Chapter 176: No Need to Do Everything Yourself

Chapter 176: No Need to Do Everything Yourself

Guan Yingjun’s thumb caressed the back of Jian Ruochen’s hand as he glanced at the shops they passed.

It was high noon, and sunlight streamed between the towering buildings, casting a dazzling golden glow on the windowpanes.

The white-backed, red-painted signs, some new, some old, had neon lights that appeared a dull gray under the sun. The metal frames supporting them, eroded by wind and rain, bore rust stains, leaving reddish-yellow streaks on the white backdrops.

Despite the scorching heat, Causeway Bay’s commercial street buzzed with activity. The closer they got to the mall, the denser the crowds became. British women, parasols in hand, clicked along in high heels and cool sundresses, their wrists laden with large and small shopping bags as they delicately navigated the pedestrian street.

Guan Yingjun pulled Jian Ruochen along, quickening their pace into the throng. They hurried towards the mall, then ducked into a jewelry store connected to it.

Jian Ruochen peered out through the screen of sales staff and customers. “Bao Jiayun isn’t following us. Was he that easy to shake off?”

“He wasn’t really trying. Bao Jiayun just returned to Hong Kong from the UK and isn’t familiar with the current situation here. Otherwise, he’d be more cautious.” As he spoke, Guan Yingjun took out a small sealed bag and placed the business card inside.

Jian Ruochen mused, “Someone in this line of work returning to Hong Kong at a time like this…”

Under the concerted efforts of the West Kowloon Region Police, Hong Kong’s Triad societies were now on high alert, desperately trying to keep a low profile.

Some had disbanded, others had fled, some were imprisoned, and others faced reckoning.

Those who remained in Hong Kong wished they could sprout wings and fly away tomorrow. Why would anyone rush back at such a time?

Were they truly that out of touch with reality?

The two browsed the jewelry store for a while. Jian Ruochen casually picked out two simple band rings, paid for them, and gave one to Guan Yingjun. After spending about fifteen minutes, they left the store, cut through the mall, made a half-circle detour, and returned to the vicinity of the barbershop.

Guan Yingjun pondered for a moment, then took off his hat and placed it on Jian Ruochen’s head, shielding his glaringly shiny scalp from the sunlight.

Using nearby stacked debris and the steel bars on the wall securing the air conditioning units, the two climbed up, quickly reaching the second-floor rooftop of the building adjacent to the barbershop.

Next to the barbershop was a restaurant whose owner kept a flock of pigeons on the roof. A wire mesh enclosed a section of the rooftop, stacked layer by layer to form a square pigeon coop that emitted a faint odor of poultry.

Jian Ruochen crouched behind the roof’s waterproof flashing, peering toward the barbershop.

In broad daylight, the curtains on the second floor of the barbershop were drawn, the side windows were closed, and the rolling shutter at the back was half-lowered.

Soon, someone emerged from under the partially open shutter, carrying something, and tossed it onto the ground with a clatter. It was one of the other customers from earlier, present when Jian Ruochen got his haircut.

The man’s eyes were downcast, and as he tilted his head to light a cigarette, a scar on his temple became visible. After taking a drag by the back door, he shivered, let out a pleased groan, and called inside, “Good stuff, Ninth Brother.”

“Last of it. Once it’s sold, we’re leaving. Hong Kong’s cracking down hard these days,” Ninth Brother replied.

The man kicked the basket on the ground. “Leave? Go where? To get a haircut in the UK?”

The basket was filled with hair clippings. The kick sent some flying, a mix of black and white strands that looked unsettling.

Ninth Brother bent down, stepped out from under the shutter, picked up the basket of hair, and dumped it all into a large metal barrel. He then grabbed a plastic bucket nearby, poured oil into the barrel, struck a match, and tossed it in.

Instantly, flames leaped up, illuminating both their faces.

The man with the cigarette narrowed his eyes, took a slow drag, and stared intently at the fire. “Why burn it?”

Ninth Brother said, “Just in case. If the police get their hands on this hair for testing, do you think you’d be safe?”

“Heh.” The man chuckled. “You should worry more about your cousin.”

Ninth Brother’s expression turned cold instantly. “He just got back. He still thinks Hong Kong is the same as it was ten years ago.”

“Was that guy today really not Jian Ruochen?”

As they spoke, the cigarette was already half-smoked.

The man’s expression grew increasingly distant. He seemed unsteady on his feet, leaning against the wall as he took quicker, more urgent puffs.

“Can’t say for sure.” Ninth Brother’s brow furrowed slightly.

From his demeanor, he didn’t seem like the Consultant Jian who could strike fear into people’s hearts.

But Jian Ruochen had taken down so many top criminals—he was clearly no simple man. It wouldn’t be surprising if he was deceptive.

“How… can’t say for sure? I feel… feel like you’ve been very discreet. Only repeat customers who’ve been here more than ten times can even get a connection.” The man half-closed his eyes, savoring one last drag before tossing the cigarette butt into the fire barrel, basking in the final warmth.

Ninth Brother fell silent.

He believed that.

Thinking back, his little barbershop had been inspected by the Hong Kong Royal Police at least ten times. From initial suspicion to eventual trust, they’d even reached the point where they could cut the officers’ hair.

At this point, it seemed impeccable.

Even if the Police Force showed up, they might not find anything wrong.

What could Jian Ruochen possibly uncover?

The main area was clean—nothing drug-related in sight. It was a legitimate barbershop, even the hair washers were legitimately hired barbers, all male.

Ninth Brother relaxed. “Want more?”

“Yeah, a hundred thousand dollars’ worth.” The man pulled out a stack of thousand-Hong Kong dollar bills. “How much product do you have left?”

Ninth Brother took the money, pulled a metal cigarette case from his pocket, and slapped it into the man’s hand. “It’s all in there. Don’t ask questions. Raw materials are hard to come by now—the supply chain from Myanmar is cut, and the factories are too scared to operate. The situation is tense. After you finish this… either come with us abroad or quit by yourself.”

Jian Ruochen listened, putting the pieces together.

Bao Jiayun returned to Hong Kong not to expand the drug trade here, but to help his cousin make one last profit before fleeing overseas.

In the period leading up to the handover, many Triad members had indeed fled to neighboring countries to avoid punishment—some changing their nationalities, others becoming undocumented immigrants.

Now, with intelligence networks dismantled and a decade-long talent relocation plan completely failed, the Triads were growing restless and uncontrollable.

“What about my hair?” Jian Ruochen turned his head.

“In my pocket.” Guan Yingjun patted his pants pocket. He immediately understood Jian Ruochen’s concern. “Hair without roots can’t be used for DNA testing. No one can plant them at a crime scene to frame someone.”

He turned to look at Jian Ruochen, lowering his voice. “Pay attention in your criminal investigation classes at the police academy. I’ll find time to…”

The Chief Superintendent was busy—he might not have the time.

Guan Yingjun paused, then returned to the topic of framing. “It’ll be fine.”

Jian Ruochen hesitated, changing the subject back. “How long has this barbershop been here?”

“Over ten years.” As Guan Yingjun spoke, he suddenly froze, pulling Jian Ruochen close.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jian Ruochen saw Ninth Brother suddenly look up, staring directly at them across the dying flames.

In that instant.

Jian Ruochen's ears were filled only with the cooing of pigeons.

He held his breath, his whole body huddled under the waterproof ledge, momentarily hearing only the dull thudding of his own heart.

Footsteps echoed from downstairs.

Ninth Brother approached the restaurant, tapped on the window, and said to the owner who peeked out from the kitchen, “Uncle, your pigeons up on the roof are cooing really loudly. Are they out of food? Go check quickly. I’ve heard there are a lot of people stealing pigeons to cook at home lately.”

“Oh, haha, how could that be? Definitely not from our place. Our balcony’s locked,” the old man chuckled. “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll go check later. If none are missing, I’ll stew one up for you to taste.”

Ninth Brother laughed softly.

Guan Yingjun signaled, and Jian Ruochen immediately stood up, hunching over as he took a few steps back. After confirming that even if he stood up, he wouldn’t be seen by Ninth Brother pressed against the building downstairs, he glanced back toward the base of the building.

Fortunately, the gap between the buildings was only an arm’s span wide—dark, damp, and deserted.

Too bad there were no footholds for climbing.

But two floors weren’t that high; jumping for it was doable.

Just as Jian Ruochen had this thought, Guan Yingjun suddenly bolted up, rushing over. He gripped the edge of the floor, lowered himself, then pushed off the wall, landing noiselessly in the alley before spreading his arms.

Guan Yingjun mouthed silently: Jump.

From downstairs came Ninth Brother's voice: “Uncle, since I don’t have much going on at my shop, let me feed the pigeons for you. You’re busy. I used to do this often as a kid, I’m good at it.”

Jian Ruochen even heard the jingling of keys.

It seemed the door to the balcony was about to open.

He hesitated no longer, jumping down straight into Guan Yingjun’s outstretched arms.

Guan Yingjun caught him, spinning around to cushion the impact before setting him down. “Let’s go!”

This area wasn’t the busiest part of Causeway Bay. After weaving through narrow alleys, passing a few dessert shops and food stalls, and brushing by some street vendors, the two finally relaxed their expressions. They came to a stop under a street-side awning, looked at each other and laughed.

Guan Yingjun’s forehead was beaded with sweat. “I’ll have Ji Bailou arrange someone to tail them.”

“Him?” Jian Ruochen paused. “He doesn’t have any other cases on hand?”

“Not for now,” Guan Yingjun said, pulling out his phone as he searched for the number. “After finishing up with the drugs hidden by the Lu family, he started his vacation.”

This was Ji Bailou’s longest break in eight years. When he received the call from his former close friend and now superior, he was in the middle of handling a blind date arranged by his family.

Before coming, he’d been dismissive. After arriving, he realized men might just be animals easily controlled by hormones. He could fully understand now how Guan Yingjun felt when he zoned out looking at Jian Ruochen.

The girl was a returnee from overseas who studied music, her curly hair cascading down her back, covering it entirely. She was now a music instructor at the Hong Kong Open University.

She asked softly, “Is your work busy?”

Ji Bailou replied, “It’s alright. Probably won’t be busy later. When I’m not busy, I’ll have more time to spend together.”

As he spoke, his palms were sweating from nervousness, his fingers trembling. He felt he might be experiencing love at first sight.

Just as he finished speaking, his phone rang.

Guan Yingjun said, “There’s drug trafficking at the barbershop at 69 Shuangqing District, Causeway Bay. Get someone to tail it.”

Ji Bailou, seeing the teasing look on the girl’s face across from him, wished he could challenge Guan Yingjun to a one-on-one fight. He lowered his voice, “Seriously, sir? I’m busy right now.”

Before Guan Yingjun could respond, he heard the rich sound of a saxophone from a gramophone through the receiver. He paused slightly, “Are you on a date?”

Ji Bailou hesitated, “It’s our first meeting.”

Guan Yingjun then said, “Then don’t forget to come for dinner tonight. I’ll assign someone else to handle the Causeway Bay matter.”

Ji Bailou hung up, feeling a bit dazed.

In the past, even if Guan Yingjun didn’t say it, he would’ve definitely considered the case more important than a blind date. Emotions were as light as a feather in his eyes. He would’ve thought it foolish for someone to turn down a temporarily assigned task for the sake of feelings.

After all, every task was an opportunity for promotion.

Who would’ve thought that in just two years, Guan Yingjun would become so understanding, so... human.

Little God of Wealth deserved much of the credit.

The girl smiled and asked, “Do you need to go to work?”

Ji Bailou said, “No, my buddy is hosting... a banquet.”

They were introduced by their parents, both families worked in the police system, so they knew each other’s backgrounds and were well-matched.

They exchanged a glance, both understanding exactly what kind of banquet it was and who was hosting it for whom.

·

Guan Yingjun assigned the task to Group D of the Narcotics Division under CID.

The new official handing down cases so soon settled the nerves within CIB.

“You said he’d come in with three fires burning as a new official? No way. Detective Guan hates playing political games. When he led Group A in CID, he relied on merit.”

“He doesn’t micromanage, but if we mess up the task, we’ll all suffer. Stop joking around and get to work.”

“Speaking of CID... isn’t Lu Rong’s public first trial at 3 PM this afternoon?”

“Yeah, but after watching Lu Qian’s public trial, I’ve lost interest in public hearings. Their charges are too long; listening is a waste of time.”

“Consultant Jian is truly capable. Lu Rong is now a stray dog! It’s so satisfying to see.”

“Hey, the media outside are singing his praises, calling him the future shining light of Hong Kong’s police force! Honestly... if I were him, with all that wealth, I’d never be so misguided as to become a policeman.”

“No time to spend with mom and dad, no time for romance.”

“He’s very professional as a psychological consultant, but who knows what he’ll be like as a policeman? Though criminal psychology is more useful than I thought. His reputation in Hong Kong isn’t unfounded media hype.”

Another person counted on his fingers: “Marksmanship, courage, determination, knowledge—is there anything Jian Ruochen isn’t top-notch at? Though I’m a bit jealous, he truly deserves it.”

After some banter, they changed into bulletproof vests, covered them with plain clothes, and the lead Inspector finally said in a low voice, “Barbershop at 69 Shuangqing District, Causeway Bay. Ninth Brother. Selling smokeable drugs disguised as cigarettes.”

“If you see the person, avoid conversation. The suspect is very alert. We only tail, no contact.”

Once everyone confirmed the task, they dispersed.

·

On the other side.

After assigning the tasks, Guan Yingjun went home with Jian Ruochen to change out of their sweat-soaked clothes and shower.

Jian Ruochen felt somewhat uneasy with the loss of control that came with entrusting tasks entirely to others. Sitting in the bathtub, he spaced out, worrying about the progress of the mission.

Guan Yingjun lifted him to sit on the edge of the bathtub, using the showerhead to rinse the stray hairs from Jian Ruochen's head thoroughly. He said in a low voice, “You’ve risen to a higher position now. You don’t need to handle everything personally. Delegate the simple, small tasks to your subordinates and step in only when major decisions need to be made.”

Jian Ruochen leaned back slowly against Guan Yingjun’s waist and abdomen. “You’re the Chief Superintendent now…” He still wasn’t quite used to it and asked softly, “What if they mess up?”

“If they mess up, it proves they aren’t cut out for this job.” Guan Yingjun cupped Jian Ruochen’s neck gently, his voice husky. “Don’t lean back—we have to go for dinner at six.”

Jian Ruochen, feeling something pressing against the back of his head, edged forward. “You go take your shower now.”