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

Chapter 153 Teasing the Beautiful Reporter

The area beneath the ship was filled with long guns and short cannons.

There were also many young men on the periphery shouting that they wanted to work for Song Zhaowen's men.

If it weren't for the many brothers forming a human wall to block them, the microphone would probably have been shoved right in front of their noses.

Tony sidled up to his boss with an envious look and said, "Boss, you're so popular. I don't think even big stars have as much of a entourage as you."

Upon hearing this, Song Zhaowen scoffed and lowered his voice, saying, "Tony, this is called a false sense of power. Today you're powerful, so they treat you like a god; the day you're down, they'll be the ones who trample on you the hardest. This kind of hype is just something to be taken lightly; don't take it seriously."

"Hey, hey, hey, don't push! Brother Wen said he'd only accept one interview." Tony stood in front of his boss.

The television stations were even more excited.

"Mr. Song, you were looking for me? I'm from TVB!"

"Song Sheng, do you remember me? I'm Ah May. I was the first one to report for the Pissing Beef Balls..."

'

But Song Zhaowen remained calm and collected, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. The excited faces, the raised microphones, and the flashing cameras were nothing more than a noisy backdrop to him. Until his gaze passed over the throng of heads and landed on a slightly quieter spot on the outer edge.

There was a female reporter standing there.

The off-white fitted suit accentuated her shapely figure, and her long hair was pulled back, revealing her slender, fair neck and a bright yet dignified face.

It was Huang Jieyi, the leading lady of Taiwan Island TV, who was broadcasting live from the pier yesterday before the start of the game.

A pair of eyes as clear as autumn water looked over from across the crowd and met Song Zhaowen's gaze, carrying just the right amount of shyness and curiosity.

Among a group of restless reporters, she stood out like a lotus flower emerging from clear water.

(P.S.: Image inspired by Yvonne Yung.)

"Perfect!" Song Zhaowen's eyes lit up. Before he became rich, he could never have gotten the attention of a beauty of this caliber. Even if he were handsome, it wouldn't have mattered. Such high-quality women were only available to the strong.

What difference does it make who I interview? Rather than letting those noisy paparazzi bother me, I might as well—let this beautiful woman have her way. At least, it's pleasing to the eye.

He raised his hand, gesturing in Huang Jieyi's direction.

The sharp-eyed Song Zhaowen naturally noticed Huang Jieyi's name tag and knew her name.

"Miss Huang will do."

The scene fell silent for a moment, followed by even greater outrage from other media outlets: "Mr. Song! Why are you only coming out?"

"My XX Daily arrived first!"

"Song Sheng, this isn't fair! Does having a bigger bob mean you have a chance?"

Huang Jieyi was also slightly taken aback, clearly not expecting this powerful figure in the underworld to single her out. But she reacted quickly, immediately squeezing to the front under the cover of the cameraman, a sweet smile on her face: "Thank you, Mr. Song, for giving me this opportunity."

Song Zhaowen gestured for them to proceed, and the two walked towards a relatively sheltered corner of a container yard on the pier. Tony and several of his men stood in a semi-circle, separating themselves from the other media trying to follow.

Of course, privately, Song Zhaowen also told Tony that every reporter present would receive a red envelope of 10,000 cash. These people are the uncrowned kings, and if you offend them, who knows what they will write in the newspapers tomorrow.

As the saying goes, the pen has the narrowest heart.

"Mr. Song, first of all, congratulations on winning the title of 'God of Gamblers'." Huang Jieyi adjusted the microphone and got straight to the point: "There are doubts from the outside world, saying that since you are both the organizer of the competition and a participant, it seems like you are acting as both the banker and the player. What's your opinion?"

Song Zhaowen remained unfazed, even displaying a hint of sarcasm: "The rules are clearly written in black and white, and the eligibility for participation is open and transparent. If I participate, I'll have one more card and one less penny. A win is a win. If I can't play just because I'm the boat owner, is that considered unfair? As for criticism—if you win a lot, naturally some people will be envious and say all sorts of things."

My time is too precious to waste on explaining things to those envious bastards.

With such a huge sum of money, what are your specific plans? Will you consider giving back to society, such as through charitable donations? After all, the public has very high expectations of you.

"I know how to manage money."

"However, it can be said that both Cheng Hing and Man Kee will have greater development because of this funding. Man Kee will open more factories and hire more people; Cheng Hing is also preparing to transform. Creating jobs and stabilizing the community, isn't this a way of giving back to society? It's better than donating money and not knowing where it ends up, only to enrich others."

Donate money to charity?

Song Zhaowen must have been kicked in the head by a donkey to do that.

All charitable organizations worldwide are essentially businesses; if even one-tenth of the donations reach the true victims, we're already grateful.

It would be more practical to open more factories and hire more workers.

"One last question," Huang Jieyi glanced at the time, knowing her chance was running out, "There have been many rumors lately about your relationship with Ms. Huang Lei of the Huangtian Group. They say you two are getting very close. Is it a romantic relationship, or just a purely business collaboration?"

Song Zhaowen looked directly into Huang Jieyi's eyes, then suddenly smiled, a smile with a hint of mischievousness that only men understand: "Reporter Huang, you're such a beautiful woman, you should understand, some things are meaningless if you say them too bluntly~"

"But there's one thing I can tell you, Ms. Huang: I have no plans to get married yet. Theoretically speaking, you, Ms. Huang, also have a chance."

"Um?"

Huang Jieyi was caught off guard by his sudden directness. Two red clouds instantly appeared on her cheeks, and her heart skipped a beat for no reason. If someone else had said those words, she would have already given him a cold rebuke or walked away. But this man in front of her—his unique temperament, which was a mixture of wildness and the control of a superior, made her unable to dislike him. In fact, she even felt a little flustered and aroused.

She quickly composed herself, coughed lightly, and forced a calm smile, saying, "Mr. Song, you really know how to joke—thank you for taking the time to do this interview. I hope we'll have the chance to chat again sometime."

After saying that, she gestured for the cameraman to leave almost hastily, and as she turned to merge into the crowd, she could still feel the smiling gaze behind her, which made her ears burn.

Song Zhaowen watched her slightly hurried departure and a smile crept onto his lips. This beautiful reporter from Taiwan is quite interesting.

However, the cameraman from this TV station was very tactful; before leaving, he secretly slipped Song Zhaowen a note with Huang Jieyi's hotel address and pager number.

Of course, Song Zhaowen wasn't stingy either; he had one of his men tear up a check and give it to the shrewd young man in front of him.

"Boss, the red envelopes are all gone, and everyone's saying that Mr. Song knows how to behave." Tony leaned over and whispered his report.

"Hmm." Song Zhaowen withdrew his gaze, straightened his clothes, and walked towards Ye Rongtian and his group who were waiting not far away.

Beside Ye Rongtian, besides his slick-haired, frivolous-looking cousin Ye Yongchang, who was clearly a spoiled rich kid who had been corrupted by wine, women, and money, stood Senior Sergeant Deng Weitao, whose face was filled with embarrassment.

Ye Yongchang had seen many talented young men in the city before, but upon seeing Song Zhaowen for the first time, he felt inferior and dared not feel jealous.

"Brother Wen, this is my second cousin, Ye Yongchang. He's currently in charge of the daily operations of Hengsheng Bank," Ye Rongtian introduced, then turned to Ye Yongchang: "Brother Chang, this is Mr. Song."

"Oh my, Mr. Song, I've heard so much about you, your name is legendary!" Ye Yongchang immediately put on his warmest smile, rushed forward, and firmly grasped Song Zhaowen's hands, shaking them vigorously. "I watched the entire God of Gamblers competition last night. Mr. Song, your last move was simply divine skill and incredible courage. I admire you! From now on, Hengsheng Bank will have to rely entirely on your guidance, Mr. Song!"

Song Zhaowen wore a polite smile, letting the other man shake his hand. He felt the other man's palm was cold and sticky, and the strength was weak. He thought to himself: A typical spoiled brat, living off his father's wealth, empty inside, and incapable of achieving anything great.

"Mr. Ye, you're too kind. Hengsheng is a long-established Chinese-owned bank in Hong Kong with an excellent reputation. I felt comfortable depositing the money there." Song Zhaowen subtly withdrew his hand, his gaze already shifting to Deng Weitao, who was standing next to him, almost frozen in place.

"Who is this? They look so familiar!"

Deng Weitao felt worse than if he had swallowed ten flies.

Song Zhaowen was definitely pretending not to know him on purpose!

Just a week ago, he personally led a team to block the entrance of Song Zhaowen's villa in Jiutoutang, citing Song Zhaowen's alleged illegal organization of a large-scale armed conflict.

Don't we recognize each other today?

Speaking of which, not only did he suffer a great loss in the last operation, but even his superior Richard suffered a huge setback, and for a time he was ridiculed as a reckless man in the police system.

What's even more awkward is...

What goes around comes around. Who would have thought that today he would stand before this underworld boss, whom he once considered a potential target, as his "protector," and be responsible for escorting the prize money the boss had just won from the gambling table?

A staggering sum of 100 million—it's an absolute irony!

Looking at Song Zhaowen's ambiguous, scrutinizing gaze, Deng Weitao felt his face burning with embarrassment.

But the mission is paramount.

Ye Yongchang, oblivious to Deng Weitao's embarrassment, introduced him, "Mr. Song, this is quite remarkable. He's Senior Sergeant Deng Weitao, the captain of the elite PYU squad in West Kowloon. He's in charge of tomorrow's escort mission. I went to great lengths to get him on my side. Tomorrow will be absolutely foolproof. Mr. Song, does Inspector Deng look familiar? Do you know him before?"

Song Zhaowen then feigned a look of sudden realization, but the mockery in his eyes was impossible to hide.

"Oh, Officer Tang! I remember now!" he drawled, his tone exaggerated. "I was wondering why you looked so familiar. It turns out you're Officer Tang from that small house in Kowloon Tong who led the team that visited me last time! Oh dear, look at my memory, you're such a busy person, I almost didn't recognize you."

Deng Weitao's facial muscles twitched violently, forcing out a smile that looked more like a grimace. He steeled himself and extended his hand: "Mr. Song, regardless of our past grievances, the West Kowloon Police will do everything in our power to ensure the safety of tomorrow's escort mission."

This time, Song Zhaowen did give him face and extended his hand, but he used considerable force when he grasped Deng Weitao's hand.

"Deng Sir, I didn't take what you said about last time to heart at all. What's past is past. I, Song Zhaowen, am not a petty person."

"

Despite saying that, he increased the pressure on his hand, making Deng Weitao's knuckles ache.