It was January 1, 1994, the first day of the calendar year.
Although Hong Kong Island still followed the foreigners' laws, there was no such thing as a New Year's Day holiday.
But today was the start of a new year, after all, and it happened to fall on a weekend, so there were still two days off to mark the occasion.
As a rule, whenever Zhou Quan had a day off,
he would either spend it with Au Wing-yan or teach his First Disciple.
Today, however, Zhou Quan had made the rare choice to leave both of them behind.
After loading some gifts into the trunk of his off-road vehicle, Zhou Quan drove alone to the Xinhua News Agency Building on Queen's Road East.
Old Master Zhou had acknowledged him as his own grandnephew, so of course he had to visit the old man on New Year's Day.
The gifts were not particularly expensive. In fact, they could even be described as thoroughly plain and unassuming.
There was milk suitable for an elderly man, a packet of the tea Zhou Quan usually drank himself, and an enormous slab of pork belly from the motherland's northeast.
Apart from the tea Zhou Quan usually drank, the other gifts cost next to nothing.
As the saying went, a goose feather sent from a thousand miles away might be a humble gift, but it carried deep affection.
Though these gifts could hardly be called valuable, Zhou Quan had chosen every one carefully, and they undoubtedly represented his affection and thoughtfulness.
"Quan, lad, just come home. What did you bring all this for?"
When he saw Zhou Quan come through the door, Old Master Zhou gave him a look of feigned displeasure.
But judging by the way the old man's eyes had narrowed into