Chapter 286 Hong Kong is so exciting (bug fix): It's like making a movie.

In March, Jinning City is truly a place where all kinds of flowers bloom on the trees and orioles fly in flocks.

March is also the season when people dress haphazardly, experiencing all four seasons in a single week. In the mornings, you often don't even know what to wear.

However, Comrade Wang Tiejun no longer has this problem.

As the deputy director of business at Jinning Steel Plant, he was going on another business trip.

Where to go? Hong Kong, of course.

Why would he go to the capitalist world to enjoy its bright lights and nightlife? Because he wants to recruit talent.

What kind of talent? Talent that the steel mill needs.

Well, speaking of which, this guy is an old acquaintance.

While solemnly putting on his suit and tie, Wang Tiejun sighed, "Oh dear, if our Comrade Rybakov had agreed to come to our Jinning Steel Plant back in early 1992, wouldn't he have everything by now?"

Does the name Comrade Rybakov sound familiar? Yes! He was the former director of the Azov Steel Plant in Ukraine.

In early 1992, Wang Tiejun, who had just become the deputy director of Jinning Steel Plant, went to Ukraine with his daughter and Ivanov to buy low-priced scrap steel. At Azov Steel Plant, it was Ivanov's friend Rybakov who received Wang Tiejun.

At that time, due to the collapse of the Soviet Union, Rybakov, as a Russian, could no longer gain a foothold in Ukraine and had to pack his bags and leave.

Wang Tiejun wanted to recruit people to Jinning Steel Plant to be the foreign chief engineer, offering a monthly salary of 5,000 Chinese yuan, which was quite sincere.

However, disheartened, Rybakov had no desire to fight again and only wanted to return to his homeland, Russia.

The matter was thus dropped.

Unfortunately, my heart was set on the bright moon, but the bright moon shone on the gutter. After Rybakov returned to Russia, his life deteriorated.

The shutdown of numerous factories and the sharp decline in heavy industry mean that Russian industry does not need so many skilled workers.

Large numbers of Russians were forced to return from the constituent republics, just like the educated youth returning to the cities back then, because they simply couldn't find jobs.

With the ruble plummeting in value, these elite talents who had hoped to live a simple life with the savings they had accumulated over the years no longer had the opportunity to relax and had to roll up their sleeves and keep working even at their advanced age.

It was against this backdrop that Rybakov once again left his homeland and went to Hong Kong.

As for why Hong Kong? Is it because of the need for Wang Xiao and Ivanov to promote their clothes, and why Russia's Channel 2 keeps showing Hong Kong videotapes?

Yes and no.

The key point is that, due to Soviet-era control, Russians know very little about foreign countries. This lack isn't in historical or geographical knowledge, but rather in their actual understanding of foreign situations.

Therefore, "foreign countries" is a relatively general concept for them. They find it difficult to clearly explain the differences between specific countries.

At this point, when a concrete concept of any country or region appears repeatedly in front of them, it becomes equivalent to a specific synonym for a foreign country.

The problem is that these Russians who went to Hong Kong actually had two plans, and they were eyeing Hong Kong's special status.

With Hong Kong's impending return to China in 1997, the situation in Hong Kong now presents a strategic advantage, allowing for both offensive and defensive maneuvers.

Furthermore, they could use Hong Kong as a springboard to go to other Commonwealth countries, or even the United States and Japan.

Even if we take a step back, once Hong Kong returns to China, it will rightfully be part of China. Even under the "one country, two systems" framework, the core of China will still be a socialist country.

If you can't wait, you can go directly from Hong Kong to the mainland.

Therefore, Comrade Wang Tiejun, dressed in a suit and tie, went to great lengths to fly to Hong Kong for the sake of these talented individuals.

Accompanying him was Lu Fengyan. As the son of Factory Director Lu, he was well-qualified to be the representative.

The plane flew from Shanghai Hongqiao Airport to Hong Kong Kai Tak Airport.

It's really strange, Shanghai, as the name suggests, is a coastal city.

But in March, Shanghai is still a warm and gentle spring in the Jiangnan region, with its blooming flowers, green willows, lush grass, and soaring birds.

In March, Hong Kong, though not far from Shanghai, is bathed in blazing sunshine, like a boiling Chongqing hot pot, with everything scorching hot.

The ink paintings of Jiangnan, once they arrive here, instantly transform into rich, vibrant oil paintings that are almost too intense for the paper to contain.

As soon as the two stepped out of the Boeing 737 cabin, the salty sea breeze, carrying with it the buzzing sound of electronic screens, rushed towards them.

A giant Cathay Pacific advertisement hangs from the airport dome, featuring a cartoon flight attendant in a cheongsam holding a bauhinia flower, and the slogan "Asia's International City" gleams coldly under the fluorescent lights.

But the cold light did not calm the minds of those getting off the plane.

Once they entered the arrival hall, the signs, a mix of traditional Chinese characters and English, dazzled the newcomers.

Lu Fengyan has actually traveled abroad quite a bit, visiting many CIS countries such as Russia and Ukraine, as well as Eastern European countries like Hungary and Romania.

Well, this was originally a benefit for steel factory workers. Without this benefit, Wang Xiao's mother, Comrade Chen Yanqiu, would not have been able to rise from an ordinary factory doctor to be elected as the union chairperson with a high number of votes at the factory's general meeting of employees.

But Lu Fengyan, who considered himself knowledgeable and worldly, became listless and timid once he arrived in Hong Kong, feeling awkward and uncomfortable everywhere.

Before he left Jinning, the new suit he was wearing now clung to his body, making him feel uncomfortable all over. Even the tie around his neck felt like it had grown hands, trying to strangle him.

Compared to him, Wang Tiejun, who was also wearing a suit and tie, seemed completely unaware of his incongruity and was curiously looking around.

His childlike demeanor, which made his curiosity seem less like the awkwardness and helplessness of a country bumpkin entering the city, and instead revealed that human progress is due to a perpetual curiosity and exploration of the world.

Tang Yicheng couldn't help but sigh when he saw it.

Although many people were whispering behind his back, believing that Wang Xiao was a genetic mutation and shouldn't have been raised by Wang Tiejun and Chen Yanqiu, two honest men.

However, Tang Yicheng believed that he had spent a lot of time with this family of three and had seen the essence of the matter.

Who says they don't look alike? Look at Wang Tiejun's curiosity—it's so open and natural, and he's completely unpretentious. Isn't he just like his boss?

He smiled and went through the customs procedures with practiced ease.

Midway through the journey, the young customs officer asked questions in Cantonese such as, "Are you from the mainland? What are you doing here?"

Wang Tiejun was just responsible for laughing, since he couldn't understand it anyway.

Lu Fengyan blushed deeply, broke out in a cold sweat, and felt extremely embarrassed.

I feel like a monkey in a zoo, unable to understand anything and unable to do anything.

He really envied Tang Yicheng; Tang Yicheng could chatter away and get everything done in no time.

Even Hong Kong girls wearing crop tops and flared jeans turned around repeatedly when they saw him, seemingly unable to tell that he was a country bumpkin from the mainland.

But soon, Lu Fengyan had no time to think about anything else. As soon as he stepped out of the hall, he was surrounded by men in floral shirts who furtively asked, "Comrades, want to exchange Hong Kong dollars?"

Wang Tiejun looked at his suit and tie and couldn't help but burst into laughter.

How ridiculous!

They painstakingly wear suits and ties, afraid that Hong Kong people will notice they don't fit in.

As it turned out, the pile drivers could tell at a glance that they were from mainland China.

If I had known this would happen, why would he have worn a suit? He would have been more comfortable in a t-shirt in Hong Kong in March.

Lu Fengyan wished he could dig a hole and crawl into it. It was too embarrassing. He couldn't understand how Deputy Factory Director Wang could still have the nerve to laugh.

Didn't you see that the people from Hong Kong were looking at them strangely?

Tang Yicheng's attention was mainly focused on the boss's father, but Lu Fengyan was, after all, his guest, so he naturally had to pay attention to him as well.

He patted Young Master Lu on the shoulder and joked with a smile, "It's alright, everyone's just looking at the glamorous people."

Who is it? It's Young Master Zhou.

The second son of Shougang Group was surrounded by a group of people as he got off the plane and walked toward a luxury car.

Beside him stood a petite Hong Kong female reporter, holding a microphone, wanting to interview him.

Judging by this, it's about time the Four Heavenly Kings returned to Hong Kong; they'll definitely be treated like superstars.

Tang Yicheng shook his head with a smile: "Celebrities are nothing special in Hong Kong, far less than Young Master Zhou."

He pointed, and the huge advertisement in the international terminal caught his eye—Shougang galvanized steel sheets gleamed with a cold blue light, and the slogan "Let Chinese steel shine in Hong Kong" was probably the only simplified Chinese characters in the entire airport.

In that instant, Lu Fengyan's heart, as the son of a steel factory worker, burned fiercely.

He couldn't tell whether it was envy or jealousy.

All he knew at that moment was that there was only one sentence in his mind: "Truly worthy of Shougang!"

This kind of domineering presence is only found in Zhou, the Party Secretary of Shougang Group.

He doesn't adapt to local customs or follow so-called rules; he's the one who breaks the rules and makes his own.

Only now has Lu Fengyan truly understood what it means to be a pioneer of reform.

Even the arrogant and haughty Young Master Zhou, who was surrounded by followers, now appeared domineering in Lu Fengyan's eyes, which made him envious.

At least they dare to hold their heads high and look down on us.

The car arranged by Tang Yicheng also arrived to pick up the guests. He invited the distinguished guests into the car, and with a smile on his face, he looked at the luxury car of Young Master Zhou in front of him. He gently tapped on the car window, as if he was full of emotion: "Shougang is not simple. The Chief Executive's stock has made Hong Kong people rich."

Lu Fengyan then realized what was happening and subconsciously retorted, "It's not the leader who's simple, it's Shougang."

Tang Yicheng gave a thumbs up and exclaimed enthusiastically, "As expected of Young Master Lu, your insight is truly remarkable!"

The words may be crude, but the principle is sound. Hong Kong people know nothing about Shougang Group; they only know about the Chief Executive.

Hong Kong was to return to China in 1997, and those who hadn't immigrated by then should definitely give the leader a hug.

Lu Fengyan waved his hand: "Alright, stop trying to fool me. I know my own worth better than anyone."

He can't even understand the subtle exchanges between his father and that little girl Wang Xiao, so how much insight can he possibly have?

He wouldn't dare listen to anyone else who dared to boast.

The air conditioning in the luxury imported car helped Lu Fengyan calm down from the shock and panic of arriving in Hong Kong, and he got straight to the point: "Mr. Tang, when can I pick up what I asked for?"

Tang Yicheng glanced at the Swiss watch on his wrist and smiled broadly: "No rush, let's go back and put our luggage away first, then we'll go eat."

Lu Fengyan's gossipy nature kicked in again, and he eagerly pressed, "I heard that President Wang bought a building in Hong Kong? That's amazing!"

Tang Yicheng laughed out loud: "Where did you get the skyscraper? Hong Kong's buildings are ridiculously expensive, twenty times more expensive than Beijing's. There are no skyscrapers, just ordinary buildings."

He wasn't feigning modesty, because he was the one who handled the purchase of the building. A twelve-story apartment building cost HK$100 million.

Moreover, it's because the building is located in Kowloon. If it were on Hong Kong Island, HK$100 million would only buy a small to medium-sized residential building.

But when the car stopped and he saw the apartment building, Lu Fengyan couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

See? That's real skill! Being able to buy property in Hong Kong and even get Hong Kong residency for subordinates—that's some serious ability!

No wonder his father keeps muttering to himself, "Why is there green smoke rising from the Wang family's grave? Why isn't Wang Xiao our Lu family's daughter?"

Lu Fengyan wanted to as well.

If Wang Xiao were his biological sister, how much benefit would he gain?

As he was lost in thought, the apartment building manager came running up, his fat cheeks and belly jiggling with his movements, his sweat glistening with oil, almost reflecting a riot of colors in the light.

Lu Fengyan thought to himself, "This guy must be living a very comfortable life, otherwise he wouldn't have grown so fat."

The administrator's life is indeed quite good.

The Russians living in the building are all cultured people. They don't have the habit of resorting to violence at the slightest disagreement. Their way of expressing dissatisfaction is to close the door and simply ignore the other person.

It saved him a lot of trouble.

So the administrators reciprocated and were happy to help these Russians.

He swears he wasn't doing it because of the gifts they gave him.

Mainlanders call Russians "poor Russians," so how could he, a native Hong Konger, possibly appreciate their carefully chosen gifts?

His kindness and generosity stemmed entirely from his compassionate heart.

Oh, of course, it's also related to the company's incentive policy.

Mr. Tang said that if one Russian successfully gets a satisfactory job, he can get a commission from the business of another Russian.

So, with his translator, he thoroughly investigated all the Russians. He knew exactly what they were good at and what jobs they could do.

Now, the resume he handed to President Tang after jogging over was the result of his careful investigation.

Wang Tiejun glanced at the words on the paper and praised, "Your handwriting is really beautiful."

That's an insult to the art of calligraphy; the administrator's handwriting is comparable to a primary school student's scribbles.

But is the key the art of calligraphy? The key is that he's writing simplified Chinese characters!

This attitude certainly deserves high praise.

The administrator proudly puffed out his chest. He obeyed whoever controlled him.

When he worked for foreigners, he could learn their simplified Chinese; but now that he works for a mainland Chinese boss, he can't learn simplified Chinese? That's impossible!

They're all just trying to make a living.

Tang Yicheng also realized that the administrator deliberately didn't use a typewriter and instead wrote by hand, which was a way of actively demonstrating his work attitude.

He nodded and handed a stack of papers to Wang Tiejun, saying respectfully, "Director Wang, please take a look and see if there are any suitable candidates?"

Then he turned to the administrator and instructed him, "Whatever Mr. Wang asks, you must answer without reservation."

Wang Tiejun became engrossed in the paper, nodding repeatedly: "I'll look at it first. You all have your things to do. By the way, is Mr. Rybakov here? I'd like to have a chat with him."

Once they started chatting, the two veteran steelworkers got hooked.

Why bother going out for a meal? The two of them had two portions of roast meat in front of them, each with a bottle of beer, and began reminiscing about the past.

Tang Yicheng had no choice but to instruct the administrator to make sure each of them had a bowl of noodles after they finished drinking.

Otherwise, if the big boss knew that her biological father had gone to Hong Kong and couldn't even get a proper meal, then when he returned, he might become Little Tang.

The administrator was taken aback; it turned out to be the big boss's father. He had no choice but to serve him well.

After leaving behind his bodyguards and finding a free part-time waiter for Director Wang, Tang Yicheng took another distinguished guest out for dinner.

As the sun sets and the evening breeze rises, the daytime heat in Kowloon dissipates considerably, and the air is filled with the scent of the sea.

The car twisted and turned, and finally stopped not in front of a seafood restaurant, but in a simple-looking ice cream parlor.

Tang Yicheng explained, "That's their rule; they don't trade on other people's turf."

All the Hong Kong videotapes that Lu Fengyan had watched instantly flooded his mind. It was like being doused with ice water; he was brought to his senses, even if he didn't want to.

But his legs suddenly started shaking, and he stammered, "Then, how do we make the deal?"

Tang Yicheng, having mastered his boss's essence, shrugged and said unconcernedly, "How would I know? I've never done this."

He led the way, reaching out to push open the glass door with a poster that read "Buy one get one free on iced lemon tea." In the dimly lit room, the ceiling fan blades stirred up the cool air mixed with the aroma of pork lard.

Tang Yicheng tapped the brass bell on the cashier's counter three times and two times. The old shop assistant who was wiping cups immediately lifted the partition: "Mr. Tang, booth number three."

Lu Fengyan immediately wanted to curse.

Damn it, what kind of general leads what kind of soldiers!

You fucking say you don't know? You're clearly a regular here.

He started daydreaming again.

In previous years, Wang Xiao also acted as a middleman between Russia and China, facilitating barter trade.

Later, due to the severe devaluation of the ruble and the increasing number of factory closures in Russia, this business failed to flourish.

So it turns out she didn't close down her business, but rather changed direction and started working as a middleman.

His attention wandered, and his leather shoe heel got stuck in the gap between the mosaic floor tiles, nearly knocking over the stack of San Miguel beer crates by the door.

The more you try not to embarrass yourself, the easier it is to embarrass yourself.

The lazy customers in the shop all looked up, making Lu Fengyan wish he could shrink into Tang Yicheng's shadow.

The latter remained calm and composed, not taking the little incident seriously at all, and went straight to his seat to order food.

"Three servings of satay beef noodles, without scallions."

Tang Yicheng drew a cross on the countertop with the tip of his fork, the stainless steel reflecting the floral shirt swaying in the kitchen. "Ken is seven minutes late."

Lu Fengyan suddenly looked up, searching for Ah Ken, whom Tang Yicheng had mentioned. Before he could lock onto his target, a short man with a camera around his neck had already squeezed into the booth.

With a "thud," the thick leather envelope was slammed onto the dining table, causing the iced lemon tea in the cup to sway violently.

Ken said irritably, "Hutchison's men chased me for two blocks!"

Tang Yicheng, always eager for drama, asked, "What have you done now? Did you film someone sleeping with some official's wife, or did some father-in-law commit incest and drive his first wife to her death?"

"Pah! You mainland boy."

Lu Fengyan wasn't interested in their banter and eagerly reached out to examine the manila envelope.

The reporter named Ken seemed to be a reincarnated starving ghost. As soon as the noodles were served, he started slurping them down while still managing to retort to Tang Yicheng's teasing.

The rich aroma of steaming hot beef noodles and the cool scent of iced lemon tea mingled together, creating a strange and wonderful smell that wafted into Lu Fengyan's nostrils, a mixture of his current mood and the aroma of iced lemon tea.

Damn it! They're not even human.

Look at these photos. They're both second-generation steel factory owners, but Zhou Gongzi looks so dashing.

Yacht parties and casino dramas—it's the epitome of a life of unbridled indulgence.

If it were him, having finally made it to Hong Kong, his first meal would be beef noodles at an ice cream parlor. What's the difference between that and a street food stall in Kam Ning?

Even with this beef noodle soup, he felt that his cooking skills were not as good as those of the head chef at their steel factory canteen.

Lu Fengyan looked at each and every one of them, and the more he looked, the more he wanted to slam his fist on the table and stand up in anger.

Damn it, you corrupt scoundrel.

I never dared to dream of living such a life of extravagance.

Look at this yacht, look at this hillside mansion, where the hell do you have the nerve!

Seeing his indignant expression, Ah Ken scoffed in broken Mandarin, "This is nothing, just an appetizer for me. The main course is yet to come."

He reached out and patted his bag. "How about it? A young master from the mainland, 100,000 Hong Kong dollars. I'll give you a discount for our friendship."

Lu Fengyan was startled: "100,000!"

Are you kidding me? It's hard to even get the accounts sorted out smoothly at a steel mill with 100,000 Chinese yuan, let alone Hong Kong dollars.

After finishing his beef noodles, Ah Ken ordered a cup of Hong Kong-style milk tea. He sipped it slowly, looking at Lu Fengyan as if he wanted to see a joke: "Sir, I also need to make a living. Do you think these things are easy to come by?"

They didn't even try to avoid the waiters who hadn't left yet after delivering the food.

As soon as he finished speaking, the glass of the ice room suddenly trembled from the motorcycle exhaust pipe.

Three thugs with blue dragon tattoos blocked the doorway. The leader, Gold Tooth, used the tip of his machete to lift the bamboo curtain: "Reporter, Young Master Zhou invites you for late-night tea."

Lu Fengyan's blood froze instantly; he never imagined that Hong Kong movies could actually become reality.

What's alarming is that the other customers were eating and drinking their beverages as usual, and the waiters were serving food and wiping tables as usual, seemingly taking all of this for granted.

A scene of everyday life.

The only exception was Tang Yicheng, who suddenly overturned the table, splashing the scalding hot soup from his freshly served beef noodles onto Jin Ya's face.

Before the other person could scream, he grabbed a stainless steel fork and plunged it into the wrist of the person holding the knife, the movement as fast as a single take in a movie.

As Lu Fengyan instinctively covered his head, a glass bottle of Coca-Cola smashed into the temple of the second thug, and brown syrup mixed with blood splattered all over the bikini of the San Miguel beer ad model.

"The back alley!"

Tang Yicheng dragged Lu Fengyan, a large burden, through the fire door, while the latter quickly grabbed the brown envelope from the table.

A Honda motorcycle with the key still in the ignition was parked under the fire escape. Lu Fengyan jumped onto the back seat without realizing it, and that's how he became Wu Qianlian in the classic scene of "A Moment of Romance".

However, in the movie, when the motorcycle stops, the person who is going to die is Andy Lau.

Now, Lu Fengyan felt that the person who was going to die was himself, sitting in the back seat.

Especially when they returned to the apartment building, he put the videotape from the envelope into the VCR and saw the footage.

He felt that no matter how much Zhou Gongzi thought he was the best in the world, he would still try to get the videotape back.

Damn! This could be made into a TV series.

Lu Fengyan's throat tightened and his voice became dry, causing him to stammer, "Could we talk to that reporter again and try to lower the price?"

The items are good, but HK$100,000 is just too expensive.

Tang Yicheng was baffled: "What price are you trying to negotiate? Did he give you the videotape? Didn't you find it?"

Lu Fengyan's eyes widened.

This...this...this is possible?

Tang Yicheng didn't take it seriously: "I almost got stabbed today, it scared me to death, and I haven't even asked him for compensation yet."

Of course, he wouldn't tell Lu Fengyan that the real highlight in the file bag had nothing to do with the reporter.

What can gossip reporters investigate? The real drama is handled by professionals.

Ah Ken is just a tool in this play.

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President Tang is both good-looking and a great actor.