Chapter Nineteen: Hao Zhaotang of Hao's Bank

The daily routine at Stanley Prison remained unchanged, essentially confined to the rigid three-point-one line: work, end work, eat, wash up, sleep. Monotonous and uneventful.

Occasionally, conflicts would flare up between certain cellmates or gang affiliates—in the bathhouse, the restroom, or some shadowy corner. The faint sounds of whispered quarrels, curses, or even fights were always audible.

However, for the cell where Song Ren was held, things had quieted considerably for various reasons.

A new inmate had joined the cell—a lackey from one of the gangs. Without any backing, he was naturally ordered around by the henchmen of Meng Gui. Ah Hu would occasionally join in, bullying the newcomer to while away the dull hours of imprisonment.

In stark contrast, Chen Jiale, who lacked any connections in Stanley and was the most vulnerable, had not been targeted by others. This timid, timid-looking man was actually quite perceptive. Early on, he clearly understood the situation he was facing and spent his days catering to Song Ren in various ways—serving tea, passing meals, folding bedding.

He behaved like a loyal servant from ancient times, to the point that Song Ren felt somewhat embarrassed. He had reminded Chen Jiale several times, “Ah Le, you don’t need to abase yourself so much.”

But Jiale accepted it willingly. His timid demeanor was merely a protective facade. He was sharp and self-aware. In Stanley Prison, with his refined appearance, the only way to avoid being bullied was to cling to a powerful figure.

And Song Ren was currently the most feared inmate in the entire prison.

Sharing the same cell, Jiale sensed Song Ren’s reserved nature after some interaction. So he early on assumed the role of Song Ren’s loyal foot soldier, keeping a very low profile to maintain that image. Yet, this posture was not just for Song Ren—it was mainly to deter others from causing him trouble.

The only regret was that Brother Ren’s sentence was too short. Though somewhat unseemly to think so, Jiale wished Brother Ren had a life sentence like himself.

He knew Brother Ren understood him, for he had never spoken ill nor treated him harshly like the others. Grateful for this silent protection, Jiale naturally dedicated himself as Song Ren’s devoted aide.

At noon in the prison canteen, Jiale returned with the meal and placed a portion before Song Ren, then asked proactively, “Brother Ren, what are you thinking about? You seem quite lost in thought.”

“Nothing,” Song Ren smiled faintly, saying no more.

Almost a month had passed. Song Ren was contemplating how to handle Ah Ji from the Loyalty and Righteousness Society—he couldn’t let Ah Ji leave first. But recently, the Loyalty and Righteousness gang had been more restrained.

The assassin Ah Ji, perhaps mindful of his nearing release, hadn’t troubled Song Ren, leaving him without cause to retaliate.

There was a stark difference in consequences between provoking trouble proactively and being provoked.

Song Ren had thought Ah Ji wouldn’t be able to hold back, but as his release drew near, nothing happened. He felt somewhat disappointed.

“Ah Ren.”

“Brother Ren.”

“Brother Ren.”

Meng Gui sat opposite with two lackeys. After greetings, he leaned in and whispered, “Ah Ren, tell Ah Le to be careful lately. Someone in the prison has spread word there’s a bounty on him—seems like someone’s out to get him.”

Jiale caught wind of this and froze for a moment, then forced a smile. “Don’t joke, Ghost Brother. In Stanley, I only know a few of you.”

Qiu Gang’ao came back with his meal and sat beside Song Ren. “Brother Ren, what’s up?”

Song Ren nodded, then turned to ask Jiale, “Have you offended anyone?”

Jiale’s face darkened. After a moment’s thought, he shook his head.

“No, I’ve been right behind you, Brother Ren, careful in everything. No one has bullied me, and I never provoke others.”

Song Ren bit into a steamed bun. “Hmm, then maybe the trouble followed you from outside, and it’s catching up here.”

Jiale’s face paled further.

Qiu Gang’ao seemed to understand and asked, “Jiale, who did you offend outside? Even with a life sentence, they still won’t let you be?”

Jiale’s expression flickered between gloom and resolve. After a long pause, he clenched his teeth and said one name: “Huo Zhaotang.”

A sudden hush fell.

Qiu Gang’ao straightened abruptly, revealing for the first time a rare flare of agitation before Song Ren. His eyes were icy and intense. “Who?”

Jiale blinked in surprise—was he asking who I offended? Not who offended you? Why such a strong reaction?

Still, he answered truthfully, “The chairman of Huo’s Bank, Huo Zhaotang.”

Song Ren noticed Qiu Gang’ao’s unusually fierce response. His knuckles whitened as he clenched his fists, eyes burning with rage.

Recalling the story of the Angry Fire Major Crimes Unit, the reason dawned on him.

Qiu Gang’ao was an elite of the former Major Crimes Unit. The incident that triggered accusations of torture and accidental manslaughter was the kidnapping of Huo Zhaotang.

Because of Huo Zhaotang’s immense wealth and social standing, the case attracted enormous attention.

The entire team was pressured by superiors, even tacitly encouraged to use any means necessary.

Consequently, Qiu Gang’ao’s elite squad subjected one suspect, Kele, accused of kidnapping Huo, to brutal interrogation.

In the end, they accidentally killed Kele.

This outcome was a serious problem.

However, they had extracted crucial information from Kele in the shortest time, enabling another police team to rescue Huo Zhaotang successfully.

But afterward, Kele’s associates sued all the officers involved.

With the matter exposed and its nature severe, the supervisors who had promised to take responsibility denied everything, breaking their promises utterly.

Even Huo Zhaotang himself delivered biting remarks in court.

This wealthy magnate’s harsh, ungrateful behavior dealt the Major Crimes Unit’s elite a crushing blow.

Given Huo’s vast influence, had he shown support, Qiu Gang’ao and his team might not have fallen into such disgrace.

Hence, Qiu Gang’ao’s visceral reaction to the name.

Over the years in Stanley Prison, except for a more peaceful existence since Song Ren’s arrival, Qiu Gang’ao had endured torment so severe in the early days that life felt worse than death.

This had only deepened and suppressed the hatred in his heart.

He longed for revenge—a fierce, unrelenting reckoning.