Chapter 37: Jian Ruochen Has Something Strange About Him

Chapter 37: Jian Ruochen Has a Peculiar Way About Him

Ji Bailou released his grip and stood up, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath, gradually regaining his composure.

He picked up a damp towel from the table and wiped his hands. "To prevent defections, the police system registers all informants one-on-one. Lin Zheng’s handler is Duan Ming, a superintendent in CIB Group Three. He and I have a pretty good relationship."

His tone carried a hint of nostalgia. "The few of us were police academy cadets in the same year."

Ji Bailou stepped aside. "Jian Ruochen, he’s all yours."

Lin Zheng’s mind was muddled, his ears ringing so much he couldn’t even get up.

Jian Ruochen helped him sit against the wall, then turned and reached out to Guan Yingjun. "Got a cigarette, Detective Guan?"

Guan Yingjun pulled one from the cigarette case and tossed it precisely into his arms along with a matchbox.

Jian Ruochen placed the cigarette between Lin Zheng’s lips, struck a match, shielded the flame, and lit it for him.

Lin Zheng, still wincing from the pain, reflexively took a drag.

The cigarette tip glowed.

Jian Ruochen tossed the used match into the ashtray and sat casually on the marble coffee table, quietly watching Lin Zheng smoke about half of it.

Only when the man had fully regained his senses did he pick up the ashtray and set it in front of him, asking, "How’s Detective Guan’s cigarette?"

Lin Zheng silently flicked the ash without saying a word.

Liu Qishang didn’t understand.

He whispered to Ji Bailou, "Brother Ji, what’s the meaning of this?"

Ji Bailou said, "Building rapport, probably? We sometimes do this too. Like when you’re investigating a corrupt official, you take them out for coffee first. A soft approach before the hardline, you know?"

Liu Qishang was stunned. "But Lin Zheng was the one he lured here so you could beat him up. Will he really fall for this?"

Their voices were hushed.

Lin Zheng couldn’t hear them, but he felt the same way.

He sneered, "You tricked me into coming here, let the officers beat me up, then gave me a cigarette and tried to butter me up a little, thinking I’d spill the beans?"

"Since when is anything in the world that easy?"

Jian Ruochen looked surprised. "Why would you think that?"

"I gave you a cigarette because the nicotine in it quickly reaches your brain, numbing your nerves and easing anxiety. The nicotine in tobacco can also help relieve pain, so your head won’t hurt as much."

"You need to calm down before I can question you properly. If there were sedatives here, I’d have given you those instead of a cigarette."

Lin Zheng’s eyes were blank.

Nicotine? Alkaloids?

He had dropped out of school before finishing junior high and didn’t understand any of this.

But thinking back on Jian Ruochen’s words, he realized his head did indeed hurt less than before, and he felt much calmer.

Some kind of buttering up.

So it was just him reading too much into things.

Jian Ruochen stretched his foot out and kicked the loot on the ground. "You stole so much gold jewelry—clearly, you're greedy. Of course, I knew a cigarette wouldn’t cut it for you."

Liu Qishang: "…"

He glanced at Ji Bailou with slight confusion.

A soft approach before the hardline?

Ji Bailou raised a hand and touched his nose.

So he misread the situation?

It didn’t matter—Jian Ruochen hadn’t heard anyway.

The suspect’s publicly reading too much into things was probably more embarrassing than his mistake.

Lin Zheng stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, adjusted his sitting posture, lowered his gaze to the pile of stolen goods not far away, and raced to think of ways to escape.

"What are you thinking?" Jian Ruochen asked abruptly. "Thinking about how to make a run for it?"

Lin Zheng jerked his head up.

How did Jian Ruochen know what he was thinking?

Jian Ruochen said, "After you adjusted your posture, your toes pointed straight at the door. Your body language clearly shows you want to escape."

Liu Qishang, Ji Bailou, and Huang Youquan simultaneously looked at Lin Zheng’s feet.

It really was like that!

Guan Yingjun’s gaze fell on Jian Ruochen’s back. His light-colored hair fell softly, almost covering his entire shoulders and back.

Lin Zheng awkwardly straightened his posture, trying to cover up his intentions.

With his thoughts repeatedly denied and interrupted, his mind was almost blank.

Jian Ruochen didn’t give him time to reorganize his thoughts. "Why are you so sure you can navigate Lu Qian’s drug den? Is there someone who’ll have your back with Lu Qian?"

"Is this person Duan Ming?"

Lin Zheng trembled, cold sweat instantly beading on his forehead. Jian Ruochen’s words carried no personal emotion—they were concise, clear, and cut right to the chase.

Only at this moment did he understand why Ji Bailou had slammed his head into the floor.

There were too many flaws in what he’d said.

Lin Zheng swallowed hard and dug in his heels, retorting, "What does it matter to you who’s protecting me? You should just focus on the benefits I can bring. Why must you dig so deep into this? Can’t we just have a win-win?"

He shouted, "Just tell me—do you want an undercover who can get into the drug den or not!"

Ji Bailou shook his head.

Slippery old hands like Lin Zheng knew all too well what the police needed. They knew how to maximize their own value to wring more benefits out of the police.

Lin Zheng had repeatedly escaped punishment using this very play.

Jian Ruochen was likely to take a fall because of him.

Jian Ruochen chuckled, "How dare you bargain with me?"

"I'm sitting here calmly to give you a chance to make up for your crimes. But how you atone is up to me, not you."

Lin Zheng's expression tightened.

Strange, why wasn’t this person following his rhythm like the others?

Jian Ruochen stood up, looking down at him, "You’re about to be prosecuted for theft—an eight-year sentence is all but guaranteed. But if you turn state's evidence against Duan Ming, Sir Ji will definitely help reduce your sentence."

Lin Zheng clenched his fists, lips pressed together in silence.

Jian Ruochen crouched down to meet his eyes, "You mentioned you have a wife and child to support. How old is your kid?"

At the mention of his family, Lin Zheng’s expression softened, "Not even a year old yet."

Jian Ruochen sighed, "Then I understand why you don’t want to go to prison. Your wife needs you, and your child needs you too."

Thinking he’d got through to him, Lin Zheng relaxed slightly.

Jian Ruochen asked softly, "Do you know what going undercover means? Someone might protect you, but will they protect your wife and child? What kind of reason do people in a drug den have? They kill without blinking."

He patted Lin Zheng’s shoulder, "Think carefully about your wife and child. Aren’t you earning money for them? How is money more important than family?"

Lin Zheng jerked as if he'd been shocked, trembling even more violently than when Ji Bailou had hit him.

His eyes reddened instantly, as if something had struck a nerve.

Huang Youquan, also an informant, understood exactly what Lin Zheng was thinking and piped up, "Those people live by 'brothers are like limbs—women are like clothes.' Someone like you would be a small-time player there—small-time players can’t protect their wives."

He shook his leg, his accessories jingling, "Just work properly with the sir. Later, the police can even help get your kid into a good school, make sure they turn out right."

Jian Ruochen pressed Lin Zheng's weak spot and pushed further, "See, if you testify against Duan Ming, you can reduce your sentence. If you don’t want to serve time at all, then work under Sir Ji. If you really want to be a spy, then be a spy between Sir Ji and Duan Ming—help gather evidence that Duan Ming is a corrupt cop."

"Working both sides between two police officers, you can earn double the money. It’s double either way, but isn't taking it from Sir Ji better than risking your life in a drug den?"

Jian Ruochen said in exasperation, "Look at you, can’t even do basic math."

Lin Zheng was dazed: "…"

*That actually made sense.*

Ji Bailou was stunned.

Jian Ruochen was twisting the logic.

A black horse is a horse, a white horse is a horse.

Therefore, a white horse is a black horse.

Dirty money is still money, clean money is still money.

Double the clean money can protect your wife and child, with added benefits, so clean money is better than dirty money.

Who wouldn't get confused hearing that?

Ji Bailou tried to find flaws in this reasoning from Lin Zheng’s perspective, but the more he thought, the more confused he became.

People naturally seek advantage and avoid harm—it’s human instinct.

Lin Zheng closed his eyes, thought for a moment, hesitated briefly, then finally made a decision.

"...I’ll talk." He swallowed hard, said with difficulty, "A while ago, I met Duan Ming at a food stall. Halfway through eating, I had a stomachache and went to the bathroom…"

"When I came back, I saw Duan Ming talking to Lao Ba, who was under Lu Qian. Lao Ba is easy to recognize—he’s fat. At first, I thought Lao Ba was also one of Duan Ming’s informants, just higher up, so I didn’t pay much attention. I walked over while buckling my belt."

"Then I heard Duan Ming tell Lao Ba to warn Lu Qian to be careful lately, to stop the ferry jobs, because the CID seemed to be investigating."

Jian Ruochen froze.

What?

So Lu Qian knew the CID was investigating the ferry heist back then?

Then why did he send Jiang Mingshan to carry out the second one?

Jian Ruochen got chills.

Lu Qian did it on purpose!

Sending Jiang Mingshan for the second heist was a no-lose situation for him.

If Jiang Mingshan succeeded, the money would be his.

If Jiang Mingshan was caught, his property would go to Jiang Hanyu. The money would still be his!

Jian Ruochen clenched his fingers, pulling himself together.

Lin Zheng coughed lightly, "That’s when I realized—Duan Ming was working for Lu Qian. He wasn't a real cop."

Ji Bailou took a drink of whiskey.

The ice ball in the glass had long melted, and the drink was watered down.

The atmosphere in the back room went tense.

Guan Yingjun spoke up, "Informants do the dirty work for the police. Was that also something Duan Ming taught you?"

Lin Zheng: "He knew I stole and didn’t really care. That saying… all the informants under Duan Ming know it."

Liu Qishang muttered a curse, "He was such an honest person back in school—how did he really become like this!"

Tch. Duan Ming even used Chen Zudan, that loose cannon, as a pawn, running circles around their entire ICAC Group B!

"People change," Ji Bailou poured another drink, "It’s been four years since we graduated."

Jian Ruochen turned and looked at the three officers, "You and Duan Ming were in the same police academy cohort?"

Guan Yingjun: "Yeah."

Jian Ruochen: …You're kidding?

Ji Bailou looked like he was 32, Liu Qishang looked about 30.

Guan Yingjun looked about 28 or 29.

So they were all 26?

Do cops really age that fast?

He touched his face, thinking he should probably be a bit more careful from now on.

Lin Zheng leaned against the wall, struggling to stand straight. "The reason I was so sure I could enter Lu Qian's drug den is because Duan Ming has the connections to keep me safe. Duan Ming didn't betray the police—he and Lu Qian were middle school classmates. They've known each other for a long time and have a good relationship."

He looked directly at Ji Bailou. "Mr. Ji, I'm willing to work with Duan Ming for you and get information on Lu Qian. Can you help protect my wife and child?"

Ji Bailou remained silent for a long moment before glancing at Guan Yingjun.

Guan Yingjun said, "We have a witness protection program. We can arrange for someone to escort your wife and child abroad. CID will provide a recommendation letter—they can choose any country they want. They can return after everything is over. Money isn't an issue; it's just a matter of whether you can bear being separated from your family. Your child is still young."

Lin Zheng clenched his teeth. "Alright. If I die, can my child become a civil servant?"

Jian Ruochen: ...

In Hong Kong, "civil servant" meant a government employee.

He studied Lin Zheng up and down, trying to find some trace of Shandong resilience in him.

Otherwise, he couldn't explain this obsession with having his descendants take the civil service exams.

Ji Bailou rarely found himself at a loss for words. "Even if you don't die, your child can still take the exam. As long as you don’t commit theft or robbery in the future."

Lin Zheng let out a sigh of relief.

In his limited understanding, only by becoming a civil servant could someone from the bottom of society truly make something of themselves.

He said softly, "I'm ready. I'm willing to do it. Let me sign the guarantee."

Liu Qishang: ...

Now he's enthusiastic. Ten minutes ago, he was pinned to the ground and beaten, yet still acting tough.

He leaned closer to Guan Yingjun. "Brother Jun, Jian Ruochen is really something. I want him to come to ICAC to teach anti-pyramid scheme classes."

There was no trace of his earlier skepticism.

Guan Yingjun refused: "He has to go to school. Not right now."

After saying this, he quickly pulled out copies of the lunchbox designs from his pocket and handed them to everyone present. "These are images of all four sides of the aluminum lunchbox leaked from Bar 1892. Lu Qian uses this type of lunchbox to transport drugs. We're currently searching for the factory that manufactures these lunchboxes. Help us out if you can."

There were only three copies, so none reached Lin Zheng. Guan Yingjun took out his handcuff key and unlocked him. "This is your last chance. Keep your hands to yourself."

Though his tone was calm, it sounded like, "If you steal again, I'll cut your hands off."

Lin Zheng: ...

"Understood, Detective Guan."

The embarrassment of stealing handcuffs would probably haunt him forever.

Guan Yingjun put away the handcuffs and glanced at his watch. "I still need to take him to the hospital. Huang Youquan."

Huang Youquan stood up: "Yes, sir!"

"Focus your efforts on finding the lunchbox factory." Guan Yingjun took out a stack of cash. "Your salary from last month."

Salary!

Huang Youquan's eyes lit up. "Yes, sir! I'll get it done!"

Detective Guan was so nice when he paid them.

Huang Youquan flipped through the bills and counted.

Jian Ruochen glanced at the thickness—it was about ten thousand HKD.

Lin Zheng stared wide-eyed.

Jian Ruochen asked him, "How much did Duan Ming give you?"

"Two thousand," Lin Zheng said through gritted teeth.

Jian Ruochen: ...

No wonder he turned back to theft. In the '90s, 2,000 HKD was barely enough to survive. Here, a single plate of roast meat rice cost at least 28 dollars. In a place like Hong Kong, spending money was easier than breathing.

Lin Zheng's child still needed milk. That amount of money couldn't support a family.

He whispered, "See, the job I set up for you is pretty good, right? Mr. Ji will definitely pay you just like Detective Guan."

"Thank you," Lin Zheng said, feeling a strange sensation.

Why was he thanking them after being handcuffed by Jian Ruochen, beaten, and pinned down?

Liu Qishang: ...

He even has to thank us.

Jian Ruochen really gives off a weird vibe.

Tonight felt like a dream.

They came to discuss corrupt police, not expecting to find anyone immediately, but now they even had a witness.

It was completely dramatic.

Without this witness, he would never have believed that the corrupt officer was Duan Ming, their fellow police academy graduate.

Liu Qishang looked at Jian Ruochen: "Why do you need to go to the hospital?"

"For a check-up. His eyes are a bit sensitive to light." Guan Yingjun’s expression darkened.

Ji Bailou: ...

This guy really has a soft spot for him.

Back when they were studying, he once had a high fever and nearly passed out in the dorm.

Guan Yingjun poured some liquor into a cup, added honey and lemon, and told him to drink it, saying it would cure his cold.

He thought Guan Yingjun didn’t know there were private hospitals open at night in Hong Kong.

Turns out he did—he just couldn't be bothered to take him.

Jian Ruochen said to Lin Zheng, "See? Working for the boss even comes with a medical check-up included. Not quite a civil servant, but close enough."

Guan Yingjun: ...

He hung the down jacket over Jian Ruochen's head, "Let's go."

Stop messing around, Lin Zheng is about to be completely fooled.

Jian Ruochen casually waved to the officers in the private room who had just received their new assignments, "Bye."

Liu Qishang looked dazedly at the lunchbox photo in his hand, "How did Guan Yingjun get this?"

Ji Bailou shot him a look, thinking: Hey, you don’t know, do you? I know the inside scoop. Too bad there’s an informant here, can’t spill it. Oh, Liu Qishang, you’ll just be left clueless.

Over in the private room, they were still discussing how to find the lunchbox’s original manufacturer.

Meanwhile, Jian Ruochen was taken to the private hospital.

Guan Yingjun registered and paid, his wallet clearly a lot thinner.

Jian Ruochen: … No wonder he’s broke every month. Detective Guan is really generous.

Eye examination machines, whether fully or semi-automatic, give results fast.

The elderly doctor reviewing the report said, "20/20 vision, no nearsightedness or astigmatism. Everything’s normal. That’s good. The sensitivity to light might be because you’ve been reading too much lately, and your iris has relatively low pigmentation. The combination has made you light-sensitive again."

"Amber eyes—pretty, but it comes with a downside. It’s genetic. Some light blue eyes are also sensitive to light."

Jian Ruochen suddenly had a bad feeling.

The doctor said, "You’ve used eye drops to relieve this symptom before, right? Why didn’t you get more after finishing them?"

Guan Yingjun stood behind Jian Ruochen, his eyes downcast.

That stare felt almost tangible.

Jian Ruochen’s spine went numb, and sweat soaked through his shirt. He instinctively wanted to turn and check Guan Yingjun’s expression but managed to hold back, only tilting his head slightly.

Don’t look up. Looking up now would clearly show guilt.

Don’t do anything stupid.

He raised a hand and scratched his cheek awkwardly, said in a rush, "I don’t like using eye drops."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jian Ruochen’s heart sank.

Crap. This statement contradicts what he said in Guan Yingjun’s car earlier: "I don’t know what’s wrong with my eyes; I need to get it checked at the hospital."