Hong Kong variety show: The mastermind behind the scenes is emerging.

As September arrived, the weather on Hong Kong Island finally improved somewhat.

The wind on Victoria Peak was no longer the sticky, humid heat of midsummer; as it brushed against my cheek, I could feel a faint hint of autumn coolness. In the garden of the Lu family manor, the lawn had just been mowed, and the air still carried the bitter scent of freshly cut grass.

At 3 PM, Bao Chuanwang and his entourage arrived at the entrance of the Lu Family Manor on time. Today was the Red Alliance's monthly routine meeting, and Jiahe Security had sent people to greet them at the gate early in the morning.

Upon arriving at the main building, the three got out of the car one by one. Huo Daheng walked in front, leaning on a rosewood cane, his steps slow but steady.

Following behind him was Bao, holding a light gray Panama hat in his hand. He casually took it off as he entered and handed it to the security guard next to him.

Li Shutang, who was walking at the back, appeared much more casual, wearing a crisp dark blue casual suit with one button undone at the collar. Since officially taking the top seat of the Commissioner of Police (CP), this former top Chinese detective has increasingly favored casual and understated clothing, and he looked radiant, with a hint of renewed vitality.

"Old Huo, Old Bao, Mr. Li," Lu Chen greeted them one by one as he waited at the door.

"Little Lu." Huo Daheng nodded.

The shipping magnate wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief, glanced up at the ceiling of the hall, and said, "This manor of yours always feels different every time I come here. What's changed this time?"

"Nothing was changed. Ruan Mei has recently taken a liking to magnolias, so I had the gardener replace some of the plants."

"Magnolia is good; it's more practical than those foreign flowers and herbs."

Upon entering the building, the group did not go directly upstairs. Lu Chen led them through the living room and into a specially designated cigar room on the east side of the first floor.

The room wasn't large, but all four walls were upholstered for soundproofing. A dark brown leather sofa surrounded an old shipwood coffee table. In one corner of the coffee table, a built-in, temperature-controlled cigar cabinet was emitting a soft orange glow, with the warm glow of overhead spotlights reflecting off the glass door.

Lu Chen opened the cigar cabinet, took out an unopened wooden box from the top shelf, and placed it on the coffee table. Pushing open the lid, he saw two neat rows of dark brown cigars inside, each separated by a cedar wood sliver, with a very thin layer of oil glistening on the wrapper.

"Oh ho," the shipping magnate leaned down and glanced at the label, "Cohiba?"

"That's right, just got it from Havana, aged for 66 years." Lu Chen picked up a cigar cutter and personally cut the cigars for everyone. "Have a taste."

Li Shutang was the least particular; he simply put the cigar in his mouth, lit it himself with a match, took a couple of cold puffs, held the thick smoke in his throat for a long time, and then slowly exhaled it.

"Wow, this little thing has quite a kick."

"It's three times stronger than the Montecristo I smoked at Lee Garden last month." Huo Daheng lit his cigarette with the lighter Lu Chen handed him, leaned back on the leather sofa, and casually placed his cane on the armrest. "However, the smoke is quite deep, and the aftertaste is very satisfying."

Bao Chuanwang was a seasoned smoker among them. After receiving the cigar, he didn't rush to light it. Instead, he rolled it between his fingers a few times to feel the moisture of the wrapper leaf. Then he brought the end of the cigar to his nose and smelled it again and again before striking the match and savoring it for a few seconds with his eyes closed.

"The leaves from '66 are definitely different." He tucked the cigar between his fingers, turning to look at Huo Daheng. "Better than the one we smoked in Macau last time?"

"That's incomparable," Huo Daheng waved his hand. "First of all, the quality is vastly different. Secondly, Stanley Ho's methods of cultivating cigarettes are truly substandard. He handed over perfectly good Partagas cigarettes, and within six months they were completely mushy and sticky. Smoking them felt like burning straw, utterly wasting them."

"Yes, I remember Mr. He's cigar vividly," Bao Chuanwang shook his head, "He took two puffs and then put it out."

"He doesn't have the patience to keep cigars," Huo Daheng sneered. "He Sheng is too utilitarian in everything he does. For these things, it's just a pretense to show off. He doesn't have the patience to study them at all."

Lu Chen picked up the whiskey glass beside him, took a sip, and chuckled, "Old Huo, are you implying something today?"

"Heh, never mind, let's not talk about that old fox anymore." Huo Daheng realized he had misspoke, waved his hand, and cut off the conversation.

When the cigar was about a third burned, the conversation shifted from tobacco to the children. Huo Daheng asked Lu Qian how he was doing lately, and Lu Qian said that he had learned to put on his own shoes, but he just couldn't seem to learn how to tie his shoelaces. Every time, he would twist the two shoelaces together and tie a knot that wouldn't come off.

Huo Daheng chuckled after hearing this and said that he looked exactly like his eldest son when he was a child.

"Let's go, we've finished our cigars," Lu Chen stood up, tugged at his shirt cuffs, "It's time to go upstairs and talk business."

"Well, it's about time."

The three nodded and got up to leave.

Just as I pushed open the door to the cigar room, I heard light footsteps in the hallway outside, followed by Lu Qian's childish voice: "Cola! Cola, slow down! Sprite, don't run away!"

Two figures, one in black and one in white, darted out from around the corner of the corridor. Each wore a leather collar around their neck, their tongues lolling out, and their tails wagging so hard they were sweeping the oil paintings off the wall.

Cola, who was rushing in front, suddenly saw Lu Chen's stern face and was so frightened that it frantically scratched at the polished floor with its four paws. It couldn't stop in time and its whole rear end slammed into the wainscoting at the base of the wall. Only then did it timidly tuck its tail between its legs.

Little Lu Qian followed behind, clutching two leashes in his hands, his little face flushed from running.

He was wearing a white cotton T-shirt and dark blue shorts today, with a pair of small leather shoes on his feet, the heels clicking loudly on the floor as he ran. A servant followed behind, carrying two bottles of water and a canvas bag.

"Daddy!" When Lu Qian saw Lu Chen, he quickly slowed down and stood up straight, panting.

Then, he saw the three people behind Lu Chen.

"Hello, Grandpa Bao."

"Oh, good, good," Bao Chuanwang's wrinkles immediately curled into a chrysanthemum as he bent down and patted Lu Qian's head: "Qianzi has grown taller again! You were only this small last time I saw you."

"Hehehe..." The little guy scratched the corner of his clothes a little shyly.

"Hello, Grandpa Huo."

Huo Daheng took a step forward, leaning on his cane. Instead of touching his head, he bent down earnestly and patted Lu Qian's shoulder with his free hand: "Good lad, you've grown strong. In two more years, you can learn to ride horses with your dad."

"Really?" Lu Qian's eyes lit up, and he turned to look at Lu Chen.

Lu Chen didn't say anything, but the corners of his mouth curved slightly.

"Hello, Grandpa Li."

"Don't call me Grandpa, just call me Uncle," Li Shutang said with a smile, squatting down to look Lu Qian in the eye. "Sweetie, is this Coke and Sprite?"

"Okay!" Lu Qian held up the frisbee he was holding. "I'm going to take them to the garden."

"Go ahead," Li Shutang stood up and stepped aside, "but don't just play around, remember to study hard."

The shipping magnate scoffed from the side, "You old fogey, all you can say are those four words."

"Also," Li Shutang paused, looking at Xiao Luqian, "don't learn to smoke like your dad when you grow up."

Little Lu Qian nodded seriously: "I don't smoke any, because Daddy has already smoked all the cigarettes in the house!"

All four of them laughed.

Little Lu Qian was embarrassed by the laughter, blushed and said "Goodbye, grandpas," then grabbed Coke and Sprite and ran off in a flash.

Cola and Sprite followed behind on all fours, their tails wagging happily, the bells around their necks jingling all the way in the afternoon sunlight.

The four stood there watching for a moment, then Lu Chen looked away and turned his head slightly towards the stairs.

……

The reception room on the second floor was small, with a long Chinese-style table made of rosewood, and six matching official's hat chairs. On the wall hung a painting, "Sunrise at Mount Tai," which Lu Chen had brought back from China. It was unsigned, and the painting skills were not particularly exquisite, but its grandeur was its greatest strength.

The four sat on opposite sides. Mary brought over a pot of freshly brewed Pu'er tea and four thin-walled white porcelain cups before leaving. The aroma of the tea gradually spread in the enclosed space, mingling with the lingering scent of the cigars to create a unique ambiance.

The atmosphere gradually calmed down, and the relaxed shell that had been there before cracked open, revealing the true nature beneath.

Lu Chen spoke first.

"I received news from the four major property owners a few days ago that the demolition compensation plan for Kowloon Walled City has been basically finalized." He moved his teacup to the side, making room in the center of the table. "Director Guo's intention is that if everything goes smoothly, the site will be cleared by the end of September, and the demolition will officially begin in early October. The demolition will be carried out in three phases: the eastern area first, the western area in the second phase, and the triangular area last. The entire construction period is expected to be fourteen to eighteen months."

The shipping magnate brought the teacup to his lips, but didn't drink: "So soon?"

"Well, it's all part of the aftermath of the Return to the Tower Project. The newly appointed Wei Yixin also knows that this has turned from a cake into a hot potato, so he wants to end it as soon as possible," Lu Chen said, taking a sip of tea.

"According to statistics, there are still about 30,000 residents in Kowloon Walled City. Adding to this the various unlicensed shops, underground factories, and illegal clinics, the government needs to resettle a considerable number of people. The good news is that the resettlement housing is almost complete—the planned public housing in Kowloon Bay has a capacity of about 20,000 households, with the remainder being relocated to other newly built public housing estates. Compensation is divided into three levels: those with formal tenancy agreements will receive 70% of the market price; those without tenancy agreements but with proof of long-term residence will receive 60%; and those without either tenancy agreements or proof of long-term residence will receive a unified demolition compensation payment and must voluntarily move out within three months."

"Is three months enough?" The shipping magnate frowned and put down his teacup. He was in the business of port and dock development and was very familiar with demolition and relocation—clearing 30,000 people in three months was not the actual number on paper.

"Time is indeed tight," Lu Chen frankly admitted, "but this time the foreign government's attitude is very firm, and we can't delay. The longer we delay, the more holdouts there will be, and the more time the gangs inside will have to organize a counterattack."

Huo Daheng tapped his cane lightly on the ground, making a dry, crisp sound: "Ah Chen, are you planning to involve all three of our families?"

"Yes." Lu Chen looked at them. "Regarding the resettlement issue, the three of us have sizable housing developments under construction in Kowloon Bay. I plan to talk to the government to accept some of the resettled residents at a price slightly below market value. This will greatly reduce the relocation pressure in the Walled City area."

This approach will certainly result in slightly lower profits, but the government will also provide subsidies, absolutely guaranteeing no losses. More importantly, it allows for rapid capital accumulation, which can then be invested in the development of the next property project.

The shipping magnate nodded and said, "That's not a problem."

Lu Chen continued, "In addition, there's the matter of public security, which mainly relies on Inspector Li."

The three of them turned their gaze to Li Shutang.

"Mr. Li, there are at least eight or nine gangs and societies of varying sizes entrenched in the walled city, along with more than twenty smaller groups whose names I can't even recall. Don't worry about the largest, the Dragon City Gang; I'll have Uncle Long manage it. But those other outlaws will require your intervention," Lu Chen said to Li Shutang.

When this was mentioned, Li Shutang was well-prepared. He nodded and said, "Once the demolition officially starts, the two biggest risks are: first, they will take advantage of the chaos to move large amounts of property, weapons and contraband from inside the fortress to the surrounding streets; second, they will take advantage of the registration and resettlement opportunity to try to launder their identities."

"Clear your identity." Huo Daheng repeated these four words, his brows furrowed.

“That’s right,” Li Shutang nodded and continued to explain, “Many people in the Walled City don’t have legal status in Hong Kong. They were either born in the Walled City, or they came from the mainland or Southeast Asian countries, and many of them even went there to hide after committing crimes. These people don’t have any household registration records. In the past, they survived by relying on the spontaneous order within the Walled City, by cash transactions, and by gangs to maintain basic order. But now that the Walled City is going to be demolished, they have to face a new question—who are you?”

He paused, tracing the rim of his teacup with his fingertip. "I've heard that the government might cooperate by issuing replacement ID cards during the registration and resettlement process to ensure a smooth demolition process. Once this window is opened, people will exploit it. These criminals will find ways to turn fake identities into real ones, turn illicit money into legitimate assets, and relocate their influence from the Walled City to other neighborhoods in Kowloon and the New Territories. So demolishing the Walled City doesn't mean the problem is solved—it just moves the cancer from one place to another."

"Those small fry are manageable, but if those with large amounts of illicit funds launder their money, they'll use tens or hundreds of millions of dollars of legitimate funds to bid for government public projects, pier development rights, and redevelopment plans in Kowloon West. At that point, it won't be something the police force can handle. We won't even have a clear understanding of their background."

There was a moment of silence in the conference room, broken only by the sound of airflow from the air conditioner vents and the occasional chirping of birds from outside the window.

Then, Lu Chen spoke.

"You three don't need to worry about this," he said casually, picking up his teacup. "I have a complete list—whether it's the Big Circle Gang, gang members, or remnants of the KMT. I have all the information, including who wants to launder their money, who is currently doing so, when their company was registered, and through what channels the funds were transferred. I will give a copy to Inspector Lee at the same time."

Huo Daheng looked up at him, a hint of surprise in his eyes.

Are you prepared?

"I won't bring this up today without preparation." Lu Chen took a sip of tea and put the cup back.

Huo Daheng stared at him for a moment, then slowly nodded. The taut skin on his face seemed to relax, and he leaned back in his chair, letting out a long breath.

"Okay. Since you're prepared, I'm relieved."

But his expression wasn't completely relaxed; there was still an unresolved sorrow between his brows.

"Mr. Huo," Lu Chen put down his teacup and leaned forward slightly, "Is there anything else?"

Huo Daheng did not answer immediately, but looked down at his left hand resting on his knee. The skin on that hand was loose, with an age spot on the web between the thumb and forefinger, and the knuckles were slightly deformed from years of holding a cane.

Recalling the unusually harsh and agitated tone Huo Daheng displayed when mentioning Stanley Ho in the downstairs cigar room, Lu Chen's heart stirred slightly, and he tentatively posed a name: "...Is it related to the gambling king Ho?"

After a long silence, Huo Daheng sighed softly and slowly said, "I plan to sell my shares in SJM Holdings."