Traveling back to 1966, starting by living in a cowshed.

In late 1960s Hong Kong, a restless atmosphere permeated the air. Cargo ships sounded their horns one after another along the harbor and docks, while dockworkers, shirtless, carried sacks, sweat mingling with dust as they worked. In the distance, neon signs began to flicker with an ambiguous glow. The blend of old and new grew wildly on this land.

Lin Zhou rarely managed to steal half a day of leisure.

A few days ago, he accompanied Su Wanqing shopping in Causeway Bay, picking out an exquisite women's watch for her. Seeing the girl's radiant smile warmed his heart. The taste of love is like a sweet treat amidst a busy entrepreneurial journey, sweet to the core. But even the sweetest moments can't interfere with his work. Zhonghua's businesses are expanding rapidly, from a daily newspaper to air fryers to handheld game consoles, and now the newly established security company—each and every one of them requires his constant attention.

That morning, the sun shone brightly, dispelling some of the dampness of Hong Kong. Lin Zhou, dressed in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing his strong wrists, strolled leisurely towards Zhonghua Security Company without his driver.

The security company was located in the southeast corner of Zhonghua Industrial Park, in a detached two-story building. A large open space in front of the building was fenced off with barbed wire, and inside were horizontal and vertical bars, as well as several sandpits, clearly a training ground. From a distance, Lin Zhou could hear the uniform slogans coming from inside, powerful and resounding, making one's eardrums vibrate.

"One, two, three, four!"

"One, two, three, four!"

The voice was Zhao Jianjun's, carrying the rugged strength unique to soldiers. Lin Zhou paused, and the corners of his mouth involuntarily turned up in a smile.

He walked to the main gate, where the two young men standing guard immediately straightened their backs, their dark faces solemn, their eyes sharp as hawks. Upon seeing Lin Zhou, they greeted him in unison, "Good morning, Mr. Lin!"

These two young men were both trained by Zhao Jianjun, so they have a very solid foundation. Lin Zhou smiled and nodded, waving his hand and saying, "Don't be shy, I'll go in and take a look."

Stepping into the training ground, the scene before him warmed Lin Zhou's heart even more.

About seventy or eighty men, all dressed in identical gray training uniforms, their skin tanned dark and shiny, stood in neat square formation, conducting drill training. When they marched in formation, the sound of their footsteps on the ground was like the beating of drums, each movement so precise it seemed like a replica; their arm swings and leg kicks were clean and crisp, exuding the iron-blooded spirit of soldiers.

At the very front of the line, Zhao Jianjun stood with his hands behind his back, his posture ramrod straight, like a javelin. He had a booming voice, frequently correcting the movements of those in the ranks: "Hey shorty, lift your leg higher! And you, don't swing your arms so weakly, put some strength into it!"

The man whose name was called immediately blushed and gritted his teeth to make his movements even more precise.

These people were all selected by Zhao Jianjun from the group of people who had illegally crossed the border from the mainland to Hong Kong.

In the 1960s, many places in mainland China still struggled to get enough to eat and lived a hard life. Those who could no longer endure the hardship would bravely risk their lives to smuggle themselves into Hong Kong to make a living.

Most of them are veterans who served in the army in their hometowns, carried guns, and practiced martial arts. While in the army, they could eat their fill, but after retiring, they could no longer eat as much as they wanted back home. They were always hungry and had no choice but to come out and try their luck.

However, upon arriving in the unfamiliar land of Hong Kong, with no connections or backers and many language barriers, they could only do the hardest and most tiring jobs. Some were even targeted by triads and forced to do petty theft.

Zhao Jianjun was also a veteran from the mainland. He used to work as a porter at the docks. Lin Zhou wanted to start a security company, so he recruited Zhao Jianjun to give him a job and put him in charge. Zhao Jianjun was grateful for this kindness and worked with extra care. He knew the difficulties these fellow villagers faced and understood their skills, so he went around inquiring and persuading them to join Zhonghua Security Company. He recruited those veterans who were physically strong, had good foundations, and were truly desperate to find other opportunities.

Lin Zhou allocated 100 slots, and over the past year, nearly 80 have been recruited. In a few more days, the quota will probably be filled.

Zhao Jianjun, with his sharp eyes, spotted Lin Zhou standing at the door. He called out, "At ease," and strode over, a simple, honest smile spreading across his dark face. He raised his hand in a crisp military salute: "General Lin, what brings you here?"

Lin Zhou returned the greeting, patted his shoulder with a light touch, and said, "Old Zhao, thank you for your hard work."

This wasn't just polite talk. Lin Zhou knew how tired Zhao Jianjun had been these days. He not only had to manage the company's daily operations, but also personally lead training, turning these veterans who hadn't touched a gun or practiced martial arts in a long time into sharp steel knives.

"It's not hard work, it's all part of my job." Zhao Jianjun grinned, revealing two rows of white teeth. "President Lin, please come with me, I'll give you a briefing on the recent situation."

Lin Zhou followed Zhao Jianjun to the office on the second floor. The stairs creaked under his feet. On the wall hung a banner that read "Strict Discipline, Excellent Conduct." The words were written by Zhao Jianjun, with strong and powerful strokes. Lin Zhou looked at the banner and felt a pang of nostalgia. In his previous life, he had lived in a stable country, all thanks to the hard work of these lovely people.

Unaware of Lin Zhou's presence, Zhao Jianjun led him into the office, a faint smell of tobacco wafting through the air. Zhao Jianjun took a box of tea from his desk drawer, carefully picked out a few tea leaves, placed them in a cup, and then poured hot water into it. As he handed the cup over, he explained, "I bought this box of tea on the black market when I went back to my hometown last time. You need ration coupons to buy it at the supply and marketing cooperative, and even then, you might not be able to get it. This box of tea is quite expensive in Hong Kong. Why don't you try it and see what you think?"

Lin Zhou sat there watching his actions, suppressing a laugh, but didn't say anything. He just gave an awkward yet polite smile, took the cup, and nodded.

Seeing that Lin Zhou did not respond, Zhao Jianjun's disappointment flashed by for a moment. Then he took out a thick ledger from the drawer and spread it on the table: "President Lin, take a look, this is the income and expenditure details for the past few months."

Lin Zhou held his teacup, blew on the tea leaves floating on the surface, and looked down at the account book. The account book was very clear, with each stroke neat and tidy, and the income and expenses were clearly listed. In the first few months, the security company had almost no income and relied entirely on the Zhonghua Newspaper for funding, but the expenses were considerable, including training equipment, training uniforms, and the salaries of these people, all of which amounted to a significant sum.

When Lin Zhou first started the security company, he didn't actually intend to make a lot of money from it.