Chapter 61: Sniffing Clothes

Chapter 61: Sniffing Out Clues

Jian Ruochen unfolded the creased part of the newspaper.

There was a photo of Jiang Mingshan, impeccably dressed in a suit, raising a toast and chatting animatedly at Jiang Hanyu’s engagement banquet.

The lights were glitzy and extravagant, the attire opulent, and his face beamed with pride.

Xiang Jingrong approached with photos, following Jian Ruochen’s gaze. "Just over a month ago, and now everything has changed."

He leaned against the desk. "Thanks to you, otherwise, who knows when we would have caught Jiang Mingshan."

Jian Ruochen folded the newspaper neatly. "It wasn’t just my effort alone."

Xiang Jingrong handed him a stack of items. "The photos."

Several photos were clear and sharp, with distinct black-and-white contrasts.

On the back, detailed information was written: tire models, truck types, and estimated load capacities.

Jian Ruochen was taken aback. "Sir Xiang?"

Xiang Jingrong rubbed the back of his neck. "I thought you might need them, so I went ahead and did the tire track analysis."

The box of cigarettes Detective Guan had given him felt like a burden—if he didn’t do something in return, his conscience would bother him.

"Thank you." Jian Ruochen flipped through them one by one.

He had definitely seen these marks before.

Such dual-wheel tracks usually appeared under heavy-duty trucks.

And as for the box truck related to Lu Qian…

It could only be the one driven away by the underlings when they transported the processed drugs on the day the CIB raided the 1892 bar!

But why would that drug-transporting truck have entered and exited Tianquan Du?

Could it be that Lu Qian had stored his remaining limited supply of goods there?

Jian Ruochen’s heart raced wildly, suddenly feeling as though he had stumbled upon Lu Qian’s Achilles' heel.

"Beep beep beep!"

The pager on the desk suddenly rang.

Jian Ruochen was so startled he snapped to attention, instinctively reaching for his pocket. Only when his hand was inside did he remember he was wearing Detective Guan’s clothes.

There was no pager in the pocket—only a cold hip flask.

Xiang Jingrong chuckled, picking up the pager to check. "Are you that sensitive to pager alerts? Oh, it’s Detective Guan calling you."

Jian Ruochen breathed a sigh of relief and waved the photos in his hand. "Thanks, Sir Xiang."

That ringtone was truly terrifying—it could rival the default alarm tone of an Apple phone in 2030.

People in the '90s definitely wouldn’t understand the fear people in 2030 had toward phone rings and alarm tones.

Someday, he’d have to invest more in that computer tech company so they could develop phones with silent vibration mode sooner…

The electric hot pot cooker borrowed from the D team had extremely high power.

Jian Ruochen could hear the water bubbling vigorously even before he reached the door.

When he opened it, three baskets of prepped vegetables and frozen meat were arranged on the coffee table.

Detective Guan had rolled up half of his shirt sleeves and was using a long-handled soup ladle to stir the broth to dissolve the base.

The spicy aroma of red oil wafted to his nose, making his mouth water.

Jian Ruochen closed the door behind him. "Detective Guan, I got the photos. Xiang Jingrong helped us with the tire track analysis."

Detective Guan grunted in acknowledgment, added fresh wild mushrooms into the broth to enhance the flavor, wiped his hands, and took the photos to examine. "A box truck?"

Jian Ruochen: "Yes, I suspect it might be the same truck Lu Qian used to transport goods on the day the 1892 bar was raided."

Detective Guan stood up and placed the photos he’d finished looking at on the desk. "That’s very possible. Unfortunately, the Lu family has connections higher up. It was already a major accomplishment for Ji Bailou to get one search warrant. Last time, we got the warrant but found nothing, which faced criticism. Trying to apply for another one, especially to investigate the already closed Tianquan Du… it’ll probably be very difficult to get approved."

Jian Ruochen stared intently at the shiitake mushrooms rolling in the boiling broth. "Lu Qian’s backing is that strong?"

"The Lu family has been established in Hong Kong since the Qing Dynasty. Over so many years, they’ve developed their own network of connections."

Detective Guan opened two bottles of yogurt, handed one to Jian Ruochen, stood up to skim the foam from the hot pot, added meatballs and fish slices, and then sat back down.

The steam was intense.

In no time, it made their faces flush red.

Jian Ruochen dipped the meat in the broth, muttering, "If only we had sesame paste."

Back in Liaoning Province, when they had hot pot, the owner would always prepare a bowl of sesame sauce dip for them—it was absolutely incredible.

Detective Guan picked up a few plastic bags tied together. "The dipping sauces are here."

This was actually found by an informant from the southern fish market. He never imagined he’d use his informant network to source condiments.

Jian Ruochen finished mixing the dipping sauce and listened to Detective Guan explain the Lu family’s situation while eating.

The Lu family only had two children: Lu Rong and Lu Qian, who were half-siblings.

Lu Rong operated in Hong Kong Island, while Lu Qian operated in the Kowloon Peninsula. For years, they didn’t interfere with each other, until three years ago when the head of the Lu family was hospitalized with a serious illness.

A succession battle then began…

From Detective Guan’s description, Jian Ruochen could vaguely glimpse parts that weren’t elaborated on in the book "The Elite."

The three-year struggle was extremely fierce. Family bonds within the Lu family became meaningless during this conflict, and both Lu Qian and Lu Rong’s mothers died one after the other within those three years.

Now, the battle had reached its most critical moment.

"Is Lu Qian’s older brother law-abiding?" Jian Ruochen used a slotted spoon to scoop out a spoonful of clams, his face flushed red from the spiciness.

Detective Guan glanced over, then quickly averted his gaze as if scalded. "There isn’t a single law-abiding citizen in the Lu family. But Lu Rong mainly operates on Hong Kong Island. Catching him is the Hong Kong Royal Police’s responsibility."

"Oh." Jian Ruochen ate clams one by one, glancing sideways at Detective Guan’s dipping sauce bowl.

It was actually a bowl of vinegar with yellow flaky residue!

"What kind of vinegar is that?"

Guan Yingjun's voice was already a bit hoarse. "Pomelo vinegar."

He raised his hand to finish the yogurt beside him, then opened another bottle.

Jian Ruochen laughed. Detective Guan even knew to drink yogurt to cut the spice. "You really can't handle spicy food? Then why did you ask me to eat together?"

Guan Yingjun fell silent for a moment.

Just as Jian Ruochen thought he wouldn't answer, a very calm statement came from beside him: "I just wanted to eat with you. It doesn’t matter what we eat."

Jian Ruochen choked, his throat moving instinctively as he swallowed the half-chewed hot pot ball whole.

Ignoring his tongue still burning from the heat, he stared wide-eyed in shock.

Guan Yingjun handed over the shelled shrimp. "What's wrong?"

He carefully observed Jian Ruochen’s expression and, seeing only surprise without any disgust or rejection, smirked. "Eat the shrimp."

Jian Ruochen numbly ate one after another, feeling somewhat dazed.

Was that such a casual thing to say?

How could he just say it like that?

As if he wasn’t embarrassed at all, so natural.

Guan Yingjun said, "After this meal, I’ll find a time to show your medical records to Butler Luo. The doctor said you need to avoid certain foods. This hot pot base is too spicy; you shouldn’t eat too much."

Jian Ruochen poked at the hot pot ball in his bowl, watching it bob up and down in the sesame sauce, and softly murmured, "Oh."

He had to stuff himself before going home.

Eating hot pot was quite a good way to bond.

After all, you couldn’t just eat without talking; even discussing work could go on for a while.

The meal lasted nearly three hours.

In the end, Jian Ruochen took off his jacket, chewing slowly until he was practically stuffing himself. After finishing, he lay on the sofa for ten minutes to recover.

He felt like what he ate today wasn’t hot pot but memories of friendships and "family bonds" from his past life that never went anywhere.

His teachers and instructors were all very good to him.

Sometimes he still wanted to go back, to eat the frozen pear he and his roommate buried in the balcony snow that they never got to dig out.

Jian Ruochen was lost in thought, leaning silently against the armrest of the sofa, his breathing slightly heavy.

Actually, coming to this era wasn’t so bad.

He had enough money to last three lifetimes, a Butler Luo who treated him like a father and a friend, almost like family, and a group of colleagues to laugh and move forward with.

He could still remember the faces of his roommates from China’s Criminal Police Academy, still remember the military compound where he grew up.

But in a few years, these memories might also fade away.

Jian Ruochen rubbed a wet napkin between his fingers, his eyes slightly sore. He blinked hard, but before the moisture could clear, he saw Guan Yingjun, who had finished cleaning the pots and dishes, wiping his hands with a handkerchief.

Guan Yingjun noticed his eyes and immediately paused. "What’s wrong? Did something happen?"

Jian Ruochen smiled, his voice stuffy. "The hot pot’s lingering spice is strong; it’s a bit spicy."

After a moment, he added, "It’s sad to think I can’t eat it again next time."

As he spoke, he stood up. "I’m going to the restroom."

Guan Yingjun watched the door close, his gaze falling back on the sofa’s backrest.

A black windbreaker was draped there.

He picked up the garment, almost involuntarily unfolded it, smoothed it out, and stared at it for a while. Despite the heat, he put it on.

Inside the room, the air was still filled with the lingering smell of hot pot, but Guan Yingjun could still detect Jian Ruochen’s scent on the clothes—fresh and clean, faintly like the fragrance of yuzu, mixed with a hint of sweet body wash.

Guan Yingjun zipped up the jacket, turned to pull up the blinds, and opened the window. A cool breeze blew in, rustling the papers on his desk but failing to cool the restlessness in his heart.

Leaning against the windowsill, Guan Yingjun pondered.

Judging by Jian Ruochen’s reaction today, it didn’t seem like he was truly disgusted.

Jian Ruochen appeared friendly to everyone, but in reality, he had strong boundaries. If he really disliked someone hitting on him, he would firmly draw the line and definitely wouldn’t eat shrimp peeled by that person.

Guan Yingjun chuckled softly, thinking that pursuing Jian Ruochen was quite interesting.

·

Jian Ruochen splashed some water on his face in the restroom, pulled himself together, returned to the office, sat for a while longer until his stomach felt better, then got a ride home with Guan Yingjun.

Coincidentally, Luo Binwen had also finished his work.

As soon as Jian Ruochen entered, he was looked over from head to toe.

Butler Luo confirmed that the young master hadn’t been harmed by the robbers before letting out a sigh of relief. "I had the bank manager send over the surveillance footage from that time. You really…"

Heaven knew how terrified he was when he saw the young master using his chin to press down on a gun.

"Uncle Luo," Jian Ruochen took out what he bought at the convenience store to distract the butler. "Let’s put up the Spring Festival couplets together! I promise I won’t do something like that again!"

Luo Binwen said, "I don’t believe you…"

He paused, his expression a bit strange, and reached into the plastic bag to sift through its contents. "So many?"

"I only bought one set of Spring Festival couplets—" Jian Ruochen’s words cut off abruptly as he remembered the things he randomly bought in a panic to stall the shopkeeper.

"Uncle Luo, listen to me…"

Luo Binwen smiled. "It’s fine, I understand. Let’s put up the couplets first."

Jian Ruochen: …

He really bought the wrong thing.

Could he use medium-sized condoms? Probably not…

With both of them working together, the couplets were put up squarely and beautifully.

The *fu* character was upside down.

Jian Ruochen also let it go.

Whatever. So be it.

His mind was focused on questioning Jiang Mingshan about the source of the vitamin B, so he didn’t sleep much and woke up at 7 a.m. the next day.

He had eaten too much the day before and didn’t feel hungry after getting ready. He just sat at the dining table, drank some milk, and ate an egg. When Guan Yingjun arrived, he took a car to Kowloon Prison, near Kowloon Magistrates' Court.

Detective Guan’s face was the best ticket in Kowloon Prison.

From the prison guards to the guards, everyone knew him. After entering, no clearance was needed, and he went straight through, directly led to the visitation room.

The divided visiting area was safe and transparent.

In the center of the room was a transparent, vented plexiglass wall, dividing the room in two.

The innocent on the outside.

The guilty on the inside.

"Please wait a moment," the prison guard said. "I’ll bring Jiang Mingshan over."

After the court’s death sentence was issued, Jiang Mingshan moved from the court detention center to the Kowloon Prison under the court’s jurisdiction.

The once-flourishing man now appeared empty-eyed and detached. When he saw the person in front of him, a hint of madness flashed in Jiang Mingshan’s eyes.

Jian Ruochen watched him calmly.

Jiang Mingshan sat down behind the glass partition, his face flushed with anticipation.

Jian Ruochen came after all!

There must be a new opportunity for his case!

The prison guard unlocked his handcuffs, then closed the door and stood to the side.

Before Jian Ruochen could speak, Jiang Mingshan leaned forward. "Is there a break in my case? I knew you wouldn’t give up on my fortune! Let me go! Let me out!"

Jian Ruochen cut to the chase, pulling out a photo of vitamin B. "Do you recognize this?"

He stared at Jiang Mingshan, observing every inch of his expression.

Confusion, careful scrutiny, then lowered eyelids in thought.

No flash of recognition appeared on Jiang Mingshan’s face. It meant he had never seen such a thing.

Jian Ruochen narrowed his eyes and put down the photo.

"I know," Jiang Mingshan slammed his hand against the partition glass. "Let me out! I’ll tell you once I’m out."

"You’re lying," Jian Ruochen brought a photo labeled "Vitamin B" closer to Jiang Mingshan. "Then tell me, what’s in this bottle?"

Jiang Mingshan shouted almost frantically, "Vitamin B!"

Jian Ruochen remained silent.

Jiang Mingshan frantically changed his answer: "Vitamin C!... Supplements? No... it’s fish oil!"

His execution was set for that afternoon.

He didn’t want to die.

Jiang Mingshan slammed against the glass, almost pressing his face against it, his eyes bloodshot with madness. "The Jiang family is so wealthy—you wouldn’t turn down more. I can help you buy influence with officials. From now on, I’ll do anything for you!"

Jian Ruochen stood up.

Since it wasn’t Jiang Mingshan who provided the vitamin B, there was nothing more to say.

He had no interest in watching a beaten dog.

"Brrrring—"

A phone rang.

Jian Ruochen answered, "Hello?"

The person on the other end spoke loudly, extremely excited. "Sir! Do you still remember me?"

Jian Ruochen glanced at the caller ID, remained silent for a moment, and said, "Speak."

Guan Yingjun smirked.

With that tone, he definitely didn’t remember.

The person on the phone said, "You’ve got an eye for talent! This tech firm that Jiang Hanyu sold actually contained a prototype server chip! That idiot Jiang Mingshan actually canceled such a promising project! I plowed the profits back in, and the scientists finished it."

"If you increase the investment, we can immediately have our own operational base station. You can either monopolize the technology or sell the chips."

"This company will take off!" He had definitely chosen the right person!

Jian Ruochen said, "I’m in. Just keep working on it. Work out the details with Butler Luo."

In the 1990s, mobile phone receivers had poor privacy, and the volume couldn’t be adjusted. The man spoke loudly, his excitement unhidden.

Jiang Mingshan listened, his eyelids twitching with anger. "That ungrateful son Jiang Hanyu sold the electronics technology to you? That idiot!"

Jian Ruochen turned around.

He didn’t understand how Jiang Mingshan had the nerve to call someone else foolish.

Even the prison guard behind him had to interject. "Inmate 2190, half of the Jiang family’s businesses have already shut down. Jiang Hanyu inherited less than a third of your prime assets. You have no money left."

Jiang Mingshan’s vision blackened, his chest pierced with pain.

Guan Yingjun added calmly, "Of the remaining third, 90 percent are illegal industries. If we find evidence, those will eventually be confiscated. The last tenth will be sold off by the court to repay debts. You are broke."

Hong Kong no longer had a place for the Jiang family.

Jiang Mingshan felt his blood boil.

He stared blankly at the sharp-dressed Jian Ruochen, then looked down at his own brown prison uniform and slumped in defeat.

He was set to die at 1 p.m.

But he felt as if the bullet was already in his brain.

Right then, he was a dead man.

All these years, he had pulled every string, plotting and fighting to build his family fortune—and just like that—gone?

Vanished!

The most valuable and promising industry was acquired by Jian Ruochen, taken into his possession!

Why!

Why did Jian Ruochen have such uncanny luck and keen insight!

Jiang Mingshan's ears rang, his entire body trembled.

Before his death, he had become broke again!

Poverty, to him, was more terrifying than death.

—

Jian Ruochen didn't look back at Jiang Mingshan, turning and leaving the prison.

Outside, the sun was shining brightly, warm and soothing.

It made one's bones feel loose and relaxed.

Nearby, Guan Yingjun's phone chimed.

He took it out to check, "Ji Bailou's application to reinvestigate Tianquan Capital was indeed rejected."

Jian Ruochen mused.

Guan Yingjun added, "Madam Lin said that after the New Year, we'll hold a meeting to devise a way to investigate the inside of Tianquan Capital."

Jian Ruochen asked, "What is Madam Lin planning to do? How can we investigate without a search warrant?"

Guan Yingjun replied, "Naturally, it'll depend on me."

He paused, "What Ji Bailou can't get, Lei Jinwen can issue."

Jian Ruochen: ...So it's about pulling strings.

"If we get the search warrant but find nothing inside Tianquan Capital, wouldn't that hurt Lei Jinwen's political career?"

Guan Yingjun opened the passenger door, gesturing for Jian Ruochen to get in, "That's why we'll burn incense and pray to the Great Immortal Huang over the New Year before searching Tianquan Capital."

Jian Ruochen: "Asking the deity to bless the Major Crimes Unit with immediate success?"

Guan Yingjun's voice carried a hint of laughter, "Asking the deity to bless Lei Jinwen's political career. As for the Major Crimes Unit..."

He turned the key to start the ignition and pressed the accelerator.

The engine rumbled deeply.

Guan Yingjun started the car and said softly, "The Major Crimes Unit has your blessing, doesn't it? Little God of Wealth."