Chapter 50: You Like Me, Don’t You?

Chapter 50: You Like Me, Don’t You?

The Narcotics Bureau team at the West Kowloon Regional Police Headquarters was, for the first time, struck by the moniker "God of Wealth."

The Senior Inspector from the Narcotics Bureau sidled up to Ji Bailou, his gaze, however, fixed on Jian Ruochen with an eager, almost covetous expression. "Is this the 'Little God of Wealth' who’s been making such waves in your unit recently?"

Someone who could casually invest 200 million, and whose idea of an ordinary afternoon tea involved the highest-end coffee and pastries.

During an investigation, he’d simply wave his hand and give 500 dollars to an old man selling cakes.

If this person were in their Narcotics Bureau, the Senior Inspector couldn't even imagine how vibrant and dynamic their team would become.

Rubbing his hands together, the Senior Inspector nudged Ji Bailou. "Since he’s only an external consultant now, why don’t you persuade Jian Ruochen to join our side after he graduates?"

Ji Bailou retorted, "You think I don’t want to?"

He gestured with his chin towards Guan Yingjun. "Dropping a few hints and letting Jian Ruochen choose on his own is one thing, but if I actually try to poach him, Guan Sir and I would no longer be brothers."

On the TV in the Major Crimes Unit’s break room, an expert was still showcasing a new product.

Jian Ruochen leaned against the wall, holding a cup of instant fruit punch, his gaze directed at the screen.

The first-generation laptop wasn’t exactly portable—when closed, it resembled a briefcase-sized safe. But once opened, it featured a complete screen and keyboard, and from its appearance, it already bore the rudimentary form of future laptops.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice Guan Yingjun approaching.

Guan Yingjun knew full well that Jian Ruochen possessed subtle, undetectable methods of winning people over, but he still walked up to him. "I…"

Jian Ruochen turned his head, his eyebrows arching slightly. "Hmm?"

Guan Yingjun abruptly averted his gaze, feeling as though those two arched brows had transformed into delicate hooks, pricking at his chest.

Jian Ruochen’s lips curved into a faint smile, his tone lazy and drawn out. "Were you going to ask why I praised you? I said it’s strictly professional, and I won’t take credit for your work. Without your map, we would have wandered for a long time before finding the hidden annex. This time, it truly was thanks to you."

Guan Yingjun felt as if those delicate hooks were tugging at his heart, pulling it in two directions, leaving it aching and swollen.

He quickly changed the subject. "Shall I pick you up for a workout tomorrow morning?"

Gyms were just beginning to gain popularity in Hong Kong.

The first one opened in 1990, and within a year, they had proliferated.

Now, high-end residential areas featured fitness facilities, and some trendy upscale apartments even marketed on-site gyms as a selling point to attract white-collar buyers.

However, Lijin International was an older development, a villa complex nestled in the mountains, far from the bustling city, and thus lacked such amenities. The nearest gym required a drive.

Luo Binwen was getting on in years and had been particularly busy lately, so he definitely couldn't take him in the morning.

Jian Ruochen, reluctant at the thought of having to wake up early again, let out an unenthusiastic "Oh..." "Alright..."

Everyone rested in the Major Crimes Unit’s break room for a while, sipping the station’s special blend coffee, chatting and laughing about recent events. Only after their subordinates had processed the suspects did they collectively sigh, tossing their empty paper cups into the trash with a resigned air.

"Alright! Back to work."

"Over 60 people… how long will the questioning take?"

Many glances drifted towards Jian Ruochen.

How enviable. If only they possessed Jian Ruochen’s interviewing skills.

Handsome and efficient.

If Jian Ruochen could help…

Lin Yazhi noticed their gazes and immediately stepped in front of Jian Ruochen, waving her hand at the officers from other departments. "What are you looking at? He’s only 19, he has school tomorrow, and he needs to go home early to sleep!"

"If you rely on him for everything, what did West Kowloon hire you for? Get to work, get to work!"

The Narcotics Bureau’s Senior Inspector, a burly man standing 185 cm tall, clasped his hands over his heart. "Wow, Madam Lin, you’re so heartless!"

Lin Yazhi stomped her stiletto on the tiled floor. "I can be even more ruthless. Want to find out?"

The officers from other departments immediately swarmed the elevator, and those who couldn’t fit took the stairs, quickly fleeing the Major Crimes Unit’s territory.

Jian Ruochen peeked out from behind Lin Yazhi, utterly awestruck.

Superintendent Lin possessed such authority.

Once the other departments had cleared out, the core team of the West Kowloon Major Crimes Unit finally entered the break room.

Bi Wanwan and her team had already identified the patrol officer who leaked the news of Lao Ba’s arrest and mapped out their internal police network, ready to report to their superiors.

These young patrol officers, fresh out of school—some hadn’t even attended the police academy—were poorly paid and at an age where they were easily swayed.

A little money from journalists or criminals, and they’d readily leak information.

Moreover, many believed that minor details, like who got arrested, were inconsequential and wouldn’t be investigated if leaked. They often exploited their positions to earn extra cash.

They weren't deep-cover agents, merely informants for journalists within the police force.

Guan Yingjun flipped through the files of the two on-duty patrol officers and the police social network analysis compiled by Bi Wanwan after a day’s work, his voice cold. "Demote the first one."

"You saw your colleague taking photos and did nothing to stop it. You’re demoted to patrol officer at a branch station. Your team leader is the patrol division chief—go tell him his promotion is canceled."

"And you—you took photos and leaked arrest information. You’re terminated, permanently blacklisted from future service."

Jian Ruochen was taken aback, turning to look at Guan Yingjun.

So severe.

Even in his past life, such mistakes usually led to administrative leave pending review. The motive for selling to journalists differed from selling directly to criminals, so the offenses weren’t the same.

The former was for quick cash, a lapse in judgment.

The latter were agents actively colluding with criminals.

He hadn’t expected Guan Yingjun to treat them as equally culpable.

Jian Ruochen looked at Guan Yingjun’s expressionless, almost iron-faced impartiality, and suddenly recalled him sitting in the car, gripping the steering wheel, slowly lowering his head.

Back then, his vulnerabilities were so obvious, yet Guan Sir, with his notorious suspicion, hadn’t kicked him out of the police force…

Twenty-four hours later.

Jian Ruochen suddenly realized what Guan Yingjun had been holding back then.

He was resisting compassion.

And he hadn’t been able to hold back.

Jian Ruochen licked his lips, his heart beating faster without him realizing.

At that moment, five years of psychological knowledge converged into a sharp intuition…

Guan Yingjun really liked him.

Men react to pretty faces—it’s a base instinct, hardwired by genetics.

Guan Yingjun reacting to him might be because he liked men, a primal instinct at play.

Desire doesn’t necessarily equate to affection.

So even after testing it out, he hadn’t given it much thought.

Guan Yingjun could admit his mistakes to him, send apology letters, and give flowers to please him—all of which could also be explained as needing a consultant, and since he was the only one available, he had no choice but to swallow his pride.

So after seeing it, he just found it amusing and didn’t think much of it.

But Guan Yingjun, a detective returned from undercover, faced someone suspected of being a mole yet forcefully held back from going easy. He neither took him back to the station nor directly dismissed him as a consultant.

Instead, he took him to meet his godfather, a top psychologist.

From a psychological perspective,

Guan Yingjun avoided concrete clues, relying on someone else’s vague judgment. What he truly wanted to know was never "whether Jian Ruochen had issues." He wanted the answer: "Jian Ruochen definitely has no issues."

He was desperate for that answer from the most authoritative figure in his life.

This longing, perhaps even Guan Yingjun himself hadn’t noticed.

Jian Ruochen swallowed, sitting on the small sofa that had somehow appeared in the Major Case Team A office, looking at Guan Yingjun behind the L-shaped desk.

Late January, Hong Kong, the tail end of winter and the beginning of spring.

Everyone had started shedding layers, taking off heavy coats and wearing thinner shirts and lightweight pants.

Guan Yingjun was no exception. He had long since taken off his vest, revealing the white shirt underneath. Leaning back in his swivel chair, his expression was solemn.

The patrol officer who had sold the information, upon hearing he was being fired, was stunned for a second before immediately breaking down, crying and apologizing. "I didn’t know that reporter was connected to Lu Qian. I really won’t do it again. I’m willing to take a suspension for reflection, Guan Sir… please give me another chance."

Guan Yingjun reached out and tossed the file in front of the man. "Headquarters doesn’t keep screw-ups."

He was ice-cold, his gaze sweeping over the patrol officer’s face. "What kind of cases does West Kowloon handle? Keeping you here would put others at risk."

Duan Ming was an exception—who would have thought that a shy old classmate from ten years ago was actually a mole planted by Lu Qian?

Jian Ruochen’s breath caught.

When Guan Yingjun reached out to throw the file, his neatly ironed shirt tightened slightly, outlining the lines of his shoulders, chest, and arms. Muscles were hidden beneath his skin, looking toned and solid.

Jian Ruochen thought of the scene when Guan Yingjun pulled Yao Yingzhe back from the balcony edge.

He pursed his lips and licked them again.

The young man’s stare felt heavy. Guan Yingjun’s eyes shifted slightly, only to see that Jian Ruochen had already looked away and was looking up at the light.

Jian Ruochen narrowed his eyes, suddenly feeling like the light seemed different.

It wasn’t glaring anymore.

He suddenly spoke up, "Guan Sir, did you change the light?"

Guan Yingjun was surprised, feeling a slight sweat on his neck. He reached up and touched it, muttering, "Mm."

Not Guan Yingjun, not Inspector Guan.

It was Guan Sir.

Jian Ruochen’s eyes crinkled as he leaned back into the small sofa in front of the coffee table and laughed. "Thank you, Guan Sir. You’re looking out for me? Looks like I’ll have to stay in Team A tonight. Until my eyes get better, I can’t go anywhere."

Police station lights aren’t something you can just change on a whim—you have to file a request, call to investigate the manufacturer, do a background check on the supplier.

Guan Yingjun wasn’t one to bother people for personal matters.

Yet he had done all of this alone in just one morning.

Jian Ruochen was a smooth-talker when he was happy. He glanced up at the light overhead but still gave Guan Yingjun an excuse. "Inspector Guan, after our workout tomorrow, buy me breakfast?"

Guan Yingjun’s throat moved, and even a bit of sweat appeared at his temples.

The sobbing patrol officer had already been taken away. Today, the Major Crimes Unit had achieved results and wasn’t in a rush to work overtime. The rest of Team A had already happily headed out to go home for dinner.

The entire office was just the two of them left.

Jian Ruochen looked around, then suddenly stood up and walked over to Guan Yingjun.

Leaning on the desk, he bent down to look into Guan Yingjun’s eyes.

On the desk lay the file Guan Sir had thrown down earlier in his anger.

It was a blue glossy plastic folder. With a firm press, it immediately slipped out of place. Jian Ruochen suddenly lost his balance, his hand shooting out to catch himself—and landing on Guan Yingjun’s thigh.

Guan Yingjun reached out, slipping an arm around his waist to steady him.

Jian Ruochen’s fingers flexed. He initially meant to pull his hand back, but then he remembered what psychology had told him and suddenly didn’t want to withdraw.

He wanted a more concrete answer.

He wanted an admission, spoken plainly from Guan Sir’s mouth.

Why do humans have curiosity?

Questions linger in the mind, driving him crazy.

Jian Ruochen’s fingers tightened slightly, immediately feeling the muscle beneath his fingertips tense up, rock-hard.

The new light was soft, almost like sunlight shining indoors—easy on the eyes, yet clear.

So clear that Jian Ruochen could see a drop of sweat roll down from Guan Yingjun’s temple, hanging at the tip of his chin, forming a droplet.

And it wasn’t even February yet…

Jian Ruochen reached out, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

The man’s jaw tightened instantly, his teeth clenched, letting out a strained whisper from his throat. "Jian Ruochen."

"Yeah?" Jian Ruochen blinked, feeling his arm getting a bit sore, so he adjusted his position a little.

Guan Yingjun sucked in a sharp breath.

He reached out, gathering both of Jian Ruochen's hands together and holding them with one hand, his voice low and hoarse, "Jian Ruochen, stop this…"

Stop what?

It was just wiping away sweat, just resting a hand on his leg.

Was Jian Ruochen testing him?

Or toying with him?

Guan Yingjun's jaw clenched, he swallowed, the tip of his Adam's apple sliding up and down beneath the skin of his neck.

Jian Ruochen watched, his fingertips curling from the heat of Guan Yingjun's palm. His mind felt muddled, as if drowned in sweet tea, "You like men, right?"

A faint late-winter breeze drifted through the open window of the West Kowloon office, rustling the scattered case files of Team A.

Guan Yingjun abruptly released Jian Ruochen's hands.

Jian Ruochen was stunned, immediately losing his balance, his whole body lurching forward, half his body landing against the man's chest.

*Buzz.*

The newly replaced fluorescent tube in Team A suddenly flickered and went out.

In the dark office, in the narrow gap between the office chair and the desk, Jian Ruochen, breathing in Guan Yingjun's scent, his words came out with raw urgency.

Somehow, he desperately wanted a "yes" or "no" answer.

Jian Ruochen parted his lips, but before he could speak, he heard Guan Yingjun's heartbeat—pounding hard and fast.

Suddenly, a hand wrapped around the small of his back, pulling him forward.

Jian Ruochen wasn't quick enough to avoid it; his legs bent, and he found himself straddling Guan Yingjun's lap.

He regretted it again.

Maybe he shouldn't have asked.

Some things should go unsaid.

Guan Yingjun lowered his head in the darkness and murmured, "Mm."

Deep and husky.

Jian Ruochen's back prickled with sweat.

He pushed against Guan Yingjun's shoulders, trying to stand, but the arm around his waist was tight as a vice.

Holding him immobile.

Gathering his nerve, Jian Ruochen opened his mouth and asked again, "Is it me you like?"

The moment he asked, he regretted it, wanted to grab Guan Yingjun's ears and shout: You didn't hear that!

Shit, why'd I have to ask?

What if Guan Yingjun was just turned on and didn't actually like him? How would he handle that?

He was too impulsive.

So hot.

Jian Ruochen wiped his burning cheek with the back of his hand, feeling every pore oozing sweat.

He was both regretful and curious about what Guan Yingjun would say.

Guan Yingjun's breathing suddenly hitched for a moment.

So... was Jian Ruochen testing him, or calling him out?

If he said yes and ended up angering him, how would he face him after?

The darkness fed his panic.

·

Meanwhile, inside River Pavilion Estate, Lu Qian stood before Jiang Hanyu.

Only one lamp lit the living room, casting eerie shadows across their faces.

Lu Qian looked at Jiang Hanyu's bloodshot eyes and asked softly, "The eight hundred million you gave me—did you trade it for a company that could bring in eight billion daily in the future?"

He didn't understand: "How could you be so…"

Reckless?

Selling to anyone else would be bad enough.

But now of all times?

But of course the buyer had to be Jian Ruochen.