Chapter 158: Eat Eat Eat

Chapter 158: Eating, Eating, Eating

“You caught him?” Jian Ruochen asked.

The congee was still hot, with the preserved egg and pork shreds stewed to tenderness, melting away with a gentle press and sliding smoothly down the throat.

As he spoke, the aroma rose from his mouth into his nasal cavity, making his head dizzy.

“Century egg,” Jian Ruochen said, staring at the largest piece of century egg yolk.

Guan Yingjun scooped it up and fed it to him. “Not yet. The hard drive you obtained recorded every sum of money Lu Rong laundered through the casino. To prevent him from having extra energy to transfer assets or destroy evidence, we find excuses to call him in to the interrogation room every day, keeping him there for eight hours.”

Lu Rong was just one person, but the Major Crimes Unit had 105 members in total.

The eight-hour limit was the law’s protection of Lu Rong, but it was by no means the Major Crimes Unit’s limit.

“This procedure will continue until the evidence chain is complete.” Guan Yingjun tidied up the used bowls and chopsticks, then got a hot towel ready for Jian Ruochen to wipe his face and rinse his mouth.

Jian Ruochen sat upright like a doll, letting Guan Yingjun carefully care for him.

The scalding towel pressed against his face made him warm and comfortable, with every pore opening up, and the presence of the wound on his shoulder seemed much less noticeable.

Guan Yingjun pressed his lips together, watching, then dipped the towel back into the hot water, scrubbed it, and wrung it out, his fingers turning bright red from the heat.

No one knew how terrified he was when he saw Jian Ruochen faint in his arms.

No one knew how panicked he felt when the military salute appeared before him, shattering his long-standing self-deception.

It wasn’t multiple personality disorder—the soul inside the shell had truly been replaced.

So absurd, yet impossible to deny.

Extremely unsettling.

Unprecedented torment and fear burned like fire, tearing him apart inside, making him feel as if sitting on pins and needles.

He had been living like a walking corpse these past two days, dazed and confused, as if half his soul had been carved out and left with Jian Ruochen.

Until Jian Ruochen gently kissed him.

Guan Yingjun left the hospital room, carrying water in one hand and a changed trash bag in the other.

Two burly bodyguards stood guard at the door, their expressions unreadable.

Although rationally they knew Guan Yingjun was a stable and loyal choice, emotionally they still struggled to accept the young master liking someone else.

This sentiment wasn’t directed at anyone in particular—anyone the young master fancied would inevitably rub them the wrong way.

Guan Yingjun threw away the trash, leaned against the wall in the washroom to catch his breath, and suddenly felt exhausted.

These past two days, he had only slept three or four hours each night, plagued by nightmares whenever he closed his eyes. Now that he saw Jian Ruochen safe, the tension he had been holding suddenly eased.

Guan Yingjun filled a cup with cold water and drank it down, then went out to buy some sweet snacks before returning to the hospital room. As soon as he sat down, his phone vibrated.

Jian Ruochen, holding several bowl cakes on a bamboo skewer, mumbled a reminder, “Your phone.”

Guan Yingjun acknowledged, raised his hand to answer, “Hello?”

“Detective Guan, how is Consultant Jian?” Chen Jincai asked.

“He’s out of danger,” Guan Yingjun replied, his voice low and hoarse, with an unusual softness compared to the previous two days.

Chen Jincai quietly sighed in relief. “We received news from Kowloon Prison. Jiang Hanyu was so enraged after seeing the noon news today that he coughed up blood in the prison cafeteria. They want to know if we have any further questions for him. Jiang Hanyu’s health is poor—he might not make it to the end of his sentence.”

Guan Yingjun said flatly, “No, go check the interrogation recordings from last year—the ones conducted by Jian Ruochen.”

Without waiting for Chen Jincai’s response, he hung up.

Jian Ruochen chewed the bowl cake gently. “What’s wrong? Did Sir Chen run into trouble? Or did one of the prisoners I interrogated cause problems?”

“It’s nothing,” Guan Yingjun chuckled softly. “Kowloon Prison called. Jiang Hanyu suddenly coughed up blood and might not make it. They asked if we had anything else to interrogate him about. I said no.” Guan Yingjun left the rest unsaid.

Jian Ruochen said “Oh.”

Perhaps because he had just eaten salty congee, the bowl cakes on the skewer tasted exceptionally sweet.

Fragrant, sticky, and chewy, they brought immense joy with every bite.

Jiang Hanyu had caused the original host’s death and had tried to kill him too.

His failure wasn’t due to a sudden pang of conscience—it was because Jian Ruochen had joined the West Kowloon police unit.

If it were the Jian Ruochen from the novel, he would likely have been completely destroyed, devoured by the Jiang and Lu families, wrapped in a sack, and sunk into Pier 8, just like in the original story.

“I’ve made those who harmed you suffer everything you endured.”

Jian Ruochen thought silently to the original host, “I’ve also avenged your mother. Only Lu Rong remains—he won’t end well either.”

He didn’t know where the original host had gone.

But Preludin affects the mind and conflicts with caffeine.

When he first arrived, Luo Binwen was discussing inheritance matters with the original host in a café, where coffee had been served.

The original host had likely ingested excessive caffeine shortly after taking the “fake vitamin B,” leading to loss of consciousness and cardiac arrest.

He had already been tortured to death by Oliver Keith, Lu Rong, Lu Qian, and Jiang Hanyu.

Jian Ruochen paused for a moment, then turned to Guan Yingjun. “I can’t eat any more.”

There was still one and a half bowl cakes left on the skewer.

Guan Yingjun took it as he usually did and ate them in one bite.

His actions were natural and routine, but as he ate, his eyes fixed intently on Jian Ruochen, as if wanting to devour the person before him whole.

Jian Ruochen averted his gaze, his ear tips burning hot.

On the fourth day in the hospital.

Jian Ruochen could no longer stand the feeling of being watched while sitting in bed.

Guan Yingjun and Luo Binwen were working in shifts—one watching during the day, the other at night, with various visitors bringing gifts and good wishes in between.

Du Luoxin came with people from the fishing village, bringing fish ball and fish offal soup.

Fish are rich in nutrients, which are beneficial for wound healing.

The fishing village folks have a unique way of cooking fish; the broth is milky white and fragrant, swirling with golden egg ribbons and plump, broth-soaked fish balls. The fish chunks and meat floating in the broth are all boneless—who knows how many fish it took to make such a bowl of soup.

Jian Ruochen couldn’t bear to let their kindness go to waste, so he dug in.

Five students from the School of Dance at Hong Kong University's Art Department, who had jumped because of Preludin use, came to visit, led by Guan Ziqi and Han Beibei.

The young women, bursting with youthful energy, crowded into the hospital room with rosy cheeks. After some time in rehab, there was no sign of the mess brought on by drug dependency.

They first thanked Jian Ruochen, chatted briefly, left behind specially arranged bouquets and fruits in the room, and then slipped quietly out of the room.

Surrounded by the scent of flowers, Jian Ruochen couldn’t bear to waste the girls' kindness, so he asked Guan Yingjun to slice up the apples and watermelon, and he ate heartily.

By the ninth day, when the stitches were removed, the attending physician looked at his slightly protruding little potbelly and laughed.

Jian Ruochen pressed his lips together.

He hadn’t expected that over the past year, he had saved so many people, and every one of them was grateful and showed it by bringing gifts to visit him.

During these ten days in the hospital, the mainland chef at his home had been utterly idle, bored out of his mind, doing push-ups in the garden of the hilltop villa to keep fit.

The clink of metal tools on a medical tray echoed in the room.

The doctor said, "Removing the stitches doesn’t mean you’re fully healed. Keep the wound dry for 21 days, take care of it, stick to the light diet you've had here, and most importantly, rest well. No staying up late to work."

Jian Ruochen gave an "Oh."

The doctor knew he was sick and tired of resting and that his response was less than sincere, so he calmly added, "I’ll have Detective Guan keep an eye on you, and I’ll also give more detailed instructions to your Uncle Luo."

Jian Ruochen had no choice but to nod and reply earnestly, "I understand."

This long break stretched from December 23, 1993, straight through to February 14, 1994.

Jian Ruochen comfortably extended his rest through the spring break at home before returning to school.

While he was leisurely recuperating through the New Year, no one in the Major Crimes Unit went home.

Everyone was working overtime, sorting and sifting through the materials and evidence seized from the casino.

There was too much, too comprehensive.

It felt endless, utterly endless.

The evidence related to Lu Rong alone filled five cardboard boxes, all containing proof of his money laundering.

West Kowloon had been investigating the Lu family for five years, never imagining they would finally obtain ironclad evidence of Lu Rong’s money laundering and embezzlement of public funds at the Victoria Harbour Union Casino in central Kowloon.

The Victoria Harbour Union Casino had been operating for over a century; it was less like a casino and more like a "concession" for the English.

Hong Kong’s laws seemed entirely unenforceable within its walls.

The casino was a tightly sealed fortress, with each floor requiring money exchanged for chips as the price of admission.

In the past, police funding was scarce, making investigations financially strained, with no resources for undercover operations.

This time, when someone with a bomb threatened to jump from the building, neither Team B nor Team C could reach the upper floors immediately—they had to wait for the casino’s management to escort them up.

If not for Jian Ruochen,

Li Feiquan would never have agreed to become an informant for West Kowloon.

Without his cooperation, West Kowloon wouldn’t have received the tip about the armed fight on the casino’s third floor, and they wouldn’t have obtained evidence of Lu Rong’s money laundering.

Moreover, no one else could have secured the hard drive from the top floor under such circumstances.

Only Jian Ruochen, who ran an electronics tech company, knew where the hard drive was and how to remove it.

Any other officer sent up there would have met only one fate—death on the top floor.

The officers of the West Kowloon Major Crimes Unit were determined not to let the efforts of Jian Ruochen and Team A go to waste, given how hard-won this evidence was.

They had to seize this opportunity.

Now, with the Little God of Wealth absent from the station for over two months, the Major Crimes Unit directed their frustration at Lu Rong during his routine interrogations.

In the interrogation room,

Chen Jincai looked at Lu Rong, who was leaning back in his chair with eyes closed, refusing to say a word, and sneered, "Do you think staying silent will make everything go away?"

Lu Rong pressed his lips tightly together.

His hands trembled involuntarily as he coldly stated, "You can speak with my lawyer."

Chen Jincai smirked. "Jian Ruochen will be back at the station soon."

Lu Rong’s pupils dilated abruptly.

His current misery was entirely thanks to Jian Ruochen!

If Jian Ruochen hadn’t competed with him for the land near Kowloon Walled City,

If Kang Nate hadn’t supported Gu Youming,

If…

There were too many "ifs" tied to him!

Darkness clouded Lu Rong’s vision.

Chen Jincai intensified the pressure: "Victoria Harbour Union Casino in central Kowloon—a human bomb jumping from the top floor, an armed fight on the third."

He paused. "Casino fights are usually covered up; no one reports them. But you must have known about the fight on the third floor."

Because Li Feiquan had disappeared.

Lu Rong could no longer reach him.

Now, Li Feiquan’s entire family had been relocated to the mainland, removed from the center of the conflict, free to live peacefully as honest people.

Chen Jincai spoke boldly: "Lu Rong, did you know? Li Feiquan, the one helping you launder money, was actually working for Jian Ruochen."

Lu Rong’s face changed dramatically.

Chen Jincai added fuel to the fire: "Consultant Jian will return to West Kowloon tomorrow after his exam. If you don’t want to talk to us, you can save it for him."