Chapter 144: Jealousy

Chapter 144 Jealousy

"What to wear?"

Jian Ruochen had never considered it.

Chinese police officers are forbidden from wearing any accessories unrelated to their duties while on official business.

But he recalled that Hong Kong seemed to have less stringent regulations.

The car was a bit warm, and the slightest movement would make the well-worn passenger seat creak and wobble.

Jian Ruochen, sidestepping the question, said, "You should really get a new car."

This one was truly showing its age.

The side mirror casing was covered in scratches, and there was a coin-sized dent on the front side of the car—no one knew where it had been dinged.

Guan Yingjun offered a helpless smile. "No need, it’s barely been a year and a half."

They had known each other for just a year, yet they shared a rapport usually found after a lifetime together.

This past year had been incredibly eventful.

"I remember Hong Kong police officers are allowed to wear plain rings. Maybe we could wait a bit… until we can wear them, then wear them," Jian Ruochen said softly, turning his head to watch the crowds outside the car.

The area was bustling with people.

Guan Yingjun’s car had privacy film on the side windows, but the front windshield was so immaculately clean that anyone outside could see everything inside at a glance.

He swallowed, a sudden nervousness rising within him, though he knew he was prepared to be seen. This made his anxiety tinged with a strange clarity and calm.

Guan Yingjun didn’t know when that "until we can wear them" moment would actually arrive.

He straightened up and sat in silence for a while.

He wondered how the mainland viewed same-sex relationships.

He questioned whether such a relationship would impact Jian Ruochen’s future.

If Jian Ruochen were to simply remain Commissioner of the Police Force, then his romantic life would indeed be his own affair.

But recalling the three-hour unanswered call on the 7th, he understood that the mainland wouldn't be content with Jian Ruochen merely serving as Commissioner.

In a region where talent was urgently needed, Jian Ruochen was an exceptional and utterly trustworthy choice.

As he pondered this, he cast a sidelong glance at Jian Ruochen’s face.

"What are you looking at?" Jian Ruochen raised a hand to touch his face, asking with a smile, "Why aren't we going home?"

Guan Yingjun pulled the handbrake, shifted gears, and drove off. "What do you want for dinner tonight?"

"Curry egg fried rice." Jian Ruochen had recently developed a fondness for all sorts of egg fried rice.

The egg fried rice he’d shared with the official that day was so delicious it lingered in his memory.

So, when the Toyota passed the market outside Lan Kwai Fong, Guan Yingjun stopped to buy groceries before heading back to Bauhinia Apartments.

The past two days had been unusually quiet in Hong Kong; no major violent incidents had occurred, allowing the Major Crimes Unit to enjoy their full seven-day vacation in peace.

This level of calm was uncharacteristic for Hong Kong in previous years.

Jian Ruochen ate the fragrant curry fried rice, somewhat disdainfully pushing the vegetables to the side. "Why did you put vegetables in the fried rice?"

"If I didn't, you wouldn't eat them," Guan Yingjun replied, placing a plate of plain, blanched vegetables in front of his own bowl. "Want to share these with me?"

Jian Ruochen picked the vegetables he’d pushed aside back into his rice, muttering, "Politely declined, thanks."

Guan Yingjun chuckled.

He had noticed that Jian Ruochen was very good at maintaining an imposing demeanor in public.

To assert his authority and command respect, he would preemptively position himself in a higher place—a protective shell he built around himself.

But in private, with those he truly trusted, he was just a normal university student.

It was endearing, making one’s heart soften.

The more you understood him, the more you liked him.

How was it only the 10th?

Intense emotions churned in his chest, though Guan Yingjun showed nothing on his face, eating calmly and expressionlessly.

The living room television was broadcasting the news.

"Recently, an armed robbery occurred at a gold store in Repulse Bay, Hong Kong Island, resulting in losses exceeding 20 million Hong Kong dollars. During the pursuit, the Hong Kong Royal Police engaged in a shootout with the robbers. Three people were injured at the scene, including a pregnant passerby who is in critical condition. Two Repulse Bay patrol officers were shot in the head by the robbers while maintaining order and died instantly… Stay tuned for detailed on-site coverage."

Jian Ruochen instinctively looked up, his gaze drawn to the screen.

On-site reporter: "As we can see, the gold store is currently in complete disarray. All glass counters have been shattered, and there are several bullet holes in the walls, indicating just how intense the confrontation was."

"Scattered across the floor are small gold jewelry items, mostly earrings and pendants, while larger items were swept clean."

"With gold prices currently trending downward, it’s unclear why the robbers targeted gold. We’ve invited an economics expert for further analysis."

On the TV screen, figures from the Forensics department working within the police line flashed by before cutting back to the studio.

An expert in a suit sat upright at the desk.

The host continued, "Professor Yang has studied gold trends for many years. What are your thoughts on this?"

"Although gold prices are declining, gold has always been a form of currency since ancient times," Professor Yang said, chest puffed with confidence. "Hong Kong is currently undergoing significant public security reforms, which have reduced many gray areas. With fewer avenues for societal fringe elements to earn money after the crackdowns, they may resort to alternative methods."

The expert, surnamed Yang, secretly gloated; these empty-headed female anchors were so easy to manipulate. With a little rhetoric, he could easily achieve his goal.

The host chuckled. "So are you suggesting that reducing gray-area income has actually led to an increase in crimes like robbery? That it’s an overcorrection?"

"Ah, I never said that," the expert, surnamed Yang, replied smugly. "But gray-area income can also help people preserve their dignity and remain respectable. Choosing to earn this type of income is their freedom and right. After all, Hong Kong is a place that values human rights."

Jian Ruochen raised an eyebrow, his rice-eating pace slowing slightly.

Aside from socialist countries, human rights in most capitalist systems are merely political constructs, empty promises crafted by those in power.

Expert Yang casually veered off topic a bit before quickly returning to the subject: "Although the price of gold continues to decline and is unlikely to appreciate in the short term, it remains the fastest and most liquid form of currency for fencing stolen goods. This may be why the robbers chose to target gold."

The host of Hong Kong Metro News TV chuckled softly: "You just mentioned that getting gray income is a freedom and right of the people. So tell me, do Hong Kong Royal Police patrol officers also have the right to survive being shot at by robbers?"

Expert Yang froze, his mouth hanging open awkwardly, his expression stiff.

He never expected the smiling TV host to pose such a question.

Just moments ago, this woman had followed his lead and even used the phrase "overcorrection"!

Was she deliberately playing along just to counterattack at this moment?

A chill ran down Expert Yang’s spine. He forced a laugh and said, "Naturally, they do. Shooting is overly aggressive and unacceptable…"

Jian Ruochen finished his last bite of rice: "This host is quite sharp. If we could recruit her to STN…"

Guan Yingjun paused while clearing the table. "STN already has plenty of news prodigies."

Jian Ruochen was the biggest news prodigy of them all.

A master at manipulating public opinion.

"You should leave some talent for your competitors. Metro News is under Gu Youming’s media company," Guan Yingjun remarked.

Jian Ruochen thought of Gu Youming, who wore gold-rimmed glasses and exuded the refined yet unscrupulous charm of a middle-aged man. "Well, let’s leave her to him then."

He leaned against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, watching Guan Yingjun wash the dishes, and commented on Gu Youming: "Gu Youming has a much sharper economic sense than Lu Rong. He decisively and immediately withdrew from Hong Kong as soon as I inherited the family business."

"I just invested 5.9 billion in the mainland, and he immediately followed suit, listing the assets he had transferred out and funneling them into the mainland to seize opportunities in the financial market and establish a foothold."

"He also has political guts. At a time when many people are trying to flee Hong Kong, he gave up his Hong Kong identity and switched directly to a Sichuan origin. The key is, he has real class and doesn’t break the law."

Jian Ruochen concluded: "He’s someone worth being friends with."

Guan Yingjun felt a twitch at his temple.

He rinsed the soap suds from his fingers, a sudden sense of unease washing over him.

Jian Ruochen was just too outstanding, making him feel inadequate.

Guan Yingjun turned on the water again, scrubbing the sink. "Gu Youming is 38 this year."

Jian Ruochen paused. "Hmm."

From this angle, he could see the well-defined muscles of Guan Yingjun’s back flexing as he worked.

After a moment’s thought, Jian Ruochen quietly slipped off his shoes and tiptoed barefoot to Guan Yingjun’s side, stealing a glance at his expression.

Oh. He’s jealous because I praised another man.

And he knows it’s unreasonable, so he’s keeping it to himself, silently scrubbing the already spotless sink.

Guan Yingjun’s personality could be quite endearing at times.

Jian Ruochen could roughly deduce Guan Yingjun’s thoughts—it was simply that Gu Youming was too wealthy, and so was he, making Guan Yingjun feel somewhat insecure.

But Guan Yingjun was actually pretty wealthy himself.

The salary he turned over hadn’t been left idle; it was mixed into the assets managed by Uncle Luo and had likely multiplied several times by now.

At the very least, it amounted to 50 million.

Fifty million—he certainly hadn’t earned that much in his previous life.

Noticing Jian Ruochen barefoot on the cold tiles, Guan Yingjun immediately dropped the cleaning tools, hastily washed his hands, and scooped him up. "It’s been autumn for a while now. Cold starts from the feet—remember to wear shoes."

Jian Ruochen laughed helplessly. "You’re stricter than my dad."

Guan Yingjun remained silent.

Jian Ruochen leaned close to his ear. "At least Gu Youming doesn’t care whether others wear shoes on the tiles. You really care about me."

Guan Yingjun’s heart felt as if it had been drenched in molten iron.

Scalding, boiling.

Ever since he realized his feelings for Jian Ruochen last year, he knew.

From then on, rationality would always take a back seat.

If Jian Ruochen said even a word to coax him, he was done for.

How is it only the 10th?

He didn’t think he could hold out until the 11th.

Guan Yingjun held Jian Ruochen, standing at the kitchen doorway for a moment, then reluctantly set him down, his voice hoarse. "Don’t coax me. Put on your shoes and go do some work. Half of that case file in the study still needs reviewing. I’m going to take a shower."

"Not today." Jian Ruochen hopped down and slipped his feet into slippers. "It’s still hot today."

He was drenched in sweat.

"I’ll shower first." He walked toward the bathroom, tugging at the hem of his shirt as he went, completely unconcerned.

Once the bathtub was filled, he stepped in and leaned against the edge, peering out.

The frosted glass on the bathroom door outlined Guan Yingjun’s figure. After a moment, a voice came from outside: "Did you deliberately forget to bring a change of clothes?"

Jian Ruochen laughed lightly, his voice drifting through the slightly ajar door. "Yeah."

The little troublemaker in his heart preened with satisfaction.

Guan Yingjun was a man of his word—if he said he’d wait until tomorrow, he meant it.

If he didn’t tease him today, he’d still pay the price tomorrow for a year’s worth of teasing.

Might as well have his fun today!

Otherwise… Jian Ruochen’s mind flashed back to the pulp novels he’d browsed at flea markets with his classmates in his previous life.

If he didn’t have his fill of fun today, wouldn’t he be at a huge loss tomorrow?

As a man, he knew himself well enough.

Jian Ruochen called out to the door, "Can you go get my clothes for me?"