Chapter 33: I’m Responsible for Your Safety (Revised +1000)

Chapter 33: I'm Responsible for Your Safety (Revised +1000)

After Jian Ruochen spoke, a long silence followed. He looked up, meeting a pair of deep, sharp eyes.

He licked his lips, "What's wrong?"

Guan Yingjun's gaze flickered over the small pink tip of Jian Ruochen's tongue before abruptly shifting away, suppressing the jumble of thoughts in his mind. "Nothing."

They had already set boundaries; how could he dare to openly test Jian Ruochen now?

Perhaps he had simply misjudged the situation and was overthinking it.

Lei Jinwen, unable to watch any longer, patted Guan Yingjun's shoulder. "You, honestly..."

The gossip columnist was right. With such good looks, 26 years old, never dated, and zero experience—either there was a problem upstairs or downstairs.

His nephew had quite the problem.

Lei Jinwen sighed, then approached Jian Ruochen, offering encouragement. "There's another Citizen of the Year Award at the end of next year. The certificate is even larger, and the medal design is different. With your capabilities, you're sure to win it."

Jian Ruochen's eyes instantly brightened.

Who wouldn't want to collect a complete set of medals?

"Alright, I won't interrupt your work any longer," Lei Jinwen said, turning to leave.

He wanted to get home early and share today's discoveries as a funny story with his wife.

Unlike his nephew, he had a beautiful wife.

Guan Yingjun stopped Jian Ruochen, who was about to see their superior out. "No need to escort him. It's getting late. Let's go upstairs to examine the lunchboxes first, then I'll take you home."

Jian Ruochen assented.

By evening, the officers of the West Kowloon Major Crimes Unit had either clocked out or gone downstairs to the local diner for dinner.

Only a few dim side lights remained on the upper floor.

The A Team office was shrouded in deep shadow, with various case files stacked high on desks and the floor. Most were unsolved cold cases, resembling silent, low peaks.

Jian Ruochen carefully navigated around them, avoiding stepping on any papers, and followed Guan Yingjun into the brightly lit Inspector's office.

The evidence bag containing the lunchbox lay on the desk.

Guan Yingjun pulled out a pair of gloves and handed them to Jian Ruochen. "There aren't many factories in Hong Kong that produce this type of lunchbox."

Jian Ruochen took the gloves and put them on, quickly shifting into work mode. "Generally speaking, factories that produce aluminum lunchboxes would likely also manufacture other aluminum products, such as compartmentalized trays and food cans."

Guan Yingjun handed over a stack of A4 paper. "This is the material analysis report from Forensics."

Jian Ruochen took it, glanced at it, and set it aside. "I'll look at it later."

He then focused intently on examining the two aluminum lunchboxes.

Guan Yingjun had already inspected both items. Now, standing in his own office, he felt a touch of idleness.

He turned, opened the file cabinet, retrieved a case file, and leaned against the window, flipping through a few pages.

The densely packed words on the pages seemed to swarm and dance before his eyes... Who printed this document? The font was so tiny, the layout so cramped, and the crime scene photos tucked within the file weren't clear enough.

Guan Yingjun closed the file, casually returned it to the cabinet, then turned and sat in the guest chair opposite Jian Ruochen, staring directly at the absorbed man.

A sudden thought crossed his mind: It's almost 6 p.m.—should I order dinner for Jian Ruochen downstairs?

Jian Ruochen carefully turned the lunchbox over, picked up the magnifying glass from the pen holder, and examined the embossed identification number inside.

Guan Yingjun dismissed the idea of ordering food.

Even if he ordered now, Jian Ruochen probably wouldn't have the appetite to eat.

The silver lunchbox was a bit dazzling under the fluorescent light. After examining it, Jian Ruochen squinted slightly, then reached for the forensics document nearby to review... Huh?

"This aluminum lunchbox contains iron?" he said, looking up, his eyes stung by the light again.

This time it was worse; his eyes welled up.

Jian Ruochen wiped them with his sleeve. "Detective Guan, your light is trying to murder me."

Guan Yingjun glanced up at the fluorescent light.

It was newly installed and brighter than usual, but it shouldn't be that harsh unless stared at directly. Could there be something wrong with Jian Ruochen's eyes?

He stood up, turned off the fluorescent light, and fumbled in the dark to switch on the desk lamp.

The yellowish, dim light illuminated just the central area of the desk.

Jian Ruochen immediately felt relief. "Thank you."

He blinked without a pause. "Generally, aluminum lunchboxes shouldn't contain iron. Iron accelerates oxidation and can be harmful to the human body. Eating from such utensils can lead to liver and nervous system problems, and even severe blood diseases."

Jian Ruochen pointed at the A4 paper. "This value is far beyond the safe limit."

Guan Yingjun couldn't see clearly. He leaned in closer, until he could catch the fresh, citrusy scent of pomelo from Jian Ruochen, barely making out the small gray text and arrows on the report.

Jian Ruochen rapidly scanned the rest of the report; there was no other useful information in the later sections.

Guan Yingjun looked down at him. Jian Ruochen's mind worked quickly. Not only was he intelligent, but his knowledge also complemented Guan Yingjun's, often highlighting overlooked details.

Following Jian Ruochen's lead, he said softly, "The iron in the lunchbox indicates that the factory isn't solely an aluminum manufacturer. They likely produce iron products as well. The manufacturer probably knew these lunchboxes wouldn't be used for food, which is why they dared to mix in iron."

"Right. There can't be many factories in Hong Kong that work with both aluminum and iron. It should be easy to find."

Jian Ruochen placed the two lunchboxes side by side. "These two boxes are almost identical. They were likely mass-produced using molds. Mold-making is expensive, so I suspect this factory might also produce similar pure iron boxes to sell on the market, to recoup costs."

Guan Yingjun grunted in agreement, then looked at the bloodshot whites of Jian Ruochen's eyes and suddenly didn't want to continue the discussion. He stated bluntly, "The code indicates the drug type and production order. The one from the bomb—'c' stands for drugs, '803' for methamphetamine, '299' for the 299th box."

Jian Ruochen listened, momentarily stunned.

He looked at the other lunchbox, retrieved from the transfer point, which was numbered c-803-820.

"So this is the 820th box?"

"Correct."

"Wow!" Jian Ruochen slammed his hand on the table. "820 kilograms! Enough to have Lu Qian executed sixteen thousand four hundred times!"

Guan Yingjun stifled a laugh for a moment but couldn't help letting out a chuckle. "You hate him that much?"

Jian Ruochen paused. "Not exactly."

He wanted to dismantle the Jiang and Lu families, firstly to avenge the original host.

After all, he had inherited their estate and couldn't just enjoy it without doing anything in return.

Secondly, because the education he received since childhood had taught him that scum deserved to die.

Guan Yingjun's lips tightened into a thin line.

He stood rigidly, his upper body completely obscured by the office's darkness, feeling a bit stifled.

Jian Ruochen couldn't discern his expression, so he simply propped himself on the desk, looking up. "Why does 'c' stand for drugs?"

The warm yellow light enveloped the young man, casting a soft, gentle veil over him.

Guan Yingjun was momentarily dazed, suddenly understanding the old saying—a beautiful person viewed under lamplight or moonlight appears ten times more captivating than in daylight.

He closed his eyes, but the image remained vivid in his mind.

Jian Ruochen's eyes were clear, not intentionally provoking him, but he was a normal man, one with stronger urges than most.

Yet, physical reactions were not always connected to the heart.

Guan Yingjun lowered his eyes, his tone hoarse and flat. "Most drug chemical formulas start with 'C,' like methamphetamine, which is C10H15N."

Jian Ruochen suddenly twisted the neck of the desk lamp, directing its light onto Guan Yingjun's face. "Why do you keep staring at me? If you have something to say, say it."

If not words, then expressions would suffice.

Guan Yingjun snapped back to attention, narrowing his eyes.

Jian Ruochen immediately said, "You're thinking quickly! Were you just staring at me blankly? What were you thinking about?"

Could it be about the botched salute?

Given Guan Yingjun's paranoia and sharpness, it was entirely possible.

Guan Yingjun was expressionless when serious. "Nothing. Do you want to have dinner?"

Jian Ruochen's train of thought stalled for a moment. "Huh?"

Dinner?

"Let's go, I'll take you to eat, then drive you home." Guan Yingjun picked up his coat hanging by the door and put it on, grabbing his car keys.

Chen Jincai's jeep keys lay forlornly to the side.

Jian Ruochen glanced at them and suddenly remembered that Detective Guan currently had no money to repair his car—his own car's side mirror was broken, and Chen Jincai's jeep had a damaged door. Replacing it with a better one would cost goodness knows how much.

If he couldn't even afford car repairs, how could he afford to treat him to dinner?

What would they eat?

The cafeteria.

Guan Yingjun swiped his work card and brought back two standard Hong Kong-style tea restaurant roast meat over rice meals, placing one in front of Jian Ruochen. "Eat, this is the best."

Jian Ruochen took a pair of disposable chopsticks, snapped them apart, rubbed them together to smooth out the splinters, and spaced out.

How did Detective Guan manage to spend nearly fifty thousand in monthly salary so completely?

This was fifty thousand dollars in 1992, after all.

The roast meat over rice was fragrant, reminiscent of the roast goose rice he had last time.

Before starting to eat, Guan Yingjun transferred Jian Ruochen's plain rice and blanched vegetables to his own box and handed over a specially ordered extra dish of broccoli stir-fried with beef.

This dish had a strong flavor, and Jian Ruochen cleaned his plate.

By the time Guan Yingjun drove him home after the meal, he still felt stuffed.

Jian Ruochen: ...Next time, he really shouldn't eat like this again.

He opened the car door, about to turn and say goodbye to Guan Yingjun in the driver's seat, when he heard the click of a seatbelt unbuckling.

Guan Yingjun got out of the car.

He stood at the hillside villa's garden gate, looking down as he said, "I have something to say."

Jian Ruochen made a puzzled sound from his nose. "Hmm?"

Guan Yingjun said, "Bring the books you need to study tomorrow. I'll take you to study at the police station."

Jian Ruochen tilted his head further, growing more confused.

Guan Yingjun clenched his hand in his pocket.

At this moment, his mind was almost on autopilot; his lips moved almost involuntarily, and the words tumbled out in an instant. "Lu Qian already wanted to kill you. We provoked him at 1892, and he might get desperate enough to hire a killer again. You're not safe right now."

Jian Ruochen raised an eyebrow.

"Desperate"—that was a good word choice.

Guan Yingjun's breathing was shallow.

He felt a bit strange—whether making decisions emotionally or rationally, he didn't want Jian Ruochen to be too far from him.

Guan Yingjun: "I lied and said you were a plant sent by the drug kingpin into the police force, but what kind of plant avoids their target for half a month, holing themselves up at home to study?"

Jian Ruochen: ...That made sense.

But something felt off. Had Detective Guan ever been this concerned about his personal safety before?

Guan Yingjun didn't give him much time to think, adding finally, "In a couple of days, our CID will hold a joint meeting with CIB and ICAC targeting the Jiang and Lu families. The three parties will collaborate, sharing current information to see if there are any connections."

"The meeting time isn't set yet, but if you want to attend..."

"You should be there every day for now. I'll pick you up and drop you off to ensure your safety."

Jian Ruochen immediately agreed to Guan Yingjun's request.

If he could attend this meeting, of course he would go. He needed more information to bring down the Jiang and Lu families and get his revenge.

What was the big deal about hitting the books at the station? He could do it!

·

Meanwhile, at Hong Kong's ICAC, in the conference room.

A group of people were gathered around a meeting, focused on a handsome face projected on the white screen.

A young police officer stood up to speak. "Sir Liu, I believe the source of this newly emerged billionaire's funds is unclear and likely involves financial crimes. Moreover, he is Jiang Mingshan's biological son."

Sir Liu rubbed his chin. "Are you sure? Did you not see the news from West Kowloon this morning? Do you think someone who says such things could be a criminal?"

"He is Jiang Mingshan's son!" the young officer said stubbornly. "I found the doctor who conducted the paternity test back then! I believe no matter how close he is to the West Kowloon Major Crimes Unit or how many great achievements he has made, he should not be allowed to attend the joint meeting!"

Everyone started talking at once.

"You're being a bit too extreme... He hasn't done anything wrong."

"Right, and what's the use of finding the doctor? You need to produce the actual test report. I could just find any doctor now, pay them off, and they'd claim they conducted the test for Jiang Mingshan and Jian Ruochen."

The young officer's face flushed red as he turned to Sir Liu.

Sir Liu laughed softly. "Since everyone has doubts, let's first investigate the source of Jian Ruochen's funds and see if he has any connections to the Jiang and Lu families. If there are issues, we'll follow procedure. If not..."

His gaze turned icy cold, locking onto the young officer. "You'll have to explain why you made such a rash assumption."

The young officer clenched his jaw, his face pale.

·

While Jian Ruochen, after finishing his meal and a shower, was lying contentedly in bed, digesting his roast meat and rice meal.

At Jiangting Estate.

Jiang Hanyu was desperately trying to scrape together money.

Although Lu Qian hadn't openly expressed his dissatisfaction, Jiang Hanyu needed to quickly gather a sum of money to keep him happy.

In the past, he could have just used charm to smooth things over, but not anymore.

If he couldn't bring value to Lu Qian, the rift torn open by Jian Ruochen between them would only widen.

The Jiang family couldn't afford to lose Lu Qian now.

Jiang Hanyu rushed frantically toward the study but stumbled before entering, shattering a vase placed by the study door.

He shrieked, "Are you all blind? Can't you see? Clean this up now!" After yelling, he hurried into the study, pulled open a drawer, and rummaged through the files inside.

He had to find an industry that currently had mediocre returns but was widely considered to have promising prospects—preferably one that would lose money for a year or two before it takes off.

What was it... What could it be!

Jiang Hanyu wanted to cry, pulling at his hair in frustration.

Why couldn't he be smarter?

Why did he always have to lose to Jian Ruochen!

Think, think! There must be something.

He refused to lose to that bastard who destroyed his whole family!

"Ah, this is it." Jiang Hanyu pulled out a file buried at the very bottom and let out an excited laugh.

This electronics company that's been losing money!

He remembered his father mentioning it was already planned to be sold!

It's called... computers!

·

The next day, at 6:30 a.m., Jian Ruochen dragged himself out of bed and sat half-asleep at the table, eating breakfast.

His body was awake, but his soul was still in bed.

Luo Binwen filled him in on some earnings and decisions. Most of the time, Jian Ruochen barely understood, only grasping that he needed to spend 90 million today to maybe spend all of yesterday's earnings.

But one thing stuck out.

Jian Ruochen jerked his head up. "What did you say? The Jiangting Group is selling its only electronics company? They're developing portable computers?"

Jian Ruochen seemed to remember that in 1998, the country's first smart portable notebook computer passed its tests and was compatible with Lenovo's system.

The lead professor behind it seemed to have been poached from Hong Kong.

No way... Is this a lucky break?