Hong Kong variety show: From being bitten by a cockroach to becoming a legend

Chapter 152 Idols for Young People

"What's a pity?" Zhuo Lan asked subconsciously.

"It's a pity you've guarded this for so many years, but tonight it's my turn." Song Zhaowen's lips curled into a wicked smile as he lowered his head, almost touching her lips, and said, "But don't worry, although I'm not exactly a good person, I always—cherish—clean things."

Zhuo Lan's cheeks instantly turned red, and even her neck was tinged with pink.

She wanted to call him arrogant and shameless, but her lips were sealed by his hot breath, her body was imprisoned by his strong arms, her mind was in chaos, and her heart was pounding like a drum.

"You—uh—"

All the unspoken words were silenced by a sudden, domineering, and passionate kiss.

Song Zhaowen no longer gave her any chance to think or back down.

He held the back of her head with one hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist, locking her firmly in his embrace. His kiss was forceful and deep, carrying an irresistible possessiveness and a sense of conquest.

Zhuo Lan initially stiffened, trying to push him away with her hands against his chest, but the difference in strength was too great and it had no effect.

"laugh----"

The zipper, which was already half-open, was pulled open completely.

The black bodysuit, like shed snakeskin, silently slid onto the carpet.

Zhuo Lan let out a short gasp and instinctively tried to hug herself, but Song Zhaowen anticipated her move, grabbed her wrist, and held her to his side.

In the dim light, the body that had once been outlined by the tight-fitting clothes, with its breathtaking curves, was presented to him without any concealment.

Her skin glowed with a warm, ivory-like sheen in the night, its lines smooth yet powerful, every undulation perfectly proportioned, like the finest sculpture.

The tension and chill caused tiny bumps to appear on her skin, adding to her alluring fragility.

Song Zhaowen's breathing paused slightly.

Even though he was a seasoned veteran of romance, his eyes still flashed with undisguised amazement and fervent passion.

"Indeed—very clean," and very beautiful. He murmured in admiration, his voice hoarse with desire.

Zhuo Lan kept her eyes tightly closed, her eyelashes trembling violently, and her skin was slightly flushed from shame and the coolness of the air.

Without further hesitation, Song Zhaowen bent down, slipped his arms under her legs, and lifted her up horizontally.

Zhuo Lan gasped and instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.

Song Zhaowen carried her and strode toward the enormous, round waterbed in the center of the bedroom.

Zhuo Lan sank into the soft mattress, meeting Song Zhaowen's condescending and aggressive gaze.

His gaze was like a flame, threatening to devour her completely.

"It's not too late to regret it now. The door isn't locked, you can leave anytime."

Zhuo Lan looked at the face so close to hers—handsome, dangerous, and exuding control. This was the man who had utterly defeated her at the gambling table, then "forgave" her in a way that was almost humiliating, and now he had driven her to this predicament.

Regret? Perhaps. But Zhuo Lan would never take back what she had said! That indomitable spirit—the impulse to understand this man—once again overwhelmed everything.

She suddenly reached out, hooked her arm around Song Zhaowen's neck, pulled him towards her, and leaned in close!

They were unfamiliar with each other, but also very enthusiastic.

Song Zhaowen was taken aback at first, then chuckled and began to take the initiative.

This was an evenly matched contest, a comprehensive battle of both physical and mental prowess.

I don't know how much time passed.

Zhuo Lan's eyes were unfocused, her mind was blank, as if her soul had been taken away.

The aches and pains that emanated from various parts of her body reminded her of what had just happened.

Song Zhaowen lay on his side next to her, one hand still possessively resting on her waist, the other hand behind his head, staring at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling slightly.

Silence spread through the room, which was filled with an ambiguous atmosphere.

After a long while, Zhuo Lan slowly regained some strength and consciousness.

She tried to move and get up, but the arm around her waist tightened its grip.

"Where to?" Song Zhaowen's voice was languid and hoarse afterward.

"----bath."

"Together?" Song Zhaowen turned his head to look at her, a satisfied smile on his lips.

"Dream on!" Zhuo Lan forcefully pried his hands off and struggled to sit up.

Barefoot, I walked towards the luxurious bathroom that connected to the bedroom.

Song Zhaowen lay on the bed, lit a cigarette, and the smoke slowly rose.

This woman—interesting.

About twenty minutes later, Zhuo Lan came out of the bathroom. She had put her black night clothes back on, the zipper was zipped up tightly, her hair was still wet and hanging over her shoulders, her face had regained its previous coolness, but there was still a trace of redness at the corners of her eyes, and her lips were slightly swollen.

She didn't even glance at Song Zhaowen on the bed, and went straight to the French windows on the terrace.

"You're leaving already?" Song Zhaowen asked, exhaling a smoke ring.

Zhuo Lan stopped in her tracks, her back to him, her voice calm and even: "The debt is paid off."

"That's all?" Song Zhaowen raised an eyebrow. "Just a fast food meal?"

Zhuo Lan's back seemed to stiffen for a moment, but she didn't turn around: "Otherwise what? What else does Song Sheng want? Romance? Or do you want me to stay and be one of your women?"

The sarcasm in her tone was obvious.

Clearly, Song Zhaowen understood him very well. Song Zhaowen smiled, stubbed out his cigarette, and sat up as well: "At least, leave me your contact information? Or—tell me where you're from? Will we have a chance to meet again in the future?"

Zhuo Lan slowly turned around, water droplets dripping from her hair, leaving dark stains on her black clothes.

His gaze remained cool and aloof, but it held a more complex meaning than before.

"After tonight, we're even. When we meet again in the martial world, whether we're enemies or friends will depend on our own abilities."

Having said that, like a nimble black cat, she gracefully vaulted over the terrace railing, her figure disappearing into the deep night outside and the faint sound of distant waves.

Song Zhaowen walked into the bathroom and looked at the fresh scratches on his shoulder in the mirror, his smile deepening.

This woman is like an untamed wild horse, a black rose with thorns. But it is precisely because of this that the process of conquering her and the aftertaste are all the more flavorful.

The Macau ferry terminal was shrouded in the early morning mist.

Like a weary behemoth returning home, the "Starship" rests quietly in its designated berth. A stark contrast to the dazzling festivities of the previous night, only cleaning staff are now diligently working on the deck, quickly erasing any trace of last night's revelry.

Further out, media outlets from all walks of life rushed to the scene with their cameras and microphones. The results of last night's "God of Gamblers Tournament" had already been transmitted throughout Hong Kong and Macau via satellite signal. Song Zhaowen's name, along with the explosive phrase "400 million in cash," firmly occupied the front page headlines of all newspapers today.

"Look, they're coming out!" a reporter whispered.

At the ship's railing, Song Zhaowen appeared, surrounded by a group of trusted confidants. Besides Xiao Zhuoxiao and Tony, Ye Rongtian, the general manager of Wenji, who had come specially for the occasion, was also by his side.

"Brother Wen, all the accounts and cash on the ship have been counted and sealed," Xiao Zhuoxiao reported in a low voice, handing over a list: "As you instructed, divide it into three parts. Standard Chartered and HSBC's armored trucks will be picking up the cash tomorrow! A total of three hundred million."

Song Zhaowen nodded, his gaze falling on Ye Rongtian: "Rongtian, is everything alright with Hengsheng?"

Ye Rongtian adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses: "Don't worry, Mr. Song, my uncle (Ye Sheng) has already made the arrangements. Although Heng Sheng doesn't have its own armed escort, they've officially commissioned the West Kowloon Police Station's escort service. With those cops providing escort, there won't be any problems at all."

Ye Sheng is a legendary figure. He started out in the 1950s and 60s by lending money in triads. But he was a smart man and realized that running a bank was no different from lending money, as both involved making money from interest. During the oil crisis and wave of bank failures in the 1960s, he obtained a banking license and established Hong Kong's first Chinese bank.

It has been thirty years since then, and it once enjoyed immense glory.

However, his eldest son, Ye Yongji, died in a car accident last year. Ye Sheng, an elderly man, lost his son and fell ill overnight. His second son, Ye Yongchang, is a spoiled brat who is good at maintaining the status quo in the banking business but not good at making progress.

This greatly diminished shareholders' and depositors' confidence in Hengsheng, causing the stock price to plummet.

The best way to stabilize the stock price is to attract large depositors and restore market confidence.

The 400 million yuan in cash on the Galaxy couldn't just sit on the ship and get moldy, so it had to be deposited in a bank. Many banks in the city were vying for it, including Hengsheng.

Originally, Song Zhaowen had chosen Standard Chartered and HSBC.

But that's unfortunate~

Ye Sheng's second brother's branch, his nephew Ye Rongtian, is the general manager of Song Zhaowen.

So they entrusted the matter to Ye Rongtian.

Ye Rongtian asked for help, and Song Zhaowen, being his brother, was giving him face.

(PS: Ye Sheng, from the TV series "The Heaven Sword and Dragon Saber")

Song Zhaowen smiled and said, "I only deposited this money into Hengsheng because of you. But the thought of those guys in West Kowloon personally escorting the money to me, whom they hate the most, makes me feel extremely happy!"

"Brother Xie Wen, my uncle means that we must host a proper banquet for you when we have the chance."

"It's just a mutually beneficial arrangement, no need to be so polite." Song Zhaowen patted Ye Rongtian on the shoulder: "Let's go, get off the bus first and meet your second cousin, Ye Yongchang."

As the group descended the gangway, the dock was already packed with media outlets.

Who can blame them? Song Zhaowen has been the talk of the town these past two days!

The gangsters, born in public housing, have low levels of education.

He rose step by step to become a powerful figure in the underworld, the new leader of the Zhengxing Society, the chairman of the Wenji Group, the owner of the Xinghe gambling ship, and the new gambling god of Hong Kong and Macau.

His life experiences are simply phenomenal!

He's an idol to many young people now.

Whoever gets an interview with him gets a huge boost in ratings; he's truly the hottest topic of the day.

"Mr. Song, how does it feel to become the new God of Gamblers?"

"You won all 400 million in cash? People say you were both a bookmaker and involved yourself; your behavior is too ugly."

"What are your plans for this huge sum of money? Do you intend to use it for charity?"

"There are rumors that you have a close relationship with the heiress of the Huangtian Group. Is this true?"

As Song Zhaowen descended the gangway, facing the swarm of media with their cameras and a barrage of questions, he maintained his calm and composed smile, his steps unwavering. Tony and several burly henchmen steadily parted the crowd, clearing a path ahead.

"Excuse me, you bastard from TVB, you stepped on my foot!"

"Mr. Song, say a few words!"

"Song Sheng, look over here!"