Chapter 132: Thank You for the Party and the People

Chapter 132: Thank You for Serving the Party and the People

Lin Yazhi stared at the reporter for a moment, waiting until his raised microphone slowly lowered before she finally averted her gaze. "The West Kowloon Major Crimes Unit operates under strict regulations that absolutely forbid coercive interrogation. All interrogations are built upon solid evidence."

"Mr. Jian Ruochen, our newly recruited Criminal Psychological Consultant, played a pivotal role in the interrogations. This is, in all likelihood, the fundamental reason for our accelerated case resolution."

As her words faded, Jian Ruochen quickly retreated a few steps, but the sharp-eyed reporters still spotted him.

The two groups exchanged glances.

Jian Ruochen took another step back.

The reporters immediately reacted, swarming towards him.

"Consultant Jian, could you please disclose some details about the interrogation?"

"Consultant Jian, did you employ any leading questions during the interrogation? Did you lower your guard because the suspect was related to you by blood?"

"Consultant Jian, it's rumored that you saved a full 20 hours on this case. Is this figure exaggerated?"

"Consultant Jian, you've integrated into the West Kowloon Regional Police Station so quickly. Will you continue as a Criminal Psychological Consultant there after graduating from university? To my knowledge, West Kowloon is the only district in Hong Kong to have created this position. Will you face limited career opportunities elsewhere in the future?"

"Consultant Jian, as a university student who never attended police academy, hired externally by West Kowloon as a Criminal Psychological Consultant, do you experience any psychological pressure? Does this comply with regulations?"

Questions rained down, one after another.

Jian Ruochen listened intently for a while, then suddenly felt something was amiss.

These questions, seemingly innocuous, were actually highly leading, especially those from the reporter who had torn off his media logo—his inquiries were consistently sharp.

As he pondered, Jian Ruochen replied, "According to regulations, interrogation details cannot be disclosed. As for working without formal police training... initially, the West Kowloon Police Station intended to hire my teacher. However, Teacher Li is committed to teaching and nurturing talent, hoping to cultivate more professionals for Hong Kong, so he passed this opportunity on to me."

"If I encounter problems I can't solve, I simply call Teacher Li."

The reporters listened with keen interest.

So, this was the backstory behind the Criminal Psychological Consultant.

If Consultant Jian was this impressive, what kind of person must his Teacher Li be?

Everyone speculated curiously, completely forgetting their previous questions.

Jian Ruochen smiled, speaking in a casual, conversational tone, "I hope everyone can help promote the criminal behavior analysis program at Hong Kong University. It's a newly established course in the Academy of Social Sciences. For the first two months of the new semester, there will be open lectures every Wednesday and Sunday from 9 to 11 a.m."

As he spoke, he pulled cash from his pocket.

At moments like this, he missed mobile payments. Scanning a code was so much more convenient than cash.

Jian Ruochen meticulously counted out bills, handing ten to each reporter. "Please help us recruit students. Our Teacher Li is a tenured professor and the former head of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. In the future, various police stations and sub-stations will establish positions related to behavioral analysis and criminal psychology, so employment prospects will be excellent."

The reporter who had torn off his logo flushed crimson, still wanting to provoke Jian Ruochen, but he no longer had the heart to cause trouble.

The money in his hand was so substantial!

Consultant Jian was truly approachable.

·

Jian Ruochen dispatched the reporters to write their "recruitment brochures," watching their retreating figures as he quietly exhaled. He wondered if the reporter who tore off his logo was sent by someone else or simply wanted to stir up trouble on his own.

Too bad he didn't have a camera.

"No case today. Why are you here?" Lin Yazhi had appeared beside him at some point.

Jian Ruochen: "I came to help. There's too much follow-up documentation. Team A can't handle it all. Finishing early means we can initiate legal proceedings sooner."

He thought of Luo Binwen, who had been frequently distracted lately, and paused before murmuring softly, "After all, he's his mother's murderer."

Lin Yazhi sighed, abruptly changing the subject: "By the way, Team A did an exceptional job on this case. The higher-ups have decided to issue bonuses! You'll get one too—1 million HKD."

Jian Ruochen exclaimed, "Wow, a windfall!"

He chuckled to himself. "So much money!"

Compared to 10 billion, 1 million was a mere drop in the ocean, but this 1 million was earned by his own efforts.

It held a different significance.

"Does everyone get 1 million HKD?" Jian Ruochen asked as he walked with Lin Yazhi toward the Major Crimes Unit.

"Of course not. It’s based on contribution. Others will receive around 500,000 to 800,000 HKD. This case was complex, and with all the various components, those who were initially slated for 500,000 HKD will ultimately receive 700,000 HKD."

Lin Yazhi glanced back to ensure the commander wasn’t present before lowering her voice. "Don’t think Detective Guan is always silent. Actually, he’s the one who, knowing the Secretary for Security was about to step down, personally pressured the higher-ups for this money."

Jian Ruochen: ...

Are you saying that before Noranda Weir stepped down, he was pressured for nearly 10 million HKD by the Senior Inspector of West Kowloon’s Major Case Team A to distribute as bonuses to those who helped bring about his downfall?

A truly cutting blow!

Jian Ruochen couldn’t help but chuckle softly. "Why would the higher-ups agree?"

"Probably thought they could buy their way out of trouble," Lin Yazhi shrugged. "By the way, the current Secretary for Security asked me to give you this."

Lin Yazhi reached into her pocket and pulled out an envelope.

Jian Ruochen peeked inside and saw a letter and a meal voucher.

The current Secretary for Security was indeed the Deputy Director sent by Mainland China. He had seized this opportunity and ascended to the top.

"He heard from somewhere that you love Mainland Chinese cuisine, so he sent you a meal voucher for an upscale restaurant. Rumor has it they have a chef from northern Mainland China," Lin Yazhi said excitedly. "This place is expensive and hard to book. The current Secretary for Security seems quite attentive to you."

How could he not be?

He had only been in the deputy director’s seat for less than half a year, hadn't even warmed the seat, and then suddenly became the director.

Lin Yazhi thought carefully and felt that once Lu Rong was apprehended, many would benefit from promotions. Was Jian Ruochen truly some kind of reincarnation of the God of Wealth?

The two parted ways at the entrance of the Major Crimes Unit.

Jian Ruochen opened the letter and read it word by word.

"Dear Mr. Jian, I hope this letter finds you well.

Thank you for everything you have done for the Party and the people."

It was even in Simplified Chinese!

Jian Ruochen snapped the letter shut, his heart pounding. He looked around to ensure no one was watching, then tucked the letter under his desk and read it in the same sneaky posture he used to sneak-read comics in middle school.

"...Half a year ago, I received orders to infiltrate hostile forces. I was stressed out and made no progress, never expected..."

The writing was ambiguous and vague; anyone else reading it would have no idea what this person was rambling about.

But Jian Ruochen understood. He continued reading and found something about the 5.9 billion development project, mentioning that an engineer had been found—a patriotic professor who had returned from the United States. He had signed a confidentiality agreement immediately upon returning and was already under protection, so his name couldn't be revealed.

After quietly mentioning everything that might be of concern, the letter concluded with a long, implicit paragraph.

Translated, it meant: Do you desire anything? Would you like to become a glorious Party member? Do you wish to join the Hong Kong Chamber of Commerce?

It's time to get moving. The relationship between Hong Kong and the mainland also needs to be nurtured from a young age.

Mr. Gu Youming, the former richest man in Hong Kong, transferred his businesses to the United States in just half a year, then brought his assets and some businesses back to the mainland, already gaining market share there. You should learn from him!

Jian Ruochen broke into a sweat.

Was this the power of 5.9 billion, or the power of him continuously ousting British Hong Kong loyalists?

Why did it feel like those above were trying to force-feed him like he's a stubborn child?

This wasn’t normal...

But thinking it over, Gu Youming was in his forties or fifties, his ideology already set. It made sense for them to want to foster closer ties with younger, more pro-mainland entrepreneurs, especially since his political stance was clearly firm.

But he wasn’t an entrepreneur!

Jian Ruochen folded the letter, fetched Guan Yingjun’s ashtray, pressed the letter into it, and burned it. Then he took out the reservation coupon for the fancy restaurant.

It indeed had the reservation time and table number written on it.

If the Secretary for Security wanted to meet him, it wouldn't be this complicated. Probably someone else wanted to see him?

He stood up and paced nervously.

Who? Who would it be?

The fortune slip he drew at the Wong Tai Sin Temple at the beginning of the year was actually this accurate?

"Jiang Ziya becoming prime minister"—the best possible fortune.

If he wanted the power to overturn the table, he had to go down this path. It was just a bit earlier than expected...

It was 1993, with four years left. No wonder they were anxious.

So why hesitate?

Jian Ruochen clenched the reservation coupon and made up his mind.

October 7th.

The last day of the National Day holiday.

He would definitely show up.

"What are you thinking about?" Guan Yingjun had just returned from Forensics and saw Jian Ruochen staring out the window, deep in thought.

"Thinking about the future." Jian Ruochen glanced around, saw no one else in the office, and leaned in to whisper in Guan Yingjun’s ear. "What do you want to do in the future? After leaving the Major Crimes Unit, where do you want to go?"

"Back to CIB." Guan Yingjun smoothed down Jian Ruochen’s wind-mussed hair. "I’ll work in intelligence for the next ten years. By then, it’ll be about time to clean up the remaining British Hong Kong intelligence agents and triad organizations in Hong Kong. Working in CIB will make coordination easier."

He lowered his gaze and gave Jian Ruochen a meaningful look. "If the Commissioner at that time thinks that way."

Jian Ruochen touched the tip of his nose. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Guan Yingjun’s eyes lingered on his flushed cheeks and bright, clear gaze, the corners of his lips curling up slightly. "You’d be quite suited for it."

Jian Ruochen: ...

Does Director Le know you think like this?

He muttered, "What if you become the Commissioner? Your uncle already is one, and you’d inherit all his connections anyway. How great would that be?"

Guan Yingjun chuckled and slowly shook his head.

Rather than worrying about the security of all of Hong Kong as Commissioner, he’d rather be the most effective tool.

No need for political maneuvering—as long as Jian Ruochen found him useful.

"What connections could compare to the ones you’re building now?" Guan Yingjun picked up the ashtray by the window, dipped his fingers in, and brushed aside the ashes inside.

"Paper ash, gray and carbonized, similar to plant ash. Probably from about 250 grams of letter paper." He paused, picking up an unburned corner—a red double-line paper edge with embossed sealing, the seal imprint in simplified Chinese characters. "Mainland letter paper."

As he spoke, he took out a lighter and burned the remaining piece clean. "Burn it vertically next time. Crumpling it up doesn’t burn it completely."

The summer breeze blew in, carrying gray ash swirling out the window. Dazzling sunlight fell on the windowsill.

Jian Ruochen grabbed a wet wipe, lowered his head, and thoroughly cleaned Guan Yingjun’s hand, even between his fingers.

Guan Yingjun watched, his neck tensed up unconsciously.

"The last of the evidence is gone," Jian Ruochen said softly.

His heart was pounding.

Detective Guan didn’t often make deductions in front of him, but every time he did, it was... confident and sure.

As if he was never wrong.

Jian Ruochen held his hand and said with a teasing chuckle, "So, how about it? I commit the crime, you destroy the evidence—does that make us accomplices?"