Chapter 329 Pretending to be a Returning Businessman in a Historical Novel 2
On the deck of the passenger ship, Zhou Jue leaned against the railing, the sea breeze blowing through her hair. Her well-made camel-colored trench coat stood out starkly against the drab blue work clothes around her.
She took a deep breath; the air was filled with the smell of diesel fuel and a faint saltiness.
"Master, confirm your identity information."
[Report to host: Complete!]
The system's voice was filled with a triumphant, self-satisfied tone.
[New identity: Zhou Jue, female, 24 years old, third-generation Southeast Asian Chinese, ancestral home in southern China. Her family runs a trading company in Kuala Lumpur. This trip back to China is to investigate the investment environment and seek business cooperation.]
[Your complete set of documents, including your overseas passport, proof of overseas Chinese status, family business introduction letter, and accompanying overseas bank deposit certificates, have all been generated and placed in the Starry Sky Casket.]
[All online identities have been verified. If anyone calls this company to inquire about your identity, I will be in charge of answering the call.]
Therefore, as long as you don't have face-to-face communication with this company, you're completely safe.
[The ticket information for the 'Forward' passenger ship used in this trip has been simultaneously entered into the Huaguo Customs system, ensuring a flawless identity!]
Zhou Jue silently hummed in his heart.
She didn't go back to her cabin, but chose to stay on the deck, observing the other passengers on board with a curious gaze.
These people are the most authentic microcosm of this era.
Their faces showed both bewilderment about the future and simple hopes for life; these vivid expressions were more real than any document.
Zhou Jue memorized these details one by one, constantly refining the background and behavior of the character "Zhou Jue" in his mind.
She pulled an English novel with a slightly worn cover from her trench coat pocket and casually flipped through it.
This is one of the props specially prepared by the system.
"Waaah—"
A long, deep blast of the ship's horn broke the tranquility of the sea.
On the distant horizon, a blurry, gray outline of a city appeared.
arrive.
The atmosphere on the deck instantly became restless.
People flocked to the ship's side, craning their necks to gaze at the land they were about to set foot on, their faces a mixture of excitement, nervousness, and anticipation.
Zhou Jue closed the book, stood up slowly, and straightened his collar, which had been ruffled by the wind.
She picked up the expensive-looking brown leather suitcase beside her and mingled with the crowd, preparing to disembark.
The docks were busier than I had imagined.
Beneath the towering crane, workers chanted commands as they moved boxes of goods. The air was thick with the pungent smell of engine oil and sweat.
At the disembarkation passage, several uniformed staff members with serious expressions were checking passengers' documents one by one.
When it was Zhou Jue's turn, she calmly handed over her passport and proof of overseas Chinese status.
The person in charge of the inspection was a man in his thirties with dark skin and sharp eyes.
He took the documents, his gaze lingering for a moment on Zhou Jue's unusual attire.
“Zhou Jue?” He flipped open the ID, looked down at the photo, and then looked up at Zhou Jue.
"Yes." Zhou Jue nodded slightly, his voice calm.
The man's gaze fell on the place of birth section of the document: "Kuala Lumpur? From Southeast Asia?"
"Yes, comrade."
"Grown up abroad? Your Mandarin is very standard." The man closed the document and handed it back to her, but the scrutiny in his eyes did not fade.
In this day and age, it is itself a questionable thing that an overseas Chinese who grew up abroad can speak such fluent and standard Mandarin.
Zhou Jue took the documents, a perfectly timed smile, tinged with a touch of nostalgia, appearing on his face.
“When my grandfather was alive, he always taught us that no matter where we are, we must never forget our roots, and the children in the family must learn to speak the local dialect from a young age.”
This reason is irrefutable.
It perfectly embodies all the idealized images of "patriotic overseas Chinese" of that era.
Sure enough, the man's serious expression softened considerably upon hearing this explanation.
He nodded, and although he didn't say anything more, the wariness in his eyes had mostly dissipated, replaced by a hint of approval.
"Welcome back to China." He stepped aside to make way for them.
"Thanks."
Zhou Jue carried his suitcase, walked down the gangway, and stepped firmly onto the ground.
Unlike the others who rushed to find a taxi or take a bus, she went straight to the dock office and specifically asked to see the person in charge.
Faced with the questions from the staff in the office, she only said one sentence.
“I am a patriotic overseas Chinese who has returned to China to investigate investment opportunities. I need to rent a car to get to the city center and hope to get some help.”
The word "investment" carries immense weight.
Less than ten minutes later, a slightly worn green Jeep pulled up in front of her.
The driver was a taciturn veteran who drove extremely steadily.
"Comrade, where are we going?"
“Let’s go to the best guesthouse in the city,” Zhou Jue said, naming a place she had seen in the information: “Friendship Guesthouse.”
The jeep bumped and jolted along the potholed dirt road.
Outside the window, low gray buildings, pedestrians riding "Forever" brand bicycles, red slogans on the walls... scenes flashed by.
This was the 1970s.
An era that is both unfamiliar and familiar through countless images and documents.
The Friendship Guesthouse is a place in this port city specifically used to receive foreign guests and important visitors.
When Zhou Jue's jeep stopped at the door, it immediately attracted everyone's attention.
She got out of the car and gave the driver a few foreign exchange certificates as a reward. The driver couldn't refuse, and a blush rose on his dark face. He gave a solemn military salute before leaving.
Zhou Jue carried his suitcase and walked into the spacious and quiet lobby of the guesthouse.
Behind the front desk sat a young woman with two braids. When she saw Zhou Jue, she stood up nervously.
"Hello, comrade."
"Hello." Zhou Jue placed his suitcase at his feet and said with a smile, "I need a room, the best one."
“The best…” The girl paused, her face flushed red, and she seemed a little flustered: “We…we have VIP rooms, but they will be a little more expensive.”
“Price is not a problem, I just need a quiet room with good lighting.” Zhou Jue seemed oblivious to her embarrassment and continued to make his own requests: “It would be best if it had a private bathroom.”
"Yes, yes, the VIP rooms all have private bathrooms," the young girl quickly replied.
“In addition,” Zhou Jue took out an elegant leather wallet from his handbag and slowly opened it, “I will need your food delivery service while I am staying here. Also, I may need to make international calls to contact companies overseas at any time.”
As she spoke, she took out several brand-new foreign exchange certificates from her wallet and gently placed them on the counter.
"Can these be arranged?"
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