked it back in one gulp.

Jian Ruochen remained so composed despite repeated needling—his nerve was something else.

Only 19 years old...

Li Zhangyu said to Guan Yingjun, "Jian Ruochen has broad knowledge and a solid foundation. Don't you want a consultant? Recruit him. I'll teach him well for your use. This way, I fulfill my wish to teach and educate, and your West Kowloon Major Crimes Unit gets a consultant."

Guan Yingjun initially wanted to refuse.

But on second thought, although Jian Ruochen had a lot of things off about him, he did have some skills. Just his interrogation technique alone surpassed anyone else in West Kowloon.

Hong Kong was currently in a turbulent time, a mixed bag of chaos.

He was busy with work; keeping tabs on Jian Ruochen 24/7 wasn't feasible, but letting him run loose was no good.

All things considered, keeping him close was actually the best solution.

He'd first verify whether Jian Ruochen had undergone work done to change his appearance.

He had asked his aunt before—the best way to check for major facial reconstruction was to watch the person eat.

Those who had undergone full-face procedures couldn't use their facial muscles freely and would look extremely unnatural when chewing large pieces of food.

He wanted to see how Jian Ruochen ate.

Guan Yingjun glanced at his watch. "Uncle Li, are you hungry? How about going to Huangji for brunch? My treat."

He then turned to Jian Ruochen. "You come too. Call it a welcome-to-the-team lunch."

Jian Ruochen muttered softly. "Since you called it a welcome-to-the-team lunch, how can I let you treat?"

If he hadn't sensed that Guan Yingjun disdained playing nice, he would've thought the man was deliberately setting him up.

And he even suggested Huangji, the most expensive place!

Thankfully, he was loaded now, or he'd have felt like punching Guan Yingjun a couple of times.

Guan Yingjun, standing in the air-conditioned room wearing his trench coat, was already breaking a sweat after just a few minutes.

He said hoarsely, "Consider it my way of playing matchmaker. If I hadn't brought the recordings, Uncle Li wouldn't have taken on a student so quickly. You poured me tea, so it's only right that I treat you."

Jian Ruochen: ...

There are actually such shameless guys in this world.

No wonder there's a line in Hong Kong films: "Some cops, once they take off their uniforms and put on plain clothes, act even more like ruffians than the ruffians themselves."

"Fine," Jian Ruochen said, wrapping his cream-colored cashmere scarf tightly around his neck, his voice muffled. "Then I'll gladly accept."

Li Zhangyu egging him on: "Yes, order the shark fin congee first and eat until he can't afford to smoke."

Guan Yingjun walked out of the office building, took a slender tea cigarette from his pocket, lit it with a match.

Working on cases was mentally exhausting; it was common for detectives to smoke to stay alert.

A cold breeze blew the smoke rings toward Jian Ruochen.

Guan Yingjun snapped the match out and waved away the smoke drifting toward Jian Ruochen. As they walked, he said, "My car is parked at the front gate of your school. We'll have to walk a bit."

Jian Ruochen shoved his hands in his pockets. "Mm."

Li Zhangyu urged, "I'm freezing. Let's hurry."

Jian Ruochen was bundled up like crazy, walking like a marshmallow wobbling in the wind.

His hair and clothes were all white, making the soft yellow scarf around his neck particularly eye-catching.

It stood out so much that Jiang Hanyu, standing at the school gate, spotted that touch of soft yellow at a glance.

Soft and warm.

Jiang Hanyu's gaze swept over a tall man smoking beside Jian Ruochen, then he stepped forward, "Gege."

His voice was neither loud nor soft, its tone swallowed by the cold wind before it could travel far.

Jian Ruochen didn't hear him.

Jiang Hanyu had to run up to Jian Ruochen, blocking his path, "Ruochen-ge."

Jian Ruochen stopped and looked up.