Chapter 18: Gathering Momentum Through the Pavilion

The five brothers stood up once more, stepping forward in turn to offer incense. As the fifteen sticks of incense stood upright before the bronze burner, the five men in the room exchanged glances, the atmosphere between them having shifted significantly.

The various doubts, anxieties, and misgivings accumulated over their three years of separation had vanished like smoke, replaced by the weight of their pledge. What remained was the unwavering loyalty and soaring ambition in their hearts, leaving Lin Tiansheng deeply impressed by the charisma of this generation of men from the eighties.

They were fearless, principled, and shrewd.

It must be noted that this "pledge of loyalty" was formalized in Zhong Zhihui’s old family home, yet the one among them with the highest rank had offered up the most compromising leverage. As the leader, Lin Tiansheng had remained clean, uninvolved in the illicit dealings; he served as the final safeguard, ensuring that even if his brothers faced internal strife or political ruin, their power base would endure.

Lin Tiansheng gazed at Zhong Zhihui, compelled to admire his political acumen.

The five sat down in the hall, tearing into roast goose, drinking, and chatting. Deng Gengyun, holding a drumstick of poached chicken, didn’t forget to dip it in the ginger-scallion sauce before popping it into his mouth. Unable to hold back, he was the first to ask, "Boss, when can I transfer to the Major Crimes Unit to help you? I’m stuck patrolling the streets and writing parking tickets all day—damn it, even the valets dare to curse at me."

"When you're on the force, if you don't have a gun at your hip, even the dogs look down on you."

Zhang Jinrong took a sip of beer and chuckled, "Yun, transferring to the Major Crimes Unit isn't that simple. We have to wait until Brother Sheng gets promoted to Inspector before you can make your move."

"If you transfer people for no reason, be careful the 'foreign devils' don't start kicking up a fuss."

Zhong Zhihui added, "If you want to carry a gun, that's easy—apply for the Police Tactical Unit."

"Don't even start, that godforsaken place, not even a dog could find a meal there." Chen Anquan unholstered the black-star pistol that had been digging into his hip, removed the magazine, and slapped it onto the table.

As a quasi-military unit, the PTU frequently selected frontline officers for training, but almost no one wanted to stay there for long. It was grueling and exhausting, and it held no real authority.

Lin Tiansheng set aside a chicken wing bone and spoke up, "Compared to transferring to the Major Crimes Unit, there is something more important."

"What is it?"

Deng Gengyun and Chen Anquan turned their gaze toward him.

Lin Tiansheng retorted, "Making money, you fools. To have a gun at your hip, you also need cash. Brother Le could command the winds and rain, controlling both the underworld and the establishment, not just because he had guns, but because he knew how to generate wealth."

"There were several Chief Chinese Detectives, so why was Brother Le the most influential and famous? But times have changed; we can’t copy Brother Le. We have to find a way into a legitimate business."

Deng Gengyun scratched his head, looking puzzled. "We’re policemen. If we’re going to make money, we aren't using our guns for it, so we're going into legitimate business?"

"What kind of cop work? Just resign and become a big boss."

Zhang Jinrong, tipsy, said, "You idiot, big bosses need guns to protect them. Why do real estate developers donate to the Hong Kong government, and why do gold shop owners donate vehicles to the police?"

"Isn't it all for peace of mind?"

"We have to rely on ourselves, keep a firm grip on our guns, and naturally, we need a path to wealth."

Zhong Zhihui’s eyes widened in surprise, but he immediately agreed. "Doing legitimate business is good. Only by operating legally and using money to consolidate power can we go the distance."

"Did Brother Le leave behind any legitimate path to wealth?"

He had noticed that over the past three years, his boss’s perspective had changed drastically. But speaking of starting a business from scratch—that was easier said than done. However, if the boss wanted to cozy up to the New Territories gentry or the Chaoshan tycoons, Brother Le’s connections would make it effortless. Yet, the outside world knew Brother Sheng didn't give face to the New Territories elders. Excluding them invited speculation: did Brother Le have secret, legitimate assets left in the hands of his successor?

Perhaps a major conglomerate was exactly what Brother Le had left behind.

Lin Tiansheng slowly shook his head, shattering that speculation. "Don't think about Brother Le. Whatever he could take with him, he took. Whatever he couldn't take, he sold."

"If there were assets the ICAC hadn't found, he would have left them for his descendants to claim years later! Whatever Brother Le left behind has nothing to do with money; I don't even know if it's of any use."

Under current circumstances, he wasn't ready to retrieve that "thing."

"I’ve come up with a way to make money myself. Let’s discuss it and see if it has potential and how we should go about it."

Zhong Zhihui, though disappointed, asked, "Boss, tell us."

Lin Tiansheng smiled. "How about opening a real estate agency? Helping people buy and sell properties, speculating on the market—what do you think?"

Zhang Jinrong was penniless, but he cared deeply about the property market because he was always calculating how much the homes he had lost could have sold for. Whenever he saw the market climb, he felt as if his heart were being sliced by a knife. He immediately shouted, "That’s viable, Boss! The market has been soaring daily for the past few years. Damn it, the properties we lost have already doubled in value. There are so many people buying and selling; when a new development opens, even just scalping the queue can earn you ten thousand."

"As long as you flip the purchase rights, you can make money without spending a cent."

Behind the frantic property market were hundreds of thousands of speculators. In the eighties, Hong Kong’s first massive real estate bubble was fueled by a frenzy of mass-market capital.

Of course, whether you were scalping or acting as an agent, "stealing business" was bound to lead to friction. They couldn't handle major disputes yet, but for a small agency, a few guns would be enough. The key was to use them effectively, to have the nerve to use them, and to use them at the critical moment.

Zhong Zhihui pondered for a moment, a glint in his eyes as he re-examined his boss. "It’s a good business, and we can handle it. Not only can we earn commissions, but we can also speculate ourselves. In a year or two, our principal could double or triple."

By then, earning a few million wouldn't just mean expansion; it would open doors to further investment.

"But there's one thing: if the market takes a downturn, it might all collapse."

Lin Tiansheng took a deep drag of his cigarette, his tone indifferent. "You gamble with your life on the battlefield, and you gamble with your life in the market. I believe my luck is tough enough!"

Damn it. In his previous life, he had been ruined by the property market. He had specifically studied real estate policies, and since the domestic real estate model was modeled after Hong Kong's, he was quite familiar with the Hong Kong market. In this life, he would earn back the money he lost in his past life tenfold, a hundredfold. He would use leverage, take out loans, and recklessly manipulate this bitch of a market that loved its "climax after climax."

Buy the dip when it drops, sell high when it rises.

Who’s afraid of who?

This audacity made Zhong Zhihui feel a sense of dread. "Boss, it’s safer to just earn the commissions. Speculating on property..."

"It doesn't matter. I’ll handle it as the situation dictates. In business, nothing is ever foolproof. The most important thing is to raise the capital, rise to power, and live in glory."

"The key is to find someone reliable and capable to help manage the shop," Lin Tiansheng said.

Zhang Jinrong agreed wholeheartedly. "Exactly! As long as we make money in the short term, we can charge ahead. Everyone who has ever offended us will have to kneel and pay us back. Once we have the money, what is there to fear?"

"I don't believe we brothers are so unlucky that the market will crash the moment we enter! Brother Sheng, my life savings are all yours. I’m betting on this with you!"

Deng Gengyun and Chen Anquan, their blood boiling, sat to the side drinking, feeling the excitement despite their empty pockets.

Zhong Zhihui couldn't believe that after three years of life in the "fish pond," his boss had lost none of his ambition, and his boldness far exceeded everyone else's. He spoke up, "Finding a manager is easy. So many detectives fell from grace and so many bosses died back then... if I recall correctly, Mr. Li from the Dawang Company was just released from prison a few days ago."