Twenty minutes later, a black van pulled up silently in front of the breakfast stall, the rear window sliding down to reveal a face that was slightly sallow.

Wang Zhuo immediately got up and walked over, and the two men who had been watching Wang Zhuo turned their heads away and looked down as soon as they saw the long face, never sparing Wang Zhuo another glance.

The long face scrutinized Wang Zhuo for a moment, then nodded. "Get in."

This long face belonged to Ding Ren, a man whose features were as elongated as his limbs and indeed his entire frame; his shoulders were narrow, his physique lean, as if a normal person of about 1.7 meters had been forcibly stretched into someone over 1.8 meters tall—an appearance instantly memorable.

The exterior of the black van was unassuming, but the interior was sumptuously appointed, though without the garishness of the nouveau riche; instead, it exuded an air of restrained opulence.

Once Wang Zhuo was seated, the van began to move smoothly, devoid of any engine vibration, silent and steady. Though Wang Zhuo knew little about automobiles, he could tell this vehicle was expensive.

This time, Ding Ren was not his usual man of few words; instead, he smiled and asked, "Director Wang, have you heard you've become famous?"

Wang Zhuo immediately understood he was referring to the video clip, chuckling, "Uncle Daozi, you saw it too? I haven't even watched it myself."

The stout youth in the front passenger seat overheard this and cheerfully turned around. "Whether you watch it or not, I have it right here on my phone!"

"Let's get down to business first, you two can joke around later," Ding Ren said, patting the stout youth's shoulder. The stout man nodded, throwing Wang Zhuo a friendly smile.

Ding Ren turned his attention back to Wang Zhuo. "Show me the check."

Wang Zhuo nodded, taking out a rigid card holder from inside his jacket and handing it over.

Ding Ren took it, opened it, and carefully examined the check tucked inside. After nodding, he returned it to Wang Zhuo and said, speaking slowly and deliberately, "There are a few things I need to make clear upfront."

Wang Zhuo took back the card holder and met Ding Ren's gaze steadily.

"As you know, I run a pawn shop these past few years. It’s mostly a front, a cover for high-interest lending and loan sharking. I’m not the type to move unless there’s a profit, but helping your father get a reduced sentence isn't going to make me much money—it’s just covering travel and service fees."

"Thank you, Uncle Daozi," Wang Zhuo replied naturally, following his lead. As for how much Ding Ren would actually profit, Wang Zhuo wasn't lacking for money right now and certainly wasn't going to haggle.

"A sentence reduction usually comes down to two reasons: a major meritorious service, or consistently good conduct," Ding Ren continued. "Your father's sentence is quite long; if he wants to get out early, he needs a major contribution. That requires coordination with others, which incurs certain costs, so don't complain about the price."

The stout youth in the front seat turned and interjected, "For example, reporting an old convict planning an escape is a big achievement. The person reported gets extra time, and of course, that earns you money."

"Don't worry, these are all voluntary; we don't force anyone," Ding Ren smiled. "There are plenty of people eager to earn that money. Staying inside for two more years could earn them enough to buy a two-bedroom apartment, which they wouldn't earn on the outside."

Wang Zhuo, the stout youth, and the burly driver all laughed. Ding Ren’s words were humorous yet pointed, laying bare a certain reality of this world.

"Of course, there are other areas where money needs to grease the wheels, but I'm not bragging, Old Daozi—with your father's sentence length, if someone else handled this, there wouldn't be much reduction. Getting him out by the end of next year would be good; even money doesn't guarantee much more."

Wang Zhuo let out a sincerely appreciative hum, deeply convinced by Ding Ren's words. In fact, the first time he had called Ding Ren, hearing that his father might be out this year had already surprised him with joy.

"That’s all I needed to say," Ding Ren finished, reaching over to pull out a handheld gaming device and immediately starting to play Tetris.

"Director Wang!" the stout youth in the front turned around, extending his right hand. "Let's introduce ourselves. My name is Ding Baoji, nickname Ji Ding!"

Wang Zhuo shook his hand, thinking to himself that it was no wonder the man was called Ji Ding (Diced Chicken), as his name sounded so much like Gong Bao Ji Ding (Kung Pao Chicken).

Ji Ding nodded toward the driver and told Wang Zhuo, "This driving fool is Yuan Dakai, alias Big Head."

"Your whole family are big heads," Yuan Dakai grumbled at Ji Ding, waving a hand at Wang Zhuo through the rearview mirror.

Ji Ding ignored Yuan Dakai and laughed toward Wang Zhuo, "Our boss was planning, if you couldn't come up with all that money, he was going to lend you some, but it seems that’s not necessary now."

Wang Zhuo let out a dry chuckle. "Better not; his interest rates are too high."

"Haha, you always speak the plain truth!" Ji Ding clapped his hands. "Actually, he said he wouldn't charge interest because your skillset is perfectly suited for collecting debts with us."

Ding Ren, engrossed in Tetris, grunted noncommittally without looking up.

Being valued for this made Wang Zhuo offer a wry smile. "But I don't look fierce enough; I probably lack intimidation factor."

"What of it!" Driver Yuan Da Tou laughed. "Just go to a beauty salon and get yourself a tanning session, like Louis Koo!"

Ding Baoji slapped his knee and cheered, "You know what? Louis Koo was a pretty boy when he was running with thugs, but when his career stalled, he went and got tanned dark, and bam! He blew up!"

Wang Zhuo shook his head with a bitter smile. "Gentlemen, please, stop joking. I plan to take the civil service exam in the future."

"Civil service exam?" Baoji looked slightly surprised. "You’ve got ambition, kid. The college entrance exams are coming up soon, how are your scores? What major are you planning to apply for?"

"My scores..." Wang Zhuo felt this wasn't the time for modesty, nor was there any need for it, so he answered honestly, "Getting into a Tier One university shouldn't be a problem, right? I haven't decided on a major yet."

"Tier One?" The stout man was taken aback.

Even Ding Ren, who had been playing the handheld game, paused his game and looked at Wang Zhuo with a different expression than before. "You can get into a Tier One school?"

"A top-tier school like Tsinghua or Peking University is probably out of reach, but a regular Tier One should be fine," Wang Zhuo stated what he believed to be the truth; even the person whose work he had plagiarized wasn't confident about Tsinghua or Peking, so he certainly couldn't be.

"Ji Ding, what's Tier One?" Yuan Dakai asked.

"You don't even know what Tier One is? Drive the car," Ding Baoji replied irritably.

Yuan Dakai chuckled and said lecherously, "So what if I don't know Tier One? I know Ichi Ban Dai and Tokyo Hot."

"Have you decided which major to apply for?" Ding Ren's gaze seemed somewhat eager.

Wang Zhuo shook his head. "Not yet. Uncle Daozi, do you have any suggestions?"

"Is that even a question?" Ding Ren exclaimed excitedly. "Of course, it's the Police Academy! You must apply to the police academy, join the public security, procuratorate, or judiciary later!"

Wang Zhuo was speechless. He had long heard that organized crime figures dearly wished to have relatives in the judicial system, and seeing this firsthand confirmed it. This scenario felt oddly reminiscent of a Hong Kong movie like Infernal Affairs.

Then, he thought about it again: being a police officer didn't sound bad. His special ability could certainly help solve cases, especially capturing drug traffickers—that would be child's play!