Chapter 133: You Didn’t Spend a Penny of That Money!

Chapter 133: You really haven't spent any of that money, have you!

Guan Yingjun took Jian Ruochen's hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. His eyes lowered, lost in thought, he didn't respond.

Jian Ruochen’s words were just too sweet.

His methods of stirring emotions were indeed masterful.

Guan Yingjun cupped both hands together, rubbing Jian Ruochen’s hand between his own palms.

The rough texture of his palms against the skin felt ticklish.

Jian Ruochen’s ears warmed, and he chuckled at the rubbing. "Why aren’t you saying anything?"

"It's complicated," Guan Yingjun released his hand and glanced up at the faint blush on Jian Ruochen’s ear. "There are people coming and going in the office. We’ll talk at home."

Jian Ruochen paused, glanced around.

The A-team office had been bustling earlier, with people moving in and out for file reviews. It wasn't particularly crowded, and no one stayed long enough to notice them.

But as it got later, more people gradually returned to the A-team office. Fortunately, he and Guan Yingjun were facing the window with their backs to the room. Even if someone looked over, they’d only see them standing together, nothing more.

Jian Ruochen slowly withdrew his hand and took a step aside. "I’m going to work on the written documents for the Hong Kong University weight-loss drug case."

Guan Yingjun: "Go on."

Summer vacation.

The Hong Kong University campus was empty.

Naturally, the weight-loss drugs had no market to circulate in. To truly catch the organization selling Preludin weight-loss pills on campus, they’d have to wait until the semester began.

After finishing the materials, Jian Ruochen reviewed the interrogation documents reviewed by Zhang Xingzong, then signed and fingerprinted them.

By the time the sun began to set, the A-team had only completed half of their assigned tasks. The other teams were even more overwhelmed, complaints heard everywhere.

"How could Oliver Keith have hoarded so much useless stuff? It’s making our evidence matching so difficult!"

"Exactly… just the watches with crocodile leather straps alone number over a dozen. Who knows which one the victim had been wearing?"

"Has A-team finished with Feng Ye and Di Qiuhe? I passed by earlier and saw they were about to leave for the day!"

"They have Jian Ruochen—their investigations go much more smoothly. I heard the fishing village residents even sent thank-you gifts to A-team. So envious! Our E-team’s victim’s family moved to the New Territories. It’s really far…"

"Well, let's take our time," Chen Jincai sighed.

Jian Ruochen quickly gathered his things on the desk, ready to grab his bag and leave.

Just as he picked it up, Guan Yingjun said, "Wait. This afternoon, the fishing village residents sent some fish balls and fried fish skin. Take your share before leaving."

He pointed to nine red plastic bags placed near the break area, each containing two white foam boxes.

Inside one container were large, round fish balls, and the other held fish skin sprinkled with dried seasoning and some unknown yellow powder.

Zhang Xingzong: "What’s this yellow powder? I’ve never had fish skin like this."

Jian Ruochen picked up a bag, sniffed it, then took a piece of curled fried fish skin and tasted it. It was savory-sweet with a hint of ginger and peppery spice. The powder was salted egg yolk, fragrant and appetizing.

"It’s salted egg yolk with fish roe powder," Bi Wanwan also tried a piece. "Some egg-carrying female fish have this roe inside when cleaned. When cooked, it turns yellow."

"Hey, there’s a note in my bag too," Sizheng Liu pulled out a slightly crumpled, yellowed A4 paper.

On it, messily written in pencil: "Thank you, West Kowloon Major Crimes Unit, for bringing the fishing village children home. Feng Ye has been buried on a small hill in the Wild Fishing Park. He used to like reading there during holidays. The park discovered the body and can’t stay open anymore. Many families who hadn’t gone fishing in years have recently returned to the bay. These are some fish we caught lately—we specially picked the best and freshest parts as a thank-you gift for the Major Crimes Unit. We hope you don't mind…"

The red plastic bags felt heavy in each person's hand.

The handwriting on the A4 paper wasn’t pretty, the sentences were straightforward, and there were no paragraph breaks, making it somewhat hard to read.

The words slanted and crowded together, large and small, pushed together.

Jian Ruochen looked at the note filled with gratitude, feeling both touched and somewhat uncertain.

This was the first time he faced such sincere, fervent thanks. The fishing village folks were simply expressing pure gratitude, asking for nothing in return.

In previous years, these egg-carrying female fish would likely have been released into the Wild Fishing Park’s ponds to breed, ensuring plenty of fish for guests during peak seasons.

Now that the park could no longer operate, they’d prepared these fish, mixing the roe with salted egg yolk crumbs sprinkled on fish skin, giving their best to those they wished to thank.

It was probably the finest thing they could give.

"Ah," Zhang Xingzong lifted an elbow, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

He felt emotional.

Jian Ruochen ate two more pieces of fish skin—crispy, fragrant, and appetizing. It could be sold.

Not only sold but also featured as a Kowloon Bay specialty. They could even partner with the malt sugar uncle from Kowloon Walled City to open a chain snack shop like "Hong Kong Pier," specializing in rediscovering these overlooked traditional flavors.

Jian Ruochen picked up his red plastic bag and glanced back. "I won’t join for dinner today. Let Detective Guan know I have something to attend to—I’m heading out first."

Zhang Xingzong’s heart still felt heavy, his spirits low. He murmured an "okay," and by the time he collected himself, Jian Ruochen was already gone.

Jian Ruochen urged his driver to speed home. During dinner, he excitedly explained to a somewhat dazed Luo Binwen his idea for a partitioned snack shop selling assorted fried goods. "...We can market and package it, promoting it as traditional Hong Kong flavors. We could also collaborate with major biscuit factories to sell packaged, weighed snacks."

"This way, even those with little money can try a small amount—just buy however much you want."

He laid out the red plastic bag. "Try this fish skin."

Luo Binwen picked up a piece, looking at Jian Ruochen with a soft expression. "Quite good, very distinctive. Do you want to help them?"

Jian Ruochen scratched his cheek. "The profit margin might not be high, but if we take two approaches, it could work. One targets affordability—retail sales with egg yolk seasoning but no roe. The other focuses on premium gifts—whole sales and high-end packaging for the middle class, adding roe to the seasoning. During holidays, giving a bag as a gift wouldn’t feel cheap."

Overall...

"If we scale it up, even after deducting costs like labor and rent, there’s still profit." Jian Ruochen counted on his fingers. "Later, we could expand to the mainland. Fishing is something every fisher knows—sourcing won’t be a problem. It could also create many jobs."

Luo Binwen ate another piece and chuckled softly.

So similar.

When Keli Siduo worked on the convenience milk project, she said the same:

"Everyone knows how to ride a bicycle. A convenience milk service could create so many milk delivery jobs. These people earn money, then spend it—riding our subways, buying our newspapers, watching Kang Nate’s films. The money circulates. They live better, and we profit more."

Jian Ruochen clapped his hands. "A win-win! I think it’s doable. Kang Nate has cinemas worldwide—we could even create a snack combo for theaters with fish skin, malt sugar, popcorn, or fries."

Massive profits.

Luo Binwen quickly came to a conclusion.

This industry chain was viable from the very beginning.

Over the next 20 years, the entertainment industry, including film and television, was set to boom. People would go to cinemas, sample tasty snacks, and inevitably want to have them again.

Then they would either return to the cinema or look for them in stores, so the cinemas would essentially advertise the snack shops.

Meanwhile, the cinemas could also use these snacks to gain an edge over competitors. Most of the time, different cinemas often show the same films, and audiences often decide based on small perks.

These distinctions must come from service quality.

"You... really don’t want to study finance?" Luo Binwen flipped open his notebook and glanced at Jian Ruochen’s course schedule. "According to your plan, you could finish all your credits by next year. Why not pursue a double major in finance?"

Jian Ruochen flinched and waved his hands dismissively. "No, no."

He really couldn’t handle the walls of numbers and text.

"I can only offer some concepts..."

And these concepts were all thanks to benefiting from his foresight, hardly original.

It was like standing on the shoulders of giants.

Jian Ruochen slung his arm around Luo Binwen’s. "Uncle Luo, actually, I already had a lawyer draw up my will. If anything happens to me, Kang Nate's entire estate will go to you. I'm useless—I just know how to spend."

Luo Binwen: ...

Where have you spent it?

You've had 10 billion for so long, and it’s still 10 billion.

You've actually made quite a bit.

He spent 3 billion on a piece of land in Kowloon and committed 5.9 billion to the mainland, adding up to 8.9 billion in total spending.

All told, it’s roughly just three months of Kang Nate’s net profit.

And that’s in a down market.

Luo Binwen sighed. "You haven't made a dent in your 10 billion."

Jian Ruochen: ...

Really?

Is it that exaggerated?

"How could you make a will?" Luo Binwen sighed again, exasperated. "Go cancel it. I am not the owner of Kang Nate, and you will have children in the future. Wouldn’t it be better to leave it to them?"

Jian Ruochen slowly removed his hand from Luo Binwen’s arm, placed it on his knee, and sat up straight. "You know, I like men."

Luo Binwen thought of Lu Qian and frowned. "Didn’t you say Oliver Keith gave you Preludin? Were you serious back then?"

"No." Jian Ruochen glanced at Uncle Luo’s expression, opened his mouth, but still felt it was too much for him to hear now, so he mumbled vaguely, "Anyway, it’s not possible. If my grandfather had any siblings with descendants, you could adopt one of them."

Luo Binwen was momentarily speechless, not knowing how to respond. "You’re still young. Your thoughts may change as you grow up. Let’s not talk about this. Let’s discuss the snack shop at Hong Kong Pier. The old man selling malt sugar cakes is thriving now—he might not be willing to sell the recipe."

"It’s fine. Go talk to him first. I have a feeling that old man isn't that type of person." Jian Ruochen thought back to the scene during the chase in Kowloon Walled City and zoned out again.

Since Lu Qian was gone, drug traffickers in Hong Kong seemed to have dwindled, and there were no large-scale drug manufacturing factories anymore.

"Let’s go to the fishing village together tonight. They don’t know you, so I’ll show you around." Jian Ruochen finished the fish skin with a crunch, wolfed down his dinner, and went with Luo Binwen to the fishing village.

At the Repulse Bay Wild Fishing Park, the pond was filled with clear seawater due to the high tide. The mud had been carefully cleared, and some seaweed was planted, making the water crystal clear.

Unfortunately, there were no fish in the pond, and the fishing spots nearby were empty—it was very quiet.

As soon as Jian Ruochen got out of the car, he locked eyes with Du Luoxin. The man took two steps back. "I just came back from the sea—I’m a bit fishy."

Luo Binwen glanced at him.

Jian Ruochen said, "It’s fine. I see there are no fish in the pond. Where are the fish?"

"Released." Du Luoxin pursed his lips, feeling melancholic. "After the body was discovered, people nearby said the fish here weren’t clean, so we didn’t put them back. We sent them across the checkpoint and released them into the sea."

"Keep going." Jian Ruochen looked around. "Get some new fish. I’ll source the first batch from the fish market. Have a TV station come film the release. Also, reinforce the fishing areas, build some walls and fences to make it a proper park. Charge a small entrance fee and make the scenery more pleasant."

Du Luoxin waved his hand. "That’s too expensive."

"For our young master, this isn’t charity—it’s a business venture." Luo Binwen interjected.

Jian Ruochen introduced, "This is my butler."

Du Luoxin: ...

B-butler?

He knew Jian Ruochen might come from a well-off family, but he hadn’t expected it to be to this extent.

"I tried the fish skin you gave me." Jian Ruochen noticed Du Luoxin looked pale, sensing his discomfort, even timidity and insecurity, so he softened his tone.

Du Luoxin clenched his fingers.

Was it not good? Not clean?

Or was there something else wrong?

Did they overstep by giving it? Was it a mistake?

"It’s very good." Jian Ruochen said calmly.

Du Luoxin looked up sharply, his eyes burning with intensity. "Really?"

"Really." Jian Ruochen stated plainly. "You could totally make it the signature dish of the fishing village. I plan to open a small fried fish skin shop in the wild fishing park. You can have your most skilled person manage the stall. Visitors who buy tickets to fish can go directly to the stall, have you process their catch, and pay a small processing fee to have it turned into fish balls or fried fish skin by weight and loss."

Du Luoxin’s eyes widened in shock.

You mean the anglers pay to fish, then hand over their catch, and pay extra to exchange it for fish skin and fish balls?

For them, the fishermen... isn’t that pure profit!

Would those anglers even agree?

"There are other ways to sell the fish skin. My butler will discuss those with you."

Jian Ruochen paused, thinking of the rural prosperity TV dramas he used to watch with the troops in the compound after dinner as a child. "When the time comes, we can paint on the south wall of the park: 'Seize the opportunity, meet the challenge, and create glory together!'"

"On the north side, write: 'Work hard to get rich, let's achieve prosperity together!'"

Luo Binwen: "..."

Du Luoxin: "..."

"This might be better suited for the village wall," Du Luoxin said tactfully.

Jian Ruochen: "Alright."

After Du Luoxin called over the village elders, Jian Ruochen returned to the car to wait while Luo Binwen finished the discussions. Over an hour later, Luo Binwen came back with several contract drafts prepared beforehand, and they went back to get them signed.

By the time everything was settled, it was just after ten o'clock.

On the way back, Jian Ruochen stopped by the new shop to check on the elderly man selling malt sugar cakes. The enthusiastic old man pulled him into a long conversation, and Jian Ruochen returned home loaded up with a bag of roasted nuts and even got to try a new treat—candied walnuts.

Crispy and sweet.

After another four or five days of rest, the summer vacation came to an end, and it was time for university to start.

Zhang Xingzong grabbed Jian Ruochen's hand, wailing over-dramatically, "How can you just go back to school? What will we do without you?"

Jian Ruochen laughed helplessly, "You got along fine before me, and it’s not like I’ll never be back."

Though he said that, the start of the semester kept him swamped.

Jian Ruochen truly had no time to visit the police station for a full week. He didn’t even have time to participate in the final procedures of transferring Oliver Keith to the court, only catching a glimpse of Oliver Keith’s dazed and disheveled face on television.

Life, aside from being busy, was eerily calm—until five Art Department students collectively stood on the rooftop of their dormitory.

Jian Ruochen was eating at a casual restaurant downstairs at the time.

The West Kowloon Region Police Station received his call immediately—

"Detective Guan," Jian Ruochen raised his voice, "There’s a group suicide attempt at Hong Kong University! The dorm building is about seven stories high—get the fire department here!"

The Art Department at Hong Kong University wasn't particularly stressful; most of the students were from rich families.

Their lives were comfortable and pleasant—why would they want to jump?