Chapter 34: Money, So Much Money

Chapter 34: Money, So Much Money

Jian Ruochen took a sip of warm milk tea. "How much is Jiang Hanyu asking for it?"

Luo Binwen paused. "The company's market value is quite low, only HK$1.8 billion. It currently generates almost no revenue, and its expenses are high. It's purely a gamble on future potential."

But potential, he thought, was all about clever marketing.

Luo Binwen flipped through his notebook. "He plans to sell it for HK$1 billion."

Jian Ruochen fell silent.

HK$1 billion—a bit steep.

But times had changed. "How much money do I have left now?"

He had been spending rather freely lately; surely, a significant amount was gone?

Luo Binwen let out a long sigh, his brow furrowed with that familiar, exasperated disappointment.

Jian Ruochen: ?

What? Was he going bankrupt?

Luo Binwen sighed dramatically. "You still have HK$13.28 billion, plus change. Let's not even count the small bits. How can you be so frugal? You must understand that money left in the bank will only continue to depreciate."

"Recently, the Hong Kong dollar exchange rate has fallen. Our businesses in Hong Kong generate nearly HK$100 million in net profit every day. In the past month, while it seems like you've saved HK$3.2 billion, you've actually lost nearly HK$100 million. Do you understand what I mean?"

Jian Ruochen: ...Oh, right. He still had professional managers making money for him.

So it wasn't bankruptcy.

It was that the more he spent, the more he accumulated.

He said softly, "Then, should we buy that tech company?"

Luo Binwen: "Good."

That's how it should be. Even if the invested money might be lost, the experience gained from investing was real.

Money, even if it was just for frivolous spending, shouldn't be left to rot in a bank vault.

Luo Binwen was satisfied.

Although events unfolded somewhat unexpectedly, Jian Ruochen still managed to secure the deal.

As Luo Binwen prepared to invite the professional manager to the house to discuss the acquisition, Jian Ruochen finished his breakfast in a daze.

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and glanced at the wall clock—it was 7 o'clock. "Uncle Luo, I'll be at the police station during this period. I'll leave the house to you."

Luo Binwen: "Do you need a driver to pick you up?"

Just as he finished speaking, the doorbell rang.

The manservant at the door opened it.

Guan Yingjun walked in from outside and paused at the entrance.

He wasn't wearing his usual trench coat and black high-neck cashmere sweater. Instead, he had on a black stand-up collar windbreaker, gray drawstring sweatpants, and a pair of black running shoes. The sleeves of the windbreaker were rolled up to his forearms, revealing firm muscles and a black watch strap on his wrist.

Simple, efficient, reserved, and detached—almost ascetic.

Before Jian Ruochen could get closer, he felt the warmth radiating from him. "Did you go for a morning workout?"

"Yeah." Guan Yingjun glanced around the living room.

The decor was understated and elegant, with hidden treasures—a clear British style. An English butler stood with a white dust cloth draped over his arm, looking directly at the entrance.

Jian Ruochen quickly introduced, "Uncle Luo, this is Senior Inspector Guan Yingjun from the West Kowloon Major Crimes Unit."

"Detective Guan, this is my butler, Luo Binwen."

The two men nodded to each other in greeting.

Jian Ruochen slung his backpack over his shoulder and turned to wave goodbye to Luo Binwen. "I'm off."

The distance from Lijing International Garden to the West Kowloon Regional Police Headquarters was less than 30 minutes, but Guan Yingjun skillfully cut the travel time to 15 minutes with his driving.

"What time do you wake up every day? Do you work out every morning? What do you do?" Jian Ruochen asked, watching the muscles in Guan Yingjun’s forearm flex as he pulled the handbrake.

Guan Yingjun said, "5:30. I work out every morning—some jogging and push-ups. It takes about an hour."

Jian Ruochen did the math.

By the time Guan Yingjun finished his morning workout today, he had just gotten out of bed...

How far he’d fallen.

Who would have thought that in his previous life, he was a police academy student who could run 1,000 meters without getting winded?

Guan Yingjun parked the car in the police station lot and used his card to enter the building with Jian Ruochen. He found his name on the sign-in sheet at the entrance and checked it off.

Jian Ruochen followed closely behind, his backpack slung over one shoulder.

This was his first time tagging along to work with someone else—it felt quite novel.

Turns out, even in the 1990s, people had to clock in for work.

The Hong Kong police station started work at 7:30, and it was now 7:20.

Guan Yingjun was cutting it close.

The police station lobby was bustling with people coming and going. Most were wearing crisp uniforms, while female officers from the administrative department, dressed in light blue police uniforms, steadily balanced stacks of files up to their chins as they briskly crossed the hall.

Everyone was racing against time.

After winding through the corridors until Jian Ruochen’s head was full of question marks, they finally stopped at the elevator door.

Jian Ruochen stared at the metal gates in front of him and fell silent for a moment. "You have an elevator?"

He’d been climbing the stairs for over a month!

Guan Yingjun grunted in response. "It’s too out of the way. We don’t usually take it. But we’re going to be late today."

"But didn't you already sign in?"

"You have to sign in again in your own department once you’re upstairs." Guan Yingjun stepped into the elevator, making space for Jian Ruochen, who was carrying his backpack.

The elevator had come up from the parking lot and was already filled with uniformed administrative staff. As Guan Yingjun stepped in, the cramped space instantly felt even more crowded.

Jian Ruochen hugged his backpack, feeling that the clerical staff all seemed a bit more solidly built than him, making it impossible to squeeze in.

Beside him, a male officer carrying a briefcase scooted over to make room.

Jian Ruochen stood in the gap between Guan Yingjun and the space he'd made, turned his head, pursed his lips in a slight smile, and whispered, "Thank you."

With his baby face and the backpack, he looked no different from a high school student.

"No problem," the officer replied.

For a moment, everyone in the elevator thought Detective Guan must have gone off the rails from undercover work. His post-mission psychological counseling clearly hadn’t done much good, and he still carried the gangster vibe of the underworld.

Years of accumulated ruthlessness had finally boiled over, and he’d gone and snatched a pretty, adorable minor to keep around for his own amusement.

Come to think of it, Detective Guan’s psychological counseling was done over at the CID.

Not long after returning, he was reassigned to their unit...

Could there really be something wrong with him?

As these thoughts crossed their minds, they stole glances at Jian Ruochen’s face.

Damn, where did Detective Guan manage to find such an upstanding, stunningly good-looking, kind-hearted, and generous student?

That face was absolutely breathtaking, a hundred times more attractive than anyone on TV.

The elevator dinged as it reached the 8th floor.

The two of them stepped out one after the other.

Just one second before the shift bell rang, Guan Yingjun signed his name on the sign-in sheet in front of Superintendent Lin.

Jian Ruochen watched the wildly scrawled signature with awe.

So even Detective Guan could scribble his name like a tangled ball of yarn when in a hurry.

Guan Yingjun walked to his office as usual, sat down, leaned back in his chair, and let out a slow breath.

He was usually calm and composed, but the hastily scrawled signature seemed to strip away his cold, silent exterior, revealing a flesh-and-blood, living person beneath.

The rest of Team A was on leave, so only two people were in the office.

Jian Ruochen curled up on the office sofa, memorizing his materials, while Guan Yingjun flipped through cold case files at his desk.

For a while, the only sound in the room was the rustling of paper.

The daylight was soft, but by evening, the lights had to be turned on.

Jian Ruochen couldn’t stand the office’s fluorescent lights—they made his eyes water—so he could only study by the dim yellow light of a desk lamp, like he was burning the midnight oil.

Guan Yingjun watched him and thought studying seemed even more exhausting than undercover work.

The Hong Kong Police Force worked on shifts.

Those who started at 7 a.m. finished at 3 p.m., while those who started at 3 p.m. worked until 11 p.m.

When he was undercover, even the drug lord gave him one day off a week.

But Jian Ruochen could study from 8 a.m. to 9 p.m.!

He kept at it for a whole week.

Focused, without even looking up.

Jian Ruochen, putting his college study habits to work, finished memorizing an entire subject’s worth of material in a week before realizing something was off.

Wasn’t he just here to sit in on meetings?

He looked suspiciously at Guan Yingjun. "Detective Guan, didn’t you say there might be a joint meeting? Where is it?"

Why hadn’t he heard anything about it?

Guan Yingjun paused. He’d been so absorbed in reviewing cold case files and organizing data this week that he’d forgotten about it.

He pulled out his work log and flipped through it. "It’s only tentatively scheduled. The Criminal Intelligence Bureau (CIB) said they’re flexible on timing, but the Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC) hasn’t confirmed yet."

The Hong Kong Police had distinct divisions, each with its own expertise.

The Criminal Intelligence Bureau (CIB) handled organized crime and narcotics, as well as intelligence gathering.

The Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC) dealt with major financial crimes, tax evasion, and corruption.

The Criminal Investigation Department (CID) was responsible for high-profile murder cases, kidnappings, and human trafficking rings led by organized crime groups.

Criminals like the Jiang and Lu families, who could simultaneously attract the attention of all three departments, were rare.

Jian Ruochen clicked his tongue. "Is it really that hard to schedule a meeting?"

"Yeah."

Guan Yingjun glanced at Jian Ruochen’s dry, chapped lips, filled a newly added glass with water, and handed it to him. "Actually, these three departments don’t trust each other. Everyone only trusts their own people. I have a good personal relationship with Ji Bailou, so we share information, which is why CIB and CID get along fairly well now."

"But ICAC isn’t based in the West Kowloon Regional Police Headquarters and has its own independent intelligence channels. They always do their own legwork on targets before any meeting."

As he spoke, Guan Yingjun’s gaze subtly lingered on Jian Ruochen’s face, and he added softly, "I suspect they still have their hands full."

Jian Ruochen sat quietly on the sofa, gulped down the water, and held the empty cup silently for a moment, still puzzled.

Wasn’t the point of a joint meeting to reduce the workload for all three parties?

Everyone shares information to work more efficiently.

The busy part comes after the meeting.

Since the meeting hasn’t even happened, what exactly is keeping ICAC so busy?

·

ICAC was busy investigating Jian Ruochen’s background.

Swamped beyond belief.

"Sir Liu, Star Network Entertainment is under Jian Ruochen’s name. It’s a subsidiary of Connacht Times Media & Film Co., Ltd. in Hong Kong. Its funding is legitimate."

"Sir Liu, Connacht Times Media & Film Co., Ltd. is also Jian Ruochen’s asset, but it’s registered in the UK with its headquarters in the US. If we want to investigate there, we’ll need to contact the embassy first."

"Sir Liu, the finance, automotive, catering, and real estate ventures under Jian Ruochen’s name are all inherited from his British mother and have no connection to the Jiang family."

"Sir Liu, the enterprises under Jian Ruochen’s name in Hong Kong reported a net profit of HK$3.6 billion in December, with tax payments exceeding HK$500 million."

It's endless. Just endless.

Properties. Countless properties.

Money. So much money.

HK$500 million in tax revenue could fund the entire ICAC for a year!

Inspector Liu looked exhausted at the stack of documents piled before him; every single page was a property report.

He raised his hand to stop his subordinate from handing over more papers, "Skip the clean ones, just tell me about the problematic ones."

The ICAC office fell dead silent.

Inspector Liu: "Nothing found?"

He had initially just wanted to follow procedure, to eliminate any suspicion around Jian Ruochen and be thorough.

But now, he found it absolutely unbelievable.

A 19-year-old college freshman suddenly inherits such vast wealth, more than one could count, and still goes to school!

Not just that, but he switched to some new obscure major and spends all his free time at the West Kowloon Police Station, not for pleasure but to help crack cases!

What kind of incredible focus and drive is this, it puts the rest of us to shame.

"Come here," Inspector Liu grabbed the officer who had earlier suggested Jian Ruochen might be suspicious, tapping his cheek, "Tell me, why would a billionaire deliberately cozy up to a Hong Kong cop with a monthly salary of HK$50,000? What does he want from Guan Yingjun? Give me your reasons for suspecting Jian Ruochen."

Rather than suspecting Jian Ruochen, it might make more sense to suspect Guan Yingjun of recruiting someone under false pretenses with ulterior motives!

The young officer pulled out a document, "I have no reasons, only facts. Jian Ruochen recently acquired an electronic technology business from the Jiang family, with HK$800 million flowing to the Jiangs."

"Jiang Hanyu then used this HK$800 million to prop up Lu Qian. With the money, Lu Qian immediately stabilized the legitimate operations of Tianquandu Entertainment City."

Inspector Liu looked at the report, then took a deep breath, "This electronic technology company has an estimated market value of HK$1.8 billion. Jian Ruochen haggled it down to HK$800 million to buy it back. Do you really think he's helping the Jiang family?"

That's cutting right to the artery!

Inspector Liu threw the report on the table with a slap, "That doesn't hold water. I don’t accept it."

The officer flushed red, gritting his teeth, "You’re being way too dismissive. The information I obtained isn’t something nobody else has. Why won’t you believe me?"

"Sir, you said it yourself—why would a billionaire deliberately get close to a senior inspector making HK$50,000 a month? He must have an angle! The West Kowloon Major Crimes Unit must have something he wants! Something more important than money!"

"My friend in CIB told me that on the day CIB’s Ji Bailou raided Bar 1892, Jian Ruochen was there with a drug lord! They have a close relationship. Jian Ruochen is likely an undercover plant in West Kowloon!"

Inspector Liu narrowed his eyes, "Your friend in the Criminal Intelligence Bureau?"

He picked up the document on the table and flipped through it again, "You didn’t get this intel by yourself, did you?… You can go for now. I need to think about it."

Inspector Liu pondered for a moment, then sent a message to Guan Yingjun at CIB, who was handling the Jiang-Lu case: "There’s a mole. Meeting postponed. January 16th, 9 PM, Dragon Court Bar in Hong Kong. Bring Ji Bailou."

·

On January 16th, Hong Kong University started its new semester. The transfer exams were only on major subjects, so the pressure wasn't too stressful.

In the evening, as Jian Ruochen finished his last exam and stepped out of the teaching building, he saw Jiang Hanyu waiting not far away.

Jiang Hanyu was surrounded by a group of people.

They looked well-to-do, with slim, delicate builds—likely dance or music students—gathered around Jiang Hanyu, comforting him.

Jiang Hanyu’s eyes were red, like he was heartbroken.

Jian Ruochen stopped and turned to leave.

Jiang Hanyu shouted sharply, "Stop!"

He marched over to Jian Ruochen, "Dad got the death penalty! Are you happy now? Is this the outcome you wanted?"

Jian Ruochen was taken aback. Jiang Mingshan’s trial was today?

The West Kowloon Magistrates' Court works fast. The media pressure must have really worked.

Seeing Jian Ruochen silent, Jiang Hanyu thought he was feeling guilty and sneered, "Nothing to say?"

The classmates who had been surrounding Jiang Hanyu grew indignant:

"Why bother talking to that scandalous bastard? Just hit him."

"Yeah, he’s taken so much from you. You’re too nice."

Jian Ruochen: …

This is rich.

Every time the protagonist group shows up, he feels like he’s back in the antique market of his past life, subjected to the nonsense from tabloid stories.

Jian Ruochen sighed softly and asked, "What are you even pretending for?"

Jiang Hanyu’s face paled slightly.

"Mr. Jiang Hanyu, if Jiang Mingshan dies, shouldn’t you be the happiest? With the Jiang family in your hands, no one will question your blood relation to Jiang Mingshan. You’ll secure the inheritance."

Jian Ruochen said, slowly blinking. Staring at the exam paper for too long had made his eyes uncomfortable. "Why are you shouting at me now? Playing the victim for sympathy? If you really can’t bear to let Jiang Mingshan go, you can appeal."

Jiang Hanyu was pushed over the edge.

It’s always like this…

Jian Ruochen is always like this!

No matter what he does, Jian Ruochen never takes him seriously. Why?!

Jiang Hanyu stared at that face, his mind echoing his classmates’ words—hit him.

He lost all reason and raised his hand to strike.

It wasn’t him who wanted to hit—others told him to.

Yes, he’d been disgusted by that face for a long time.

Why's it got to be so perfect?

It’d be best if he could smack that look right off his face!

Anyway, he’d already sold the electronic technology company and used the money to secure Lu Qian's situation.

As long as he still had Lu Qian by his side, he’d remain the Jiang family's young master who could do whatever he wanted.

Jiang Hanyu's hand was only halfway through its swing when someone grabbed it and yanked it away sharply. Driven by inertia, he staggered back two steps, lost his balance, and landed hard on his rear.

Jian Ruochen turned around and saw Guan Yingjun standing behind him. His eyes crinkled slightly in surprise. "Why are you here?"

Guan Yingjun's gaze flickered, settling on the face turned up toward him.

He hadn't picked up Jian Ruochen that morning, only then remembering that Hong Kong University had already started classes.

There was no one to chat with on the road, and no disheveled white-haired figure slumped on the office sofa memorizing texts. He found the day unbearably frustrating, as if something had slipped beyond his control.

Guan Yingjun fell into an abrupt silence for a moment, then spoke in an even tone, "I'm here to take you to meet some people."

After saying this, he glanced down at Jiang Hanyu sitting on the ground, his expression cold and severe. "Crime demands punishment—that's the natural order. How dare you resort to violence at school?"