Chapter 52: Want to Get a Gun?

Chapter 52: Want a Gun?

The butler, speaking in a fluent, almost theatrical tone, politely asked, "Would you like to wait in the living room for the young master to wake up?"

Guan Yingjun stepped into the foyer, his eyes met with a floor littered with shopping bags and opened packaging.

The butler smiled faintly, casually extending his wrist to reveal a gold watch. "Apologies for the disorder. These are all gifts the young master got us yesterday. Everyone was so excited to unwrap them that we haven’t had time to tidy up yet."

A square gold dial, a black crocodile leather strap, and jade-inlaid hour markers.

Understated from a distance, luxurious up close.

One of these watches cost four months of a Senior Inspector’s salary in Hong Kong. Judging by the scattered packaging on the floor, Jian Ruochen had bought at least eight of them at once.

Guan Yingjun looked away and casually placed the flowers he’d brought on the entryway cabinet, neatly beside the vase.

The vase still held the bouquet from yesterday.

Guan Yingjun rested his hand beside the cluster of white and pink blossoms, his thumb brushing against one of the drooping flowers. Then he slipped off his shoes and followed the butler to the living room.

He waited a full six hours.

Jian Ruochen slept until 11 a.m., waking up refreshed and energized.

This past week:

He’d caught the informant for the corrupt cops and uncovered their missteps.

He’d captured a serial killer.

He’d helped the West Kowloon division seize Lu Qian’s drug stash.

And he’d arrested over sixty underlings!

Just thinking about it lifted his spirits.

"La~~ la-la~~" Jian Ruochen hummed an off-key tune as he washed up and changed into the clothes Luo Binwen had laid out. "Butler Luo, what’s on the schedule today?"

Luo Binwen hesitated, then finally offered a faint smile. "You have one specialized course this afternoon and one humanities elective. There’s a half-hour break between them. Classes start at 2:30 and end at 6."

Jian Ruochen exclaimed cheerfully, "What a light schedule!"

Back when he attended the Criminal Police College in his previous life, he had to start running drills at 6 a.m., and that was considered manageable. Even earlier, when he lived in the compound, he’d be woken at 5:30 by training calls outside and then dragged out to exercise.

Oh, exercise…

Hadn’t he made plans with Detective Guan?

Jian Ruochen’s gaze shifted slightly. "Did I have any visitors this morning?"

He’d forgotten.

Luo Binwen’s smile faded. "I heard Mr. Guan arrived at 5 a.m."

What time?

Jian Ruochen tilted his head doubtfully.

Luo Binwen said, "You heard correctly. He’s currently waiting in the living room for you to wake up."

Jian Ruochen paused. "Doesn’t he have work?"

Luo Binwen picked up a comb and began tying his hair. "The Hong Kong Police Force operates on three shifts: 7 a.m. to 3 p.m., 3 p.m. to 11 p.m., and 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. He might have chosen the afternoon shift?"

Jian Ruochen: …

"Probably not. He works from 7 a.m. to 11 p.m. every day. Pulling double shifts."

Luo Binwen thought to himself: Hong Kong police really have it tough—hard work without much pay.

The government claims high salaries to prevent corruption, but they’re not that high.

He finished Jian Ruochen’s braided low ponytail with a ribbon and said contentedly, "Perfect."

Jian Ruochen grinned. "Uncle Luo, your skills are always top-notch. Without you, I’d probably be running around with my hair all over the place."

Luo Binwen chuckled and followed Jian Ruochen downstairs.

Jian Ruochen looked at the lavish brunch spread on the table and turned to Luo Binwen. "Invite Detective Guan to join us."

After all, he’d waited all morning.

He thought back to what had happened in the Major Case Team A office yesterday but felt none of the earlier feverish intensity.

From a psychological perspective, darkness aids the secretion of oxytocin and dopamine.

During the day, the brain’s frontal cortex system is active, and rational thinking peaks. At night, hormone levels rise, and emotion overrides reason.

Impulsive feelings intensify.

That was why he’d been so curious.

That was why Guan Yingjun had revealed such turbulent, overwhelming emotion in the dark, nearly crossing a line.

Jian Ruochen pressed his lips together. Ultimately, what connected him and Guan Yingjun was mutual benefit and catching criminals.

Being good partners was enough—too close or too distant wouldn’t be ideal.

But he didn’t regret digging into the hidden emotions Guan Yingjun had concealed.

It was just his nature.

No one could change that.

Jian Ruochen waited until Guan Yingjun had taken a seat to his right before raising his flower-tea-filled cup in greeting. "Detective Guan, good afternoon."

Guan Yingjun nodded. "Good afternoon."

Jian Ruochen’s eyes curved slightly. "I saw the flowers you brought when I came downstairs."

Guan Yingjun hummed in acknowledgment, clenching his fingers slightly.

When buying the flowers, he’d specifically asked the florist to choose these two types.

Compared to the first bouquet, meant as an apology, this one carried a hidden message.

"That's very thoughtful of you."

Jian Ruochen said calmly, "I accept your apology, but this is the last time. There's no 'three strikes' here."

Guan Yingjun's fingers tightened around the silver fork.

A soft sound of breathing stirred in the air.

Jian Ruochen's gaze swept over his fingers. "As for the flowers... no need to spend so much on me in the future."

Though wearing soft slippers, Guan Yingjun felt the floor tiles cold beneath his feet.

The same person who had sat on his lap and touched his neck last night now seemed so distant.

It was as if they had just met, or even more distant than when they first knew each other.

Guan Yingjun's heart sank.

Jian Ruochen continued, "About the exercise..."

Guan Yingjun interrupted, "My bad for not coordinating the timing with you."

His gaze fell on Jian Ruochen's eyes, then shifted away, trailing down. "How about nine AM next time?"

Silence spread between them.

Guan Yingjun's eyes lingered on the dark green ribbon tied at the end of Jian Ruochen's hair, falling over his shoulder.

Jian Ruochen thought for a moment. "Alright."

As a police officer, staying in shape is key. There would be physical tests after joining the team, and he couldn’t keep slacking off. Having someone strict to supervise him was good.

Guan Yingjun wouldn’t mix personal matters with duty—he was the best choice.

Jian Ruochen reached out and placed a plate of grilled mushrooms in front of Guan Yingjun. "Try this. Without dipping sauce, it’s lighter and more to your taste. It’s not really my thing."

Guan Yingjun cut into a mushroom, and hot juice spilled out, fragrant and steaming. But when he tasted it, it was sour and bitter.

Not the bitterness of the mushroom, but a bitterness from his own mouth.

Jian Ruochen was politely putting distance between them.

For a while, the only sound in the living room was the clinking of cutlery against ceramic plates.

Guan Yingjun finished the plate of grilled mushrooms and said hoarsely, "Chen Ba has been convicted."

Chen Ba—the fat man who sold roast meat rice made from human flesh.

Jian Ruochen: "Hm? Did you figure out his connection to Lu Qian?"

"Yes." Guan Yingjun moved the empty plate aside. "Duan Ming's informant, Lin Zheng—the thief you caught at Dragon Court Bar—came to identify Chen Ba."

Lin Zheng had once seen Chen Ba and Duan Ming meeting at a food stall.

Jian Ruochen stood up to reach the French toast placed near Guan Yingjun's side. The table was wide and large, making it a bit out of reach.

He stretched his arm. "Did forensics finish the report? How many victims were there? What about their identities? Have the families been notified?"

He didn’t ask Guan Yingjun for help, leaning forward until his fingertips finally brushed the edge of the plate.

Guan Yingjun's leg was pressed against the table. As Jian Ruochen leaned in, his knee bumped against a warm thigh.

He immediately pulled back and shifted away.

Guan Yingjun's mouth tightened.

Was this his way of keeping distance?

His mouth slightly pursed, he reached out and slid the French toast to Jian Ruochen.

Jian Ruochen whispered, "Thank you."

He cut a piece and placed it on Guan Yingjun's plate. "Thanks."

Keeping things clear.

Guan Yingjun stared at the golden piece of French toast. Though he believed polite gestures were unnecessary, he was acutely sensitive to others' emotions.

Jian Ruochen's cold signals were too obvious.

Guan Yingjun said, "About yesterday... I'm sorry."

Jian Ruochen made a questioning sound, recalling the heated kisses Guan Yingjun had pressed into his palm.

He looked quietly at Guan Yingjun. "It's fine. Just a hormone thing. I’ll pretend it never happened."

Guan Yingjun blinked, his voice tight. "Not that... I shouldn’t have asked if you still liked Lu Qian."

Jian Ruochen realized. "Oh... that. No, I didn’t. I never liked him."

Guan Yingjun thought of what Li Zhangyu had suggested and suddenly understood.

The Jian Ruochen who had liked Lu Qian wasn’t the one in front of him now.

The knot in his chest loosened slightly, but the awkward tension lingered.

Guan Yingjun changed the subject. "There’s one more thing... Remember that taxi driver who tried to kill you?"

Jian Ruochen paused. "The one hired by Lu Qian at Chen Hetang?"

"Yes. The police have prosecuted him. The court hearing is this afternoon—most likely, he’ll get the death penalty. Unfortunately, though everyone knows Lu Qian ordered the killing, we can’t connect him to the case. He covered his tracks too well."

Jian Ruochen nodded. "No rush. Lu Qian has lost so many shipments—he might make a desperate move. He’s cautious, but his greed is too strong."

He took little bites of the French toast, muttering, "When will Jiang Mingshan's execution be carried out? If we wait any longer..."

The death penalty might be abolished!

Jiang Mingshan's case had such a negative social impact—would the court really hesitate to execute him?

Guan Yingjun said, "It’s soon. I’ve pushed for it. The court is processing it. The announcement is set for late January—just over ten days away."

Jian Ruochen hummed twice.

His next bite was taro-filled French toast—sweet, like a hidden reward after completing a dozen tasks.

It was pure bliss.

Jian Ruochen slightly narrowed his eyes. "I have school this afternoon, so maybe we can skip today’s workout?"

"I can take you to practice shooting," Guan Yingjun interjected, not letting him finish.

Jian Ruochen: …Huh?

Guan Yingjun said, "The shooting range at the station will be open from noon through the afternoon. I can get you in."

Jian Ruochen was tempted, but he had money—he could always go practice at a commercial range if he wanted.

Guan Yingjun added, "Commercial ranges have recoil modified due to regulations, so it's different from the recoil of police-issued firearms. Plus, at the station, you can use all the ammo you want."

He had noticed early on that Jian Ruochen, like any guy, couldn't resist the allure of guns.

Yesterday... even though Jian Ruochen was the one who started pressing and provoking him, he’d been the one to leave that opening.

After all, he was the one who pulled him down onto his lap.

Guan Yingjun didn’t like owing people; he needed to make it up to him again.

He needed to make it up to him once more...

He said softly, "If you practice shooting and make the grade, I’ll take you to apply for the station’s firearm license and access badge today."

Jian Ruochen’s eyes widened slightly.

Guan Yingjun continued, "I can apply for a police-issued firearm for you. Do you want it?"

Jian Ruochen: Yes, yes!

He hadn’t even gotten his own issued firearm in his past life—could he get one early this time?

Jian Ruochen’s voice lifted: "Can West Kowloon Police Station issue firearms to external personnel?"

Guan Yingjun gave a confirming ‘Mhm’. "There’s no precedent, but I can persuade my superiors to make an exception in your case. You’re different, after all."

Jian Ruochen’s breath caught, his throat working.

Detective Guan... why had he been praising him so much lately?

Guan Yingjun said, "In such a short time, you’ve brought unprecedented results to West Kowloon. The achievements here aren’t like those in business—they’re hard, measurable achievements."

"You’re my consultant." Guan Yingjun paused, then corrected himself with difficulty, "You’re the consultant for the West Kowloon Major Crimes Unit. I won’t let them slight you. If my superiors block the application, I’ll take it over their heads and vouch for you."

"When you shoot, it’s like I’m shooting."

Jian Ruochen looked up at Guan Yingjun.

Guan Yingjun was silent for a long moment before suddenly murmuring, "I regret it. I regret bringing you to the Dashangtuo Quarry, regret investigating you, regret yesterday... to the point that you now even want to draw a line between us, don’t even want the flowers."

Jian Ruochen never expected Guan Yingjun to just come out and say it.

This man had a way of being direct, head-on, and unpredictable, breaking all the usual rules.

With his plain-spoken way, he perfectly dodged all of Jian Ruochen’s calculated defenses.

Guan Yingjun raised his hand, wanting to take Jian Ruochen’s hand, but restrained himself and pulled back just before touching them. "Sorry."

After saying that, he stood up. "Take your time finishing up. I’ll be outside."

Guan Yingjun paused again and added, "Lu Qian might be up to something new. I’ll fill you in on the details while we drive."

Lu Qian’s recent shipment was worth 600 million euros—all the goods he’d produced during this period.

Jian Ruochen had actually cut off Lu Qian’s lifeline in one move.

Smart and capable, good-looking and likeable, cunning yet never oversteps.

Someone with such restraint, yet he’d sat on him, touched his Adam’s apple.

If Jian Ruochen wasn’t toying with him... then was there really no affection there at all?