Jokes were one thing, but that very night, Sister-in-law He, after deep reflection, realized that he had been infatuated with the Boss’s boundless tenderness for some time now. Overcome by desire, his mind had been clouded. He couldn’t continue taking such risks. So, early the next morning, despite his reluctance, he persuaded the Boss to leave.
After resting and recovering for over a month, the Boss was able to walk. A few days later, he simply applied for discharge and moved into an apartment in a building close to his own company—one arranged by Master Qiao himself. By doing so, he deliberately placed himself under the old man’s surveillance, putting his mind at ease.
Sure enough, even though Master Qiao enjoyed counting money, under the advisor’s persistent urging, he still installed several listening devices throughout the apartment. On the very night He Chu San moved in, he and Kevin searched the rooms thoroughly—finding one in the living room, one in the study, and, most helplessly, one in the bedroom.
—After all, Master Qiao had already witnessed them tangled together. Two lone men sharing a room day and night—sooner or later, the inevitable clash would occur.
That very night, they could only play a record of lingering love songs endlessly on the gramophone. Under this affectionate backdrop, He Chu San and Kevin sat side by side on the bed, fully clothed, speaking in hushed tones about work—yet every now and then, they would raise their voices to let out a few indecent cries and then lift their hips together to vigorously shake the bedframe.
Downstairs, Master Qiao removed his headset filled with cooing and moaning and said to the advisor beside him, “This kid’s cultured—needs music even when he’s making love!”
Since they could indulge in the sanatorium’s massage bath, naturally, they could also enjoy a romantic evening in the bedroom with love songs playing. The advisor listened intently for a while but found nothing amiss. Eventually, he removed his headset with a sigh of dissatisfaction.
Master Qiao quickly lost interest in further monitoring. He leaned on his cane and stood up. “Assign the Old Shopkeeper’s matter to him tomorrow and let’s see how he handles it. I’m going to see Sammy tonight; are you going to find your King?”
The Sammy he spoke of was a lively and adorable male escort from the brothel—fair-skinned with a firm backside and a silver tongue who knew how to chatter away with flattery. He was quite the favorite of “Daddy Qiao”, opening one door after another to a brave new world for him. The advisor, however, being a frail but staunchly straight man, had spent a nightmare of a night under King’s “service.”
He shook his head vigorously at the mere mention of the name. “No, no, no, no. After you, sir, after you.”
Master Qiao curled his lip in disapproval and walked out on his own.
Kevin fully committed to the act, laying out bedding on the floor beside He Chu San’s bed and sleeping there for the night. However, he had not recovered from the tremendous shock that “Brother Chu San is actually the top.” Exhausted and plagued by restless dreams, he had not slept well.
Early the next morning, still wearing his blue robe and eyes bleary, Kevin opened the door to receive the advisor. Seeing his utterly spent appearance, the advisor’s eyelids twitched.
“I told you to watch him. How did you end up in bed with him?” he hissed in reproach.
“He’s taken a liking to me. I couldn’t just turn against him,” Kevin said helplessly. “Advisor, please explain to Master Qiao. I’m utterly loyal! I’ve sacrificed too much here. He Chu San has no other schemes. His mind is solely focused on climbing higher and making money.”
“I think you’ve been completely deceived by him!” The advisor smacked him on the forehead.
The advisor entered the study to deliver crucial information to Consultant He. Essentially, a financial company owned by one of Master Qiao’s associates had substantial hidden funds that required “special handling,” and Consultant He was tasked with employing his ingenious methods. Simultaneously, the advisor circled around, curiously observing the miraculous methods by which Consultant He had transformed stone into gold—how the accounts were meticulously crafted, the laundering was swift and untraceable, and the stocks consistently yielded profits.
Consultant He responded:
“Xunzi once said, ‘A thousand changes, yet one Dao.’ Zhuangzi said, ‘To remain true to the root is to be one with Heaven and Man.’ Therefore, ‘Though myriad transformations arise, none depart from the origin.’ Currency and finance possess their own hidden, elusive laws. Only those destined may perceive them.”
“When I first entered this field, I was fortunate to receive guidance from a Mr. Chris De Pacino of England. He hails from an ancient and enigmatic European lineage that has served royal families for generations, even holding the position of Tyler in the enigmatic Free and Accepted Masons. This enigmatic Mr. Pacino once said…”
The advisor listened intently for over half an hour, gaining a profound sense of mystical truths—truths that seemed both lofty and vast, imbued with an indescribable depth.
He refused to acknowledge that he had been “fucked senseless” by Consultant He. Deeply contemplating, he descended to the car and started it. As it began to move, he rolled down the window and lit a cigarette. Through the drifting smoke, he noticed a massive movie poster on a building across the street—this year’s Oscar-winning film Scent of a Woman. The names Chris O’Donnell and Al Pacino were prominently displayed.
As the car continued its journey, he glanced at the passing names. They seemed oddly familiar. A ridiculous thought suddenly crossed his mind—then he shook his head vigorously, convinced that Consultant He would never dare fabricate such convincing nonsense. He lowered his head and resumed smoking, lost in thought.
……
The Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC) was an anti-corruption body entirely separate from all Hong Kong government departments. It reported directly and solely to the Governor. Its staff were contract-based, not part of the civil service system.
In the 1960s and 70s, corruption in Hong Kong had reached alarming levels. Citizens had to pay “hose fees” to summon firefighters, “tea money” for ambulances, and “protection fees” for street vendors. From official appointments to school admissions and allocation of public housing, money was indispensable.
Public outrage erupted in 1973 with the corruption and escape of Chief Superintendent Godber, leading to widespread protests. In response, the colonial government established a special investigative unit, which eventually evolved into the ICAC.
By 1993, the ICAC had three departments: Operations, Corruption Prevention, and Community Relations. The Operations Department, responsible for investigations, handled not only government corruption but also cases involving the private sector, such as the Godber case, the “Four Chief Inspectors” scandal, and corruption in stock exchange listings. It was headed by the Technical Division and Investigation Branch, with Assistant Investigators (AI) and Senior Investigators (SI) forming the core of the latter.
Lu Guang Ming, a recent promotion from AI to SI the previous year, was only twenty-five. Standing before Chief Investigator Xu, he exuded calmness and composure, unfazed by his superior’s intense gaze.
“With a case of such magnitude and serious accusations, you investigated it independently for three years and only now report to me?!” Chief Investigator Xu demanded.
“I only have evidence pointing directly to him now,” Lu Guang Ming replied.
“And what kind of evidence is this? A financial company registered under someone else’s name proves what? A triad money-laundering operation—how does that connect to him personally? You dare accuse a Deputy Commissioner of Police of colluding with triads—then you must present solid proof!” Chief Investigator Xu retorted.
“I will,” Lu Guang Ming declared. “However, I require your authorization and support. Without an official case and technical backing, this investigation cannot progress further. My informant, He Chu San, has invested substantial personal funds. If everything goes well, he will soon come into direct contact with the suspect. His identity is uncertain, and his safety is not guaranteed. I need formal approval—so that ICAC resources can stand behind him.”
“Support my ass—” Chief Investigator Xu nearly swore, but his scholarly upbringing restrained him. “You incited a civilian to act undercover, risking his life and property—on that alone, I could revoke your badge and send you for internal review!”
“He is not undercover—he is an informant. We cooperate; he is not under my command. And everything he has done was of his own volition—I had no knowledge before today.” Lu Guang Ming’s expression was innocent, neatly absolving himself in two sentences.
Absolve your ass!
Enraged, Chief Investigator Xu suddenly flung the stack of documents in his hand straight at Lu Guang Ming’s face! Papers and photographs scattered everywhere. Among them, two portraits stood out—Xie Ying Jie in full uniform, decorated and imposing, and He Chu San in suit and tie, smiling warmly.
Lu Guang Ming lowered his head, staring silently at the two images, while Chief Investigator Xu’s furious voice rang out:
“Don’t act innocent with me! You only care about results, not rules! You refuse to cooperate, never work with partners, always act alone! I was already dissatisfied with this during your probation—if not for your teacher’s dying recommendation, I wouldn’t have kept you!”
Lu Guang Ming curved his lips faintly. “I know. The ones who liked me are all dead.”
His vision suddenly darkened—a folder smacked into his face. Chief Investigator Xu shouted, exasperated:
“Does criticism mean total rejection to you?! Can’t you learn from your mistakes and correct them? Why would you distrust everyone, hide, and scheme alone? If you had told me about this case three years ago, we could have opened it then! Back then, Inspector Hua was still alive, and we could have preserved evidence and witnesses. Would your informant have risked himself like this? You idiot!”
Lu Guang Ming covered his reddened face with his hand, his expression blank. “Three years ago, I had just joined the force. You put me in the records room for three months. After that, for half a year, you gave me no cases—only minor support work. Everyone mocked me for ‘warming the bench.’ What was there for me to tell you?”
“Didn’t you find suspicious old cases in those records? Didn’t that support work give you experience? Were the cases you later handled not approved by me? Wasn’t your promotion signed by me? Without my trust, could you have gotten this far? I spent all that effort training you—and this is what you think?!”
Chief Investigator Xu was furious and sat down, bracing himself against the desk. After a long moment, he sighed.
“A’Ming… I’m deeply disappointed in you. You’ve failed your teacher.”
Lu Guang Ming suddenly raised his head, his lips parting to speak, but Chief Investigator Xu cut him off with a wave.
“Enough. I don’t want to see you right now. Take the afternoon off—go home and think.”
Lu Guang Ming lowered his eyes and turned to leave. Just as he reached the door,
“This case lacks sufficient evidence for formal opening,” Chief Investigator Xu said from behind, “but I’ll arrange technical support for you—until you find credible proof.”
Lu Guang Ming turned back in surprise. “Thank you, Sir—”
“Shut up! Get out!” Chief Investigator Xu snapped, unwilling to hear another word.
Elio’s notes: Will continue again tomorrow. Good night!
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Futile Devices Scans 
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