Chapter 55: Super Doubled

Luo Binwen smiled, "Of course, but the gold bars and gold certificates issued by Hong Kong Bank are rather plain. If you truly love gold, you might consider shopping at a jewelry store."

Jian Ruochen: …

He made it sound as casual as buying cabbage at a market.

He turned back to the dining table, "No need, I don't really want gold jewelry. I just want to buy some to hoard and sell when the price goes up. With so much cash, I have to spend some of it, right? I'll even get a set for Uncle Luo to collect."

Luo Binwen was filled with mixed emotions. Thankfully, Jian Ruochen hadn’t resolutely refused his inheritance for the sake of a man; otherwise, how could he be so carefree and happy now?

Luo Binwen lifted the lid of his pocket watch and checked the time.

Seven in the evening.

"Tomorrow, I’ll accompany—"

"No need, I can go by myself," Jian Ruochen interrupted. "You focus on your work and try to get some time off during the New Year. It’s just replacing a bank card—I can handle it alone. It’s been a long time since you celebrated the New Year, hasn’t it?"

Luo Binwen thought for a moment before replying, "Yes."

Although he had an Eastern face, he was thoroughly British at heart, and the British only celebrated Christmas.

When he first came to Hong Kong with the young lady, it was his first time experiencing the Spring Festival.

Over 20 years had passed in the blink of an eye.

Luo Binwen looked at Jian Ruochen, a smile unconsciously curling at the corners of his lips. "Alright, as you wish."

Jian Ruochen: "When you’re on break, let’s put up Spring Festival couplets together."

Luo Binwen was slightly taken aback, his heart gently touched.

The young master treated others with sincere warmth.

Putting up Spring Festival couplets together…

It almost felt as if they were already family.

Jian Ruochen waved to Butler Luo.

Then he turned and went upstairs to freshen up.

The mental tension that had built up from his studies and the case suddenly relaxed.

Jian Ruochen slept straight through until nine the next morning.

After breakfast, he threw on a hoodie, wandered out of Lijin International, and hailed a taxi to Hong Kong Bank.

With the New Year approaching, the rolling shutters of shops along the street were adorned with auspicious messages, creating a vibrant and lively atmosphere at a glance.

Hong Kong Bank was also packed with people coming to make deposits.

Elderly men and women, along with working professionals, crowded together in line.

They wore the most popular Hong Kong-style shirts and floral cotton blouses of the '90s, chatting animatedly while waiting to deposit money—strangers who could talk with great enthusiasm.

"Pretty lady, which shop is that milk tea from? It smells amazing."

"Fook Kee Ice House—it’s super sweet."

"Ah, that one! I know it. Cheap and delicious. But the pearls are too big—always hard to suck up."

Jian Ruochen quietly noted down the milk tea shops mentioned in the conversation and squeezed through the crowd toward the interior.

The manager maintaining order nearby was already smiling, but upon seeing Jian Ruochen, his smile grew even more sincere. "Mr. Jian, how may I assist you?"

Jian Ruochen paused mid-step and raised a hand to touch the side of his face.

The manager quickly explained, "You’re a VIP client—we’ve seen your photo and details, so we won’t mistake you."

A woman in a professional pencil skirt gave a slight bow to gesture, "Please, this way."

Remembering Luo Binwen’s warning, Jian Ruochen glanced up warily: "I’m just here to replace my bank card. I can queue at the counter."

The manager said, "You’re a VIP client—we have dedicated staff to handle your request. No need to queue."

Jian Ruochen once again tasted the privilege.

It felt amazing.

This was, in a way, a kind of "military and police priority."

He sat on the sofa and pulled out the battered, twisted bank card.

When Chen Ba had locked him in the bathroom last time, he’d used this card to pry open the door. If he hadn’t had a tool to force the door open at the time, he might not have remained so calm.

It was a pity that damaged cards had to be destroyed—they couldn’t be kept as mementos.

The manager efficiently helped with the reissuance.

A saying was popular in Hong Kong’s wealthy circles: "Do you know how much I make per minute?"

Efficiency was the top priority when serving these people.

Speed was the best service attitude.

Ten minutes later, a brand-new black-and-gold bank card was presented to him with both hands.

Jian Ruochen took it and hesitated for a moment between gold certificates and gold bars. "What’s the current gold price?"

By 2030, gold had risen to over 800.

How cheap could gold be in 1993, even at its cheapest?

The manager was stunned, then overjoyed.

Most people in Hong Kong preferred buying finished gold jewelry from gold shops rather than purchasing gold bars as financial products or gold certificates with higher collectible value than investment value.

Hong Kong Bank’s stock of gold bars and gold certificates was practically unsellable!

Normally, it wouldn’t matter much if gold couldn’t be sold—after all, "money is inherently gold and silver," and it wouldn’t depreciate much.

But currently, there were rumors that Wall Street was planning to short gold, transferring their financial risks to Hong Kong and the mainland. Those financial giants had never failed when they made a move.

The price of gold is bound to plummet in the future!

The branch has been struggling to offload its excess gold inventory!

The manager looked at Jian Ruochen with an intense, eager gaze.

A savior Bodhisattva, a God of Wealth bestowing fortune.

Could it be that at the start of the new year, she was about to close a major deal and resolve the branch’s crisis of excess gold inventory?

The manager was eager to sell, preferably closing the deal immediately.

But once sold, Jian Ruochen might face losses.

Her conscience wrestled with her, but in the end, she gritted her teeth and said, "Today’s gold price is 95 yuan per gram, but I don’t recommend investing in gold at this time. The price has been unstable lately and could drop back to 60 yuan."

"A plummeting gold price is often a sign of global financial instability, and there might be a financial crisis. It could take decades for it to recover."

Jian Ruochen stated flatly, "It won’t."

As far as he could remember, the price of gold had always risen in a cyclical, wave-like pattern.

At most, there were minor fluctuations.

He paused, "I want 20 kilograms."

Manager: ?

How much?

Jian Ruochen dipped his head slightly, "Any more and I won’t be able to carry it. If you can provide a car for delivery… 200 kilograms would be fine too."

At 95 yuan per gram, one kilogram is only 95,000 yuan, so 20 kilograms is just 1.9 million yuan.

Not even a fraction of his company’s daily net profit.

Jian Ruochen calculated carefully and suddenly felt that gold’s value-preserving attribute was as light as a feather to him.

No matter how much gold rises, could it possibly earn more than the professionals working under him?

Those people could net him over a hundred million yuan in a single day.

Buying gold… was more about scratching his spending itch.

Jian Ruochen sighed, "Never mind."

It seemed he was destined never to need to earn money himself in this lifetime.

Manager: ?

What? Has the young tycoon had a change of heart?

Is this colossal wealth about to slip away?

She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

Disappointed because the sale was lost.

Relieved because the gold price was going to drop.

She had spared someone future regret.

Before the manager could fully process her mixed emotions, Jian Ruochen said, "Switch it to gold certificates."

During the New Year, he could tuck them into red envelopes and give them to the staff at the villa who couldn’t go home.

Gold certificates carried a premium, but their collectible value was high. Most employees would be reluctant to sell them and would keep them for themselves.

Gold was something that, if held onto, could quadruple in value.

The manager asked blankly, "Even if the gold price might drop?"

"Mhm," Jian Ruochen said softly, "You can’t take it with you. You have to spend it sometime."

Otherwise, it would just keep snowballing, growing larger and larger.

It’s unspendable—literally unspendable.

Manager: …

She thought about the balance in Jian Ruochen’s account and slowly stood up.

Why worry?

1.9 million yuan was no different from 19 yuan to Jian Ruochen.

She said flatly, "The armored truck just left not long ago, so you’ll have to take it back yourself."

Jian Ruochen flashed an OK gesture, "No problem."

The 20 kilograms of gold certificates, wrapped in plastic protective layers, packed into a whole black leather suitcase.

The branch was low on stock, so in the end, they added two small 10-gram gold bars to make up the weight.

The branch manager was alerted and came out, only to find that the buyer of the gold certificates was actually an acquaintance.

He shook Jian Ruochen’s hand, shaking uncontrollably: "You’re a lifesaver, finally…"

With the gold price about to plummet, he’d gone half-gray from worry.

The branch manager said, "Do come back again next time."

A real-life God of Wealth.

With eyes brimming with tears, the branch manager saw Jian Ruochen off, almost wishing he could wave a farewell with his handkerchief.

Jian Ruochen bid an amused farewell to the branch manager and the staff, then lowered his head and lifted the heavy suitcase, mustering all his strength to walk toward the bank entrance.

Just as he stepped out of the VIP corridor, he suddenly heard a familiar voice: "Jian Ruochen?"

He looked up and saw a man emerging from the crowd.

Guan Yingjun was wearing a black windbreaker today, looking young enough to pass for a college student.

Jian Ruochen followed up, "What are you doing here?"

Guan Yingjun lifted the briefcase in his hand, "Withdrawing some money for investments. Are you here to withdraw money too?"

As he spoke, he glanced at Jian Ruochen’s hand. His slender, pale fingers were already chafed red from the pressure of the suitcase handle.

Jian Ruochen nodded and murmured, "Withdrawing some money to give year-end bonuses to the household staff."

Guan Yingjun switched his own suitcase to his left hand, reached out with his right, and took the suitcase from him. "I'll carry it."

The handle of the suitcase was narrow.

As the man's fingers slipped into the handle, Jian Ruochen brushed against the gun callus on his index finger.

It felt rough and very warm.

He abruptly jerked his hand back, licking his slightly dry lips. "Thank you."

Guan Yingjun's Adam's apple bobbed, an amused undertone in his voice. "No need."

They walked side by side toward the bank entrance.

Guan Yingjun said, "Every year on the first day of the Lunar New Year, the Major Crimes Unit goes to Wong Tai Sin Temple to pay respects. Will you come?"

Jian Ruochen: "Wong Tai Sin?"

Which deity is that?

"That's Chisongzi," Guan Yingjun replied, already accustomed to Jian Ruochen's unfamiliarity with Hong Kong customs.

He set the suitcase in his left hand on the ground and pulled a ticket from his pocket. "Wong Tai Sin Temple enshrines Wong Tai Sin, Guanyin, the Five Great Wealth Gods, and others. The police department issues tickets every year for us to go and pay respects."

Jian Ruochen took the ticket and flipped it over. It bore the police department's seal and a serial number—it really was an officially issued pass.

A group activity and a new experience—naturally, he would participate.

"Of course I'll go. I've never seen—"

Bang!

A gunshot suddenly rang out near their ears. Jian Ruochen was startled and reflexively leaned closer to Guan Yingjun.

The side door of the bank was slammed open, and five masked men rushed in.

The leader was burly and fierce-looking.

Just as Jian Ruochen was about to react, he felt a firm grip on his wrist.

Guan Yingjun pulled him back, and the light in front of him suddenly dimmed, completely blocked by the man's tall frame.

Jian Ruochen froze, his mind went blank.

Just a person away, the robber brandished a gun and roared, "Nobody move! Get down on the ground with your hands on your heads! Hand over all your valuables!"

The patterned marble floor tiles of the bank lobby reflected a dazzling, shimmering light.

The hanging lights swayed, casting flickering shadows that fueled panic.

The crowd suppressed fragmented screams, wishing they could shrink into a ball.

Jian Ruochen glanced toward the revolving door.

He and Guan Yingjun were only two steps away from the exit but also closest to the robbers.

Right in the line of fire.

The robber stepped forward with a submachine gun, its barrel pointed directly at Guan Yingjun. "Open the suitcase. Take your hand from behind your back—no funny business!"

He sneered, "I recognize you, cop. You must be raking it in, huh?"

Guan Yingjun slowly released his grip on Jian Ruochen, opened his suitcase, and revealed neatly stacked thousand-dollar Hong Kong bills inside.

Jian Ruochen's breath hitched.

The money looked like a lot, but knowing it was earned through life-risking undercover work made it seem somewhat insufficient.

Some people earn money through effort and risking their lives.

Others earn it through theft and robbery!

The robber grabbed the suitcase, dumped its contents roughly into a sack without a second glance, then kicked the other one. "Open this one."

Guan Yingjun didn't move. The robber raised the gun slightly, pressing it against his forehead. "Reluctant?"

Jian Ruochen immediately loosened Guan Yingjun's tightly clenched fingers and stepped forward under the man's astonished gaze. "It's mine. He doesn't know the combination."

No matter how Guan Yingjun felt about him, he wasn't the type to hide behind others.

Jian Ruochen narrowed his eyes cautiously. "Keep cool. I'll open it for you."

The robbers were extremely swift and professional. Working in coordination, they looted the entire bank's valuables in less than a minute.

Only this black suitcase remained unopened.

Jian Ruochen glanced at the three sacks—mostly filled with watches and jewelry.

A big commotion, but a meager haul.

The gun aimed at Guan Yingjun instantly shifted, pointing straight at Jian Ruochen. "Crouch down and do it. If you try anything, I'll kill you."

The area was filled with the elderly, children, women, and ordinary civilians.

Resisting was definitely not a good option now.

Jian Ruochen knelt, entered the suitcase's combination, and with a click, opened it, lifting the lid toward the robber.

Glittering gold notes!

The robber's eyes widened.

He had never seen so much money in his life!

"Boss!"

"Gold notes!"

Jian Ruochen surreptitiously scanned, taking the opportunity to observe every masked person on the scene.

These men were well-equipped. Dressed in earthy green camouflage uniforms, layered with gray-green bulletproof vests, their guns resembled mercenary gear. Their masks were made of knit, pure black with only the eyes, nose, and mouth exposed. Their shoes were uniform combat boots.

Organized and disciplined—not some makeshift operation.

Jian Ruochen tensed up.

With their faces covered, they were hard to identify. They wouldn't be easy to catch.

The lead robber didn't even look back, "Gold notes are fine, pack them up and let's go!"

The second-in-command acknowledged with an "Okay" and, together with another person, emptied a case of gold notes into the sack.

The ringleader scanned the room, his gaze settling on a little girl cowering in the corner. "Take a hostage."

Inside the bank counter, the staff had long pressed the emergency alarm button, but the West Kowloon Police Station was somewhat far—the police response time was five minutes, yet these guys were too fast.

They wouldn't last five minutes!

Jian Ruochen clenched his jaw, watching as the leader grabbed the little girl by her hair as she cowered in the corner.

The girl screamed, shaking uncontrollably, crying out, "Mommy! Mommy!"

Her little red dress was a crumpled mess, torn and disheveled, tears streaming down her face.

Jian Ruochen felt a lump in his throat.

No way!

He couldn’t let the robbers take a child!

He’d barely moved when the man in front of him said, "Boss, grab this one—it’ll cause a bigger stir."

The second-in-command, who had been packing the gold notes, pointed his gun at Jian Ruochen.

The robber released the little girl and walked over to Jian Ruochen, squinting slightly. "West Kowloon’s Criminal Psychological Consultant?"

Jian Ruochen swallowed hard. "It’s me."

His mind echoed the second-in-command’s words—grab this one, it’ll cause a bigger stir.

On second thought, banks have limited cash reserves, and stolen money is hard to launder. Experienced robbers usually avoid banks because the payoff isn’t worth the risk.

Could it be that these people weren’t after money at all, but rather aiming for publicity, looking to cause a spectacle?

Why?

Jian Ruochen’s gaze fell on the emptied suitcase, and he suddenly said, "I have another 50 million, right here."

He pulled out a spare debit card and tossed it into the suitcase. "The password is six zeros."

Whatever these people were really after, the bank had already been robbed.

To be safe, he upped the ante—enough to guarantee a life sentence.