Expansion

On this day, news came from the mainland that there were some matters his subordinates couldn't handle, requiring him, the big boss, to step in personally. Consequently, he boarded a flight to Jingcheng.

What Wang Yan didn't know was that the translator he had hired back in the land of the Russians, after taking his money, had shared the story with a friend as an amusing anecdote. After all, anyone capable of working as a translator to make a living in this era was quite capable. And that friend's profession was—People's Police.

The civic duty of a police officer goes without saying; he reported it straight up the chain of command. Although it wasn't strictly his jurisdiction, he treated it as a major matter, and indeed, it was.

As the report climbed level by level, the matter finally landed on the desks of high-ranking leaders. For such figures, investigating someone was simple; in less than an hour, Wang Yan's detailed dossier was laid out before them.

In fact, they had been keeping an eye on Wang Yan. Ever since he turned the prison into a casino, he had entered the sight of the higher-ups. They believed that if Wang Yan didn't change his ways, he would certainly be unable to escape; they would have to take him down one way or another. However, the way Wang Yan conducted himself on his own turf, including the series of companies he established, changed the authorities' attitude toward him.

After all, Hong Kong Island was set to return to the motherland in just a few years, and stability was paramount. And Wang Yan, he could provide stability.

After Wang Yan stepped off the plane, before he could even leave the airport, he was surrounded by five or six people, with over twenty more scattered in the perimeter. They had his detailed file and were naturally aware of his combat prowess. There were dozens of people outside, all fearing that Wang Yan might bolt.

He felt no panic or confusion; Wang Yan had long anticipated this situation. Although he didn't know the translator had sold him out, he knew this was the capital, and a dangerous individual like him would naturally be on record. What made Wang Yan feel quite honored was that they had mobilized dozens of people to arrest him; this could be considered a form of recognition for his strength. In truth, Wang Yan wasn't that invincible; if seven or eight of these people had swarmed him at once, he would have been put down, as they were all elites.

Wang Yan was led into a car, his head covered with a hood, and taken through a series of left and right turns.

After the hood was removed and he looked around, he found himself locked in a small room with guards stationed outside.

After Wang Yan waited patiently for a while, footsteps echoed, and a middle-aged man in his forties walked in.

The man shook hands with Wang Yan and was just about to speak when Wang Yan interrupted him directly: "No need for introductions, I have a rough idea."

He then asked: "How should I address you?"

The man was stunned for a moment before saying: "My surname is Zhang."

"Then let's call you Old Zhang. I wonder if you brought me here because of Hong Kong Island or the Soviet Union business?" Wang Yan asked.

Old Zhang was somewhat surprised by Wang Yan's familiarity, his pragmatism, and his level of Mandarin: "Both."

Wang Yan thought for a moment and said firmly: "Maintaining the stability of Hong Kong Island, I can do that." His tone was full of confidence, brooking no doubt. Wang Yan didn't want to say too much about this, as it was useless; a country wouldn't trust a person based on mere words.

"The guns I bought from the Soviet Union were because they were high-quality and inexpensive, Old Zhang. I want to expand outward; Hong Kong Island is too small." Wang Yan spoke the truth; as for whether Old Zhang believed him, he didn't know.

Old Zhang pondered for a long while before saying to Wang Yan: "Is there anything you need our help with?" His main purpose in coming this time was to gauge Wang Yan's attitude, which was crucial. Old Zhang didn't care whether what Wang Yan said was true or not; words were useless, actions were what mattered. It was precisely because he saw that Wang Yan understood the grand trend, was pragmatic, and didn't harm the public that he was so easy to talk to.

"Of course there is. You know what I've been doing lately. I lived on Hong Kong Island for over twenty years without killing anyone. After killing this time, I believe you've sensed it too—my state is very unstable. I assume you have some understanding of this kind of thing; is there any solution or something?"

Old Zhang pondered for a moment and said: "This is a psychological issue, which can also be called a philosophical issue, or perhaps a matter of cultivation."

"Do you understand what I mean by that?"

Hearing Old Zhang put it this way, Wang Yan understood. Before, he hadn't known or even thought in this direction, but now, with someone pointing it out, many things clicked into place.

Our cultural heritage has been passed down for so many years that it has permeated our very bones. Confucianism speaks of the Golden Mean, and Taoism speaks of Wu Wei. Although Wang Yan hadn't studied these things, he had gone through nine years of compulsory education, so he knew a little bit.

Once he thought of the Golden Mean and Wu Wei, Wang Yan understood everything.

Fighting, when practiced to a certain level, is about a state of mind—the "three threes" theory mentioned by Guo Yunshen, and also the philosophy of "Intercept" by Bruce Lee. This is why fighting masters are all so damn cryptic; after all, their level of cultivation is high. Even if they have no formal education, the things they say can make you contemplate for a long time.

Of course, the saying goes "the poor study, the rich practice martial arts," so how could one practice martial arts without culture? All the skills Wang Yan possessed hadn't they been bought with money?

Ultimately, it was because Wang Yan had used four points of Constitution to fast-track his growth, lacking the corresponding cultivation and state of mind. It could also be said that he lacked the mental fortitude forged by constantly breaking through the limits of the body.

The lines from The Grandmaster could also explain Wang Yan's current situation.

"The true meaning of the blade is not in killing, but in concealment."

"The Old Ape Hangs the Seal and looks back; the barrier is not in the hanging of the seal, but in the looking back."

Without considering the original context, Wang Yan was exactly like that: he could release, but he couldn't retract.

Now that the solution was found, he just needed to read more books when he got back. Previously, Wang Yan had mostly read professional books and hadn't dabbled in traditional studies.

Otherwise, Wang Yan would have been truly worried about what to do when he returned to the real world; he wouldn't even be embarrassed to go out, as the feeling of scaring children to tears wasn't pleasant.

Afterward, Wang Yan and Old Zhang exchanged contact information, and after expressing that he could be reached if there were any issues on Hong Kong Island, he was sent away.

Wang Yan handled the matters in the country and made some plans, and there were no major issues left.

During this period, it took some time for the guns and artillery from the Russians to be transported to Hong Kong Island. After all, these were contraband items and difficult to move. Of course, any problem that could be solved with money wasn't a problem. After spending a significant amount of money, they were successfully transported to his territory.

The time reached May of 1992.

Wang Yan's forces were developing rapidly, changing with each passing day. Now, he had over a thousand subordinates, all carefully selected fighters, each one daring and fierce. The logistics company and the shoe factory were also booming; just the families of Wang Yan's underlings numbered five or six thousand. It could be said that once one joined Dragon Ascending, the whole family was honored.

What pleasantly surprised Wang Yan was that the acquired MPEG technology had been successfully developed, and the VCD was also nearly ready; in another two months, it would be finalized and mass-produced. A golden, radiant path was slowly unfolding before Wang Yan.

Wang Yan hurriedly had his lawyers register various companies, including Dragon Ascending Technology, Dragon Ascending Film, and Dragon Ascending VCD, along with trademarks and the like, frantically registering them globally.

He sent a few underlings to the mainland to start investing in building factories in Shenzhen, setting up production lines, and recruiting workers. The reason for opening in the mainland was simple: low costs, good policies, driving regional economic development, earning foreign exchange, and so on—there were many benefits. Most importantly, one had to sit on the right side and have a good attitude. After all, Old Zhang and the others knew exactly where his money came from; a little brother had to know how to handle things.

Now that Wang Yan's strength was quite sufficient, he didn't want to engage in useless things anymore.

Finding an open space nearby, Wang Yan gathered his thousand subordinates. Looking at his men, all dressed in suits and looking vigorous, Wang Yan delivered an inspiring speech.

Although the families of his subordinates mostly worked for Dragon Ascending, Wang Yan still needed to brainwash them. Because an organization without a goal or a belief could not last long.

Wang Yan said a lot, but it could be summarized in one sentence: "Just follow me and get it done."

After a passionate speech, Wang Yan stood on the stage with unparalleled dominance and said: "Brothers, Tuen Mun belongs to Dragon Ascending, and it can only belong to Dragon Ascending."

The subordinates below erupted in a roar; they had long wanted to expand. Don't look at other gangs that claimed to have tens of thousands of members; whether they could actually field a few thousand fighters was an unknown.

The group under Wang Yan were all elite Guhuozi who understood these things clearly. They had long been itching for action; after all, if they didn't fight, how could they show their worth, and without opportunities to show their worth, how could they rise in the ranks?

Wang Yan didn't waste time on useless things and directly issued the order to sweep through Tuen Mun in a single night.

The news that Tuen Mun had changed hands overnight spread, shaking the Hong Kong Island underworld to its core.

There was no helping it; in the past, those who entered the underworld joined traditional triads. Very few struck out on their own, let alone managed to make a name for themselves. Thus, the underworld in Hong Kong Island had always been a playground for the same few established triads.

Although Wang Yan had previously cut into their profits by offering his underlings high wages, they hadn't taken him seriously. He was just a thug who could fight, but what was the use of being able to fight? Wouldn't a single burst of gunfire end it all? They simply dismissed him as a fool with too much money and paid him no mind.

This time was different, and they had all received the news. Wang Yan had mobilized over a thousand thugs in one go, which immediately forced the various bosses to look at him in a new light.

Guhuozi fights were usually just posturing and shouting, with very few people willing to risk their lives. Wang Yan's men, however, were thugs who were desperate to climb the ranks; they didn't fear death and fought with ruthless efficiency. As they leveled up, their benefits increased rapidly, and even their families benefited.

Their families worked in logistics companies, shoe factories, and other businesses, which were also filled with the families of other underlings. When they chatted, if your rank was low, your family wouldn't have much to say. Where there was social interaction, there was comparison, and where there was comparison, there were cliques.

This incident made these bosses, who had lived comfortable lives for too long, feel a sense of crisis. This was the underworld; they no longer dared to fight or struggle, and they no longer desperately sought to climb the ranks. They had started indulging in wine and song, enjoying their lives. Having been comfortable for too long, they were practically dead already.

Every boss was busy gathering intelligence, wanting to know exactly what Wang Yan's stance was so they could decide how to deal with him.

Ni Yongxiao called Wang Yan to offer his congratulations the moment he received the news, as he knew exactly how vicious Wang Yan could be. Back when Wang Yan was paying off his debts, he had already sent people to secretly track and investigate him, so he knew how ruthless Wang Yan was when he played for keeps. Therefore, his tone on the phone was extremely polite; he knew things weren't like they used to be. In the past, he could have manipulated Wang Yan, but now, to put it bluntly, Wang Yan could crush him like an ant if he wanted to.

After enduring the flattery on the phone, Wang Yan turned his attention to the post-battle statistics.

He used company funds to cover medical expenses and hospital care for the injured. Then, he tallied up the contributions of each underling who had distinguished themselves in battle, promoting and rewarding them accordingly.

Wang Yan had previously opened a law firm staffed by capable elite lawyers. He had his uninjured underlings take these lawyers street by street to sign contracts, though the exact revenue figures would take some time to calculate.

The main priority was to establish a system of rewards and punishments; as a boss, one had to provide subordinates with a path to advancement, or else no one would follow you if they couldn't see a future.

He also had to prepare for the inevitable counterattacks and crackdowns.

Tuen Mun was not ownerless land; it had been Tung Sing territory. Now that Wang Yan had seized it without a word, he was bound to face Tung Sing's retaliation.

Of course, Wang Yan had to consider the police force's reaction when he pulled this stunt.

Upon receiving the news that Wang Yan had taken a thousand men out onto the streets, the police force had been thrown into a state of chaos, scrambling about for the entire night.

Before the police could come looking for trouble, Wang Yan led a group of his men and over a dozen cars in a grand procession straight to the Tuen Mun Police Station.

When the officers saw Wang Yan's group arrive, they were absolutely livid. You bastard, you cause such a massive incident, and now you dare to come to the police station to demonstrate? This was intolerable.

Led by a Senior Inspector, dozens of police officers swarmed out, nervously raising their guns in a standoff against Wang Yan's men.

Wang Yan stepped forward and parted the crowd.

"Officers, please put your guns down. No need to be so tense."

"Isn't there a saying about the police and the public being like fish and water? You officers risk your lives to protect the safety of us residents, so I've come to offer my condolences to you all."

As he spoke, he turned his head and said to his men behind him, "Well? Bring the stuff up."

Seeing him act this way, the Senior Inspector waved his hand, and the officers lowered their guns, watching with curiosity to see what Wang Yan had brought.

Two trucks rumbled over, and the underlings opened the doors. Wang Yan said to the inspector, "Officer, these are some milk teas and cold drinks, along with meals packed from various restaurants. You officers have been busy all night, so I'm sure you haven't had time to eat. Consider this a small gesture of appreciation from me, Wang Yan."

After saying this, he instructed his men, "Come on, brothers, go and distribute these to the officers on the scene and those working inside."

The underlings moved with practiced efficiency, working in pairs—one carrying a stack of meals, the other a bag of assorted cold drinks—and marched right into the police station.

The underlings didn't care about anything else; their boss had said to give one to every single officer, and he meant every single one. Therefore, they didn't care about rank. Whether you were an inspector or a Superintendent, whether you were working in the lobby or in an office, it didn't matter what you were doing—if they saw someone empty-handed, they shoved a meal and a cold drink into their hands.

The officers in the station were stunned. A group of men in suits and leather shoes were rampaging through the police station.

The police didn't know what was happening and didn't dare to act rashly, so they just watched as the group went from floor to floor handing out food.

As for Wang Yan, he took a meal and, led by the inspector, went straight to the office of the Police Chief.