Chapter 36: Caught the Thief

Chapter 36: Catching the Thief

Jian Ruochen blinked, twisted his arm, and effortlessly slipped free from Guan Yingjun's grasp.

Guan Yingjun’s fingers curled slightly before dropping to his side.

The Dragon Court Bar was a quiet establishment.

After winding through a maze of corridors, the two finally reached their reserved private room.

Guan Yingjun turned to open the door. Just as Jian Ruochen was about to peek inside, a hand pulled him against the wall.

A second later, he heard the distinct click of a gun’s safety being engaged from inside the room.

Ji Bailou slid his gun back into its holster and laughed, scolding toward the doorway, "You didn’t even knock—almost gave me a heart attack."

Guan Yingjun replied tersely, "Forgot."

He reached behind and pulled Jian Ruochen forward. "Liu Qishang, I brought the person you wanted to see."

Jian Ruochen looked up.

Three people were sitting in the room.

Ji Bailou was wearing a black windbreaker and semi-rimless gold-framed glasses. His hair was styled in a trendy, layered cut, fluffy as if freshly washed.

Though his face still had that tired, sleep-deprived look, he carried the vibe of a college student.

Black windbreakers really were a youth-enhancing essential for men—whoever wore one looked younger.

Next to Ji Bailou sat a man in a gray suit and a flashy burgundy tie, looking every bit like a bank clerk.

His hair was slicked back, and behind his sharp gaze lay a hint of shock and confusion. He spoke blankly, "When did I say I wanted to see Jian Ruochen?"

Guan Yingjun scoffed, "If you didn’t want to see him, why’ve you been investigating him behind our backs for half a month?"

Liu Qishang clicked his tongue. "You’re not even in the Criminal Intelligence Bureau anymore—how are you still so well-informed?"

Ji Bailou toyed with a transparent dice in his hand and chuckled, "Your subordinates made too much noise. Everyone knows now."

Liu Qishang felt a bit awkward.

If it were just the usual guys here, it wouldn’t matter—but the very person he’d been investigating for half a month was standing right in front of him.

Jian Ruochen extended his hand. "Good evening, Sir Liu."

Liu Qishang quickly set down his glass and shook his hand. "Hello."

The handshake was brief.

Guan Yingjun turned to lock the door. When he faced the room again, he formally introduced, "Liu Qishang, Senior Inspector of the Independent Commission Against Corruption. He handles financial crimes committed by the Jiang and Lu families, investigating corruption and illegal gains. The Lu family couldn’t have grown this big without protection from above. It’s been four years, and the ICAC still hasn’t found out who Lu Qian’s protector is."

Liu Qishang stared silently at Guan Yingjun.

Guan Yingjun suddenly remembered and added, "He proposed to Lin Yazhi in public. It didn’t work out."

Liu Qishang fell even deeper into silence.

He sat back down next to Ji Bailou, picked up his glass, and took a gloomy swig.

Four years investigating Lu Qian with nothing to show for it.

Half a month investigating Jian Ruochen, and now it seemed all for nothing.

Lin Yazhi had even refused to marry him, only agreeing to date.

Ah... he really was a failure of a man.

Jian Ruochen almost felt sorry for him.

Guan Yingjun patted Jian Ruochen’s back and gestured toward the person sitting in the single sofa. "This is my informant, Huang Youquan."

Huang Youquan had bleached blond hair and an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth. He was sprawled lazily in the single sofa, legs splayed wide.

With a roguish grin, he brought his right index and middle fingers together and saluted Jian Ruochen. "Well hello, Sir Jian. I’ve heard so much about you."

Informants—a profession operating in the gray zone.

They traded information for money with the police, usually being minor criminals themselves.

These individuals, caught for lighter offenses, struck deals with the police—providing intel in exchange for dropped charges or leniency.

Jian Ruochen smiled and nodded at him. "Hello."

Huang Youquan was taken aback.

He stopped shaking his leg, shifted back in his seat, and sat up straighter.

Damn.

This was the first time he’d been met with a look completely free of disdain.

In Jian Ruochen’s eyes, he didn’t seem like someone skirting the edges of society—but rather, just as legitimate as Ji Bailou and Liu Qishang.

Finally, Guan Yingjun turned to Ji Bailou. "You’ve met him before. Ji Bailou, Senior Inspector of the Criminal Intelligence Bureau. He’s handling the Lu family’s drug trafficking operations. So far, he’s taken down one of Lu Qian’s transit hubs—the one we visited last time."

Jian Ruochen nodded. "Mhm, mhm." His stomach growled.

It was already nine o’clock. Wasn’t it time to eat yet?

Guan Yingjun led him to the empty couch and handed him a menu.

Jian Ruochen ordered lobster fried rice and a curiously named "Ice Soul Plum Sauce." Just as he was about to add a side to go with the sauce, Liu Qishang suddenly straightened up.

His eyes burned with intensity. "Guan Yingjun, what did you just say? You and Jian Ruochen went to that transit hub Ji Bailou took down?"

Guan Yingjun responded, "Yes. We were the ones who called Ji Bailou over."

Liu Qishang’s brain short-circuited. "You reported it?"

He asked in shock, "Then who was the drug lord that Jian Ruochen was messing around with?"

Messing around...

Jian Ruochen’s hand trembled. The pencil skipped past the onion rings and landed on the fried crab leg.

Guan Yingjun lowered his gaze, silently mulling over the words "messing around."

He thought of Jian Ruochen clutching his stomach and leaning into his shoulder, and then of how they’d put on a show for Lu Qian in the car.

Guan Yingjun leaned back on the sofa, a smirk curling his lips. "I was the one who did it."

Liu Qishang felt like he could be a circus clown if he just wore a red nose.

Clutching his cup tightly, he fumed, "I'm going to shoot Chen Zudan."

Jian Ruochen glanced at Liu Qishang's waist and whispered a reminder, "Sir Liu, does ICAC carry service weapons?"

Liu Qishang—

Right, ICAC doesn’t carry service weapons.

He could only talk tough to make himself feel better.

Jian Ruochen understood completely.

He comforted, "It's alright, Sir Liu. You and Detective Guan are friends, and you're a police officer. It's only natural to be cautious of people at first."

Like attracts like.

It's better for cops dealing with criminals to be careful—otherwise, they might not even know how they died.

Jian Ruochen’s attitude was unexpectedly gracious, and Liu Qishang felt pretty ashamed.

This was a big shot paying $500 million in taxes a month.

A single tax payment could support ten thousand Senior Inspectors making fifty thousand a month.

There were only thirty thousand police officers in all of Hong Kong. Among them, Senior Inspectors were few and far between—not even close to ten thousand.

The taxes Jian Ruochen paid alone could support the entire Hong Kong police force.

Liu Qishang sighed. "This meal is on me. I'm really sorry—I almost turned your life inside out investigating you."

Jian Ruochen: "It's fine. I actually don’t even know where my money comes from. It's good to check—we can’t do anything illegal. Thank you for helping me run the checks. Now that it’s clear, I can rest easy."

Liu Qishang—

So he’d done free labor for Jian Ruochen?

Meaning those $3.2 billion just landed in your lap for nothing?

Ah…

Liu Qishang thought blankly: Comparing yourself to others will kill you. I really am a total failure.

A waiter knocked on the door, breaking the slightly awkward atmosphere in the private room.

Ji Bailou went to open the door, his hand resting on the service weapon at his lower back, half his body hidden in the shadows, extremely cautious. Only after the waiter had set out all the appetizers and food and left did he relax. "It's certain that there’s a corrupt cop in our CIB—we just can't figure out who. Right now, I suspect everyone."

Guan Yingjun chuckled. "Probably not someone from your team."

"Right." Jian Ruochen dipped a cracked fried crab leg into the plum sauce. "The exact words I overheard were: 'The corrupt cop sent word that CIB is headed this way.'"

"That phrasing makes it clear—the corrupt officer wasn’t on the raid team with you. He didn’t even know which team was dispatched."

Liu Qishang was shocked. "You went to eavesdrop?"

Ji Bailou thought, That's nothing.

He even went to steal evidence.

Not one to be outdone, Liu Qishang pulled a few A4 sheets from his inner pocket. "I have a lead. Actually, the reason I investigated Jian Ruochen is that someone on my team was convinced he was the mole."

"If I didn’t investigate, it would be hard to maintain authority."

Guan Yingjun said, "That Chen Zudan?"

Liu Qishang nodded. "First, he brought news that Jian Ruochen spent $800 million to acquire Jiangting Electronics. Then he told me Jian Ruochen was hanging out with a drug lord at a bar."

"He said his friend in CIB gave him this information."

Guan Yingjun flipped through the file Liu Qishang handed over with one hand.

Inside were details on Chen Zudan and his close police buddies.

Jian Ruochen leaned over to look—he didn’t recognize any of them.

He didn't think he could contribute.

Guan Yingjun had brought him to dinner probably not for assistance, but to get Liu Qishang to drop his guard and stop wasting time on investigating his background—a dead end.

The documents made the rounds and eventually ended up with Ji Bailou.

Seeing they still had much to discuss, Jian Ruochen leaned close to Guan Yingjun’s ear and said, "I’m going to the bathroom."

He’d finished eating and wanted to wash his hands.

Guan Yingjun thought for a moment—he couldn’t loan his gun, but handcuffs were fine.

He took off the handcuffs and handed them over. "After you go out, turn left and go straight—the bathroom is there. If you run into anyone suspicious, just cuff 'em on the spot and come back to get us."

Jian Ruochen—

What a dirty move—cuff someone in the bathroom and then run for it, huh?

Okay, got it.

He turned and aimed his pocket toward Guan Yingjun. "My hands are dirty—put them in here."

Guan Yingjun placed the handcuffs in his pocket.

Jian Ruochen used his elbow to push down the door handle and left.

In the private room.

Liu Qishang and Ji Bailou were staring straight at Guan Yingjun.

Something was off, really off.

The old Guan Yingjun was detached, kept to himself, and even handing out cigarettes felt like he was judging you.

How did he become so considerate now?

Was this kindness for everyone, or just for Jian Ruochen?

Guan Yingjun looked up, puzzled. "Why are you looking at me? Is there 'mole' written on my face?"

Ji Bailou lowered his head.

So this human touch was reserved for one person only.

He lowered his gaze, memorizing the names and faces from the documents, his heart sank like a stone.

Does Guan Yingjun know what it means to like men in this era?

Not long ago, a minor Hong Kong celebrity from a small port city, after being exposed as having a boyfriend, couldn't take the harassment and public pressure, and ended up jumping off a building.

Jian Ruochen has money and a backup plan—the public tends to be more forgiving toward prominent capitalists.

But Guan Yingjun is different. He has none of that, and his uncle is the Commissioner. The scrutiny he’d face would only be more intense, not less.

As Guan Yingjun’s brother, he really doesn’t want to see him end up in that spot.

“Sigh…” Ji Bailou let out a long sigh.

Liking men—it seems like something you’re born with, doesn’t it?

Huang Youquan was almost asleep but was jolted awake by Ji Bailou’s sigh.

He sat up straight, his blond hair bouncing slightly, and asked in confusion, “Why hasn’t Jian Ruochen come back yet?”

How long does it take to wash your hands?

Could something have actually happened?

·

Jian Ruochen had run into a thief.

This thief probably thought the shiny silver object in his pocket was a piece of jewelry or an expensive watch. While Jian Ruochen was washing his hands, the thief stood beside him and started to swipe it.

Jian Ruochen: …

Watching the thief’s seemingly clever but actually clumsy movements, he grabbed the thief’s wrist. “Your skills are a bit rusty, aren’t they?”

Trying to show off in front of an expert?

The thief was stunned for a moment.

His movements were quick and decisive—where was the rust?

He’d been stealing like this for years!

How could someone who didn’t know anything just talk nonsense?

Jian Ruochen sighed softly. “What’s your name? Let me show you how it’s done.”

The thief raised an eyebrow.

Had he run into a fellow professional?

“My surname is Lin.” As soon as he finished speaking, his wrist was seized.

Taking advantage of the thief’s distraction, Jian Ruochen grabbed his other hand and slipped it into the handcuffs.

*Click*—it locked.

Guan Yingjun’s handcuffs worked like a charm.

Jian Ruochen pushed him. “Behave yourself, Mr. Lin.”

The thief: …

He looked at the “silver bracelet,” then at Jian Ruochen, his expression cracking. “Are you a cop?”

Jian Ruochen said, “Not exactly.”

The thief: Not exactly?

Either you are or you aren’t.

What does “not exactly” mean?

Jian Ruochen smoothed his hair. “Do I look like an easy target to you?”

It was the same in his past life.

Whenever he left the compound or school, he seemed to attract criminals.

His instructors at the academy thought he’d be perfect for undercover stings.

The thief: So unlucky. I really misjudged this one.

“Hey, officer, I only tried to take your handcuffs—and I didn’t even succeed. Doesn’t that count as attempted? How about letting it slide?”

Just from his tone, Jian Ruochen could tell he was a seasoned troublemaker.

He smiled. “Sure, but the key to the handcuffs is in the private room. You’ll have to come back with me first.”

Handcuffs could restrain hands but not feet.

If the thief decided to run, he might not be able to catch him. But if he could lure him back to Guan Yingjun and Ji Bailou, things would be different.

Those two looked like they could hold their own in a fight.

Jian Ruochen gave him a push. “Let’s go.”

The thief was suspicious and hesitant. “You’re not tricking me, are you?”

Jian Ruochen pulled out his pager, sending a message to Guan Yingjun as he said, “Tricking you? If you’re brave enough, run. If you run, I’ll open fire.”

Liu Qishang’s bluff of “I’ll shoot so-and-so” was surprisingly effective.

Lin Zheng immediately became obedient.

He followed Jian Ruochen into the private room, but the moment he saw Guan Yingjun sitting on the sofa, his face paled, and he turned to run.

Ji Bailou, standing by the door wearing the fisherman’s hat Guan Yingjun had handed him after receiving the message, kicked the door shut with a *bang*.

He pulled his gun, pressing it against the intruder’s stomach. “Don’t move! Hands up, head down, squat!”

Lin Zheng looked up in shock. “Ji Bailou? What are you doing here?”

Jian Ruochen glanced from Ji Bailou to Lin Zheng.

Ji Bailou was in disguise, with only the lower part of his face visible.

Unless someone knew him extremely well, he wouldn't be recognized.

Ji Bailou put away his gun, his tone a little uncertain: "Lin Zheng?"

"It's me, Sir Ji." Lin Zheng stood up, holding out his cuffed hands to Ji Bailou. "Quick, Sir Ji, help me get these off."

Ji Bailou took a step back, not touching the handcuffs. "What happened to you?"

"It's like this..." Jian Ruochen explained how Lin Zheng had tried to steal something but ended up with the handcuffs instead.

The entire room fell into a heavy silence.

The situation was both unlucky and ridiculous.

Lin Zheng looked at Jian Ruochen, never expecting that one day he’d be brought down by his own lack of caution.

In all his life, he’d never encountered a cop who lied with such sincerity.

He’d promised an exchange between fellow professionals, only to cuff him without warning.

He’d promised to come back for the keys, but as soon as the door opened, three detectives were standing there.

With guns drawn.

Ji Bailou slid his gun back into his waistband and said coldly, "Didn’t you say before that you’d stop stealing?"

Lin Zheng chuckled awkwardly, slipping into a smooth, pleading tone. "I just had an itch, you know... I couldn’t help wanting to grab something. But I didn’t actually steal anything—I was cuffed before I even got started!"

Jian Ruochen said, "You’re lying."

"Your neck is flushed, your nose is red, and you’re blinking faster than before. You’ve stolen from someone else today, haven’t you?"

Lin Zheng cursed inwardly and forced a smile. "I’m an informant for the CIB (Criminal Intelligence Bureau)."

Ji Bailou smirked. "So CIB informants are allowed to steal? Is stealing money from civilians part of the job the police gave you?"

Lin Zheng put his hands together and bowed begging. "Sir Ji, I was wrong. I won’t ever do it again, I promise."

Guan Yingjun let out a short laugh. "That’s exactly what you said last time I caught you."

He grabbed Lin Zheng by the collar, pulled his jacket open, and reached inside.

Lin Zheng panicked, struggling to break free, but Guan Yingjun was too strong. He quickly pulled out item after item.

A gold watch, diamond ring, gold-bead bracelet, bracelet, wallet...

One by one, they clattered to the floor.

Ji Bailou snorted in disbelief. "And this is what you call 'never again'?"

Guan Yingjun looked at the haul. "Eight years in prison."

"Eight years? Sir Ji." Lin Zheng grabbed Ji Bailou’s jacket, pleading desperately. "I’ve been an informant for the CIB for so long. Even if I haven’t done great things, I’ve put in the work. Surely that doesn’t mean I deserve jail time?"

Ji Bailou glanced at Guan Yingjun. "Detective Guan is the one who caught you. I might’ve been able to cover for you once, but not a second time."

Lin Zheng made a decision. He went down on his knees in front of Guan Yingjun. "Let me go this once. I’ll be Ji Bailou’s dedicated informant. Aren’t you investigating Lu Qian? I’ll go undercover in one of his drug dens for you."

A dedicated informant wasn’t just gathering intel—it meant going deep behind enemy lines, risking your life.

Most people would rather do extra time in prison than become a dedicated undercover for the Criminal Intelligence Bureau.

Unless they knew the mission would keep them alive, earn them money, and grant them freedom.

Ji Bailou kicked Lin Zheng's shoulder, his voice icy. "You think we’re fools? You want to get into the drug trade and play both sides?"

Lin Zheng fell sideways, sprawling on the floor.

He’d used every trick he had and received no pity. Finally, he snapped, his eyes wide with anger. "Aren’t informants just doing the dirty work you cops can’t do? You pay so little—it’s spent in a flash. Everything’s expensive now; I have to make a living. I have a wife and kids to support! What’s wrong with a little small-time theft to get by? Can’t my good deeds make up for my mistakes?"

Lin Zheng said fiercely, "Which undercover in a drug den doesn’t use or deal? As long as the den gets taken down in the end, does it matter?"

Ji Bailou’s expression darkened completely.

He grabbed Lin Zheng by the hair and smashed his head against the floor. "Is that what your handler taught you? Did Duan Ming tell you that?"

Jian Ruochen froze.

Duan Ming—his photo and name were in that stack of files earlier. He must be a friend of Chen Zudan’s.

A suspect for being a corrupt cop.

Ji Bailou smashed Lin Zheng’s head against the floor again.

His forehead hit the carpet with a dull thud. Lin Zheng gasped, his body convulsing.

Ji Bailou ordered, "Talk."

Jian Ruochen: ...

No wonder everyone said CIB interrogations were violent. If this happened after the handover, Ji Bailou would be called on the carpet for a reprimand.

Jian Ruochen reached out to stop him. "Sir Ji, let me take over the questioning."

If Lin Zheng took a few more hits like that, he probably wouldn’t be able to speak.

Before Ji Bailou could respond, Liu Qishang asked, "Can you handle it?"

Jian Ruochen might be loaded and unnaturally lucky—always running into criminals, a regular Little God of Wealth bringing arrests to Guan Yingjun.

But interrogation?

Could he really compare to the professionals at CIB?

Guan Yingjun walked back to the sofa and sat down. "He's got this."

Though he was speaking to Liu Qishang, his eyes remained fixed on Jian Ruochen.

The room was only lit by one side lamp, shadowy and dark.

But Jian Ruochen stood out, as if catching a sliver of silver moonlight in the pitch darkness.