270-271

Chapter 270: Next Stop, Hong Kong

"The essence of marketing is simply about finding ways to give your business a better chance of winning."

"That’s reality. Reality works this way."

"Everyone carries a set of dice in their pockets. When it’s time to make a decision, they take them out and roll. Among those dice, there’s one called the Amusement Park die."

"To estimate how many people might visit Universal Studios, you need to ask how many people pull out this die in a year. How often do they roll it? Then you calculate the likelihood of each amusement park appearing on their roll. That’ll give you an idea of how many people might visit."

"Choosing the right battlefield is far more important than figuring out how to fight."

"Don’t fight battles you can’t win. Find a battlefield where the odds are in your favor—that’s my key to success."

"Previously, when Universal Studios tried selling their concept, they only focused on attracting movie buffs. That’s like shackling yourself! If movies are your main axis, you’re confining yourself to a tiny corner."

"Disneyland doesn’t center itself around its movies or animations. They diversify. If it makes money, they’ll launch the project."

"Universal Studios should expand their offerings to include animations and novels. They should also adapt to local preferences. Since they’re in Japan, why not incorporate manga and anime collaborations?"

"They could even create something like Universal Wonderland aimed at young children to attract families. With this, annual attendance could reach nine million visitors."

---

After dinner, Milo lounged comfortably in a loose yukata.

Lying lazily on his side on the tatami near the wooden terrace, he enjoyed the warm and soothing atmosphere of the hot springs. A gentle mountain breeze stirred the sandalwood incense burning in a small, golden censer placed on the low table, wafting its aroma throughout the room.

"Boss, tea—"

Beside him stood Sherry Liu, dressed in a simple kimono, her demeanor as gentle and meticulous as a traditional Japanese hostess.

She offered a small cup of tea to Milo, who drank it in one go, letting out an involuntary exclamation. "That Matsumoto Akira is truly a genius!"

He set the documents in his hand aside and sat up, leaning on his arm. His gaze drifted through the massive sliding glass door, taking in the serene natural beauty outside.

The lush greenery was accompanied by the tranquil sound of suikinkutsu—a traditional Japanese garden ornament. Its soft, mysterious tones amplified the quietness of the setting, evoking a sense of otherworldly peace and transcendent beauty.

"There’s no shortage of talent in this world. As we say in China, ‘A thousand-mile horse is common, but a true judge of talent is rare.’ Only someone like you, a true connoisseur, can recognize and make use of great talent. Without you, these individuals might fade into obscurity," Sherry Liu said, her tone growing more confident.

Having spent so much time with Milo, her courage had grown. She knew that despite his stern exterior, he was quite approachable in private. Familiarity had bred confidence, and her conversations had become increasingly bold.

Moreover, being by Milo’s side had broadened her perspective. She was exposed to elite individuals she once thought were far out of reach. Yet, in front of Milo, even these high-profile figures seemed as meek as lambs. This often gave her a sly sense of satisfaction, as though she herself held some of their power.

Milo chuckled as he observed her. "You’re something else."

His thoughts wandered briefly as he regarded her maturing beauty. Shaking his head with a smile, he asked, "Do you know the most important task of a business leader?"

Without hesitation, she shook her head. If she knew, would she have ended up as a nanny or personal assistant?

"Alright, I shouldn’t have asked you that." Milo laughed, then spoke in a lighthearted tone.

"A successful entrepreneur must assemble a team that’s always ready, capable of fighting, winning, staying humble in victory, and continuously growing. That’s the core mission and duty of a leader."

"Talent is crucial. You can’t expect the boss to fight every battle themselves."

"This Matsumoto Akira is a creative genius and a marketing expert. In such a short time, he not only identified the problems but also devised solutions and outlined a roadmap for the future. I never expected such brilliance!"

Seeing Sherry Liu’s puzzled expression, Milo smiled and shook his head. "Why am I even explaining this to you? It’s not like you’re going to become one of my generals."

He couldn’t help but think back to her previous life as her daughter’s manager. She had been disastrously ineffective, making poor decisions that nearly derailed her daughter’s career. If not for her daughter’s sheer resilience and good fortune, her ineptitude might have erased her from the entertainment industry within a couple of years.

Frankly, Milo’s interest in Sherry Liu was purely physical.

---

*Knock, knock.*

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

Both Milo and Sherry Liu turned their gaze toward the sliding door, which slowly opened.

Entering the room were Tokiwa Takako and a few others, their faces glowing with rosy smiles. Dressed in different colored yukata, they exuded charm and warmth.

Milo smiled. Now, this is what I call post-dinner entertainment.

Sherry Liu bit her lip in frustration. She knew Milo was about to indulge in yet another round of debauchery.

Taking a deep breath, she retreated silently. Following her New York training, she kept her head low and her movements subtle. When no one was paying attention, she closed the door behind her.

Milo glanced briefly at the door. Next time in New York, when her daughter is around… it might be time to open that particular gift.

I’m such a damn pervert.

Grinning, he tore off Tokiwa Takako’s yukata with a swift motion, pulling the actress—currently Japan’s hottest TV star—into his arms amidst her playful cries.

Dinner entertainment began in earnest.

---

Despite his enjoyment of Japan’s unique charms, Milo couldn’t linger for long.

By the following afternoon, he had left Osaka for Tokyo. That evening, Yahoo’s IPO roadshow party was held as scheduled.

Representatives from Japan’s six major financial groups—Mitsubishi, Mitsui, Sumitomo, Fuji, Dai-Ichi Kangyo, and Sanwa—all attended.

A small incident occurred during the event when a Korean-Japanese man named Masayoshi Son "accidentally" fell near Milo. Not once, but three times, creating a bit of a scene.

But it was precisely because of his clownish antics that Milo noticed him.

After asking for the man's name and learning he was Masayoshi Son, Milo even arranged a meeting with him.

This allowed Milo to confirm that this Masayoshi Son was indeed the same Masayoshi Son—the one who would go on to establish the SoftBank Group and almost become the father of China's early internet venture capital scene.

The very same Son who would later become Asia’s most renowned internet investor.

At the moment, however, Masayoshi Son hadn’t yet gained that level of fame.

Given his background and status, his position in Japan was rather awkward.

The fact that he was able to attend this event tonight was largely because he was the businessman in all of Japan most closely connected to the internet.

Other conglomerates, unfamiliar with the internet, had invited Son to act as a consultant.

But this guy was cunning—or perhaps shameless.

He deliberately fell over in places where Milo could see him a few times, successfully drawing Milo’s attention and getting the chance to show his face in front of the so-called "godfather of the global internet."

To Milo, it might have been nothing more than an amusing spectacle.

It revealed how, before becoming famous and achieving success, Masayoshi Son was willing to go to any lengths to get ahead.

But to Son, even a few words exchanged with Milo could significantly boost his presence in Japan.

It would make the conglomerates think twice before dismissing him outright.

You could say that everyone has their own survival strategy.

For Masayoshi Son, if he were to go to China at this point, he would be celebrated by the entire internet industry.

But in Japan, he was just a marginal figure, relying on making a fool of himself to attract Milo’s attention and increase his visibility.

The world is, indeed, full of stark contrasts.

After completing the Tokyo IPO roadshow, Milo left Tokyo almost immediately that same evening, heading to Hong Kong.

According to the itinerary arranged by the Blackburn Foundation, the next stop after Tokyo was supposed to be Singapore.

But Milo had them change the plan, moving the IPO reception originally scheduled for Singapore to Hong Kong, the so-called global hub of espionage.

Why? Simply because, in his previous life before his reincarnation, Milo had never had the chance to visit Hong Kong.

Now that he had the opportunity, he wanted to see it from the perspective of a foreigner passing through.

After all, he had already been to Beijing.

He had also met China’s top business moguls.

So, adding a stop in Hong Kong didn’t seem like a big deal.

Besides, the grandfather of his future wife, old David, had visited Hong Kong over twenty years ago.

At that time, the scene was grand, with the colonial government treating his visit almost like that of a foreign head of state.

To be fair, given the Rockefellers’ status in America, that level of pomp wasn’t undeserved.

The flight from Tokyo to Hong Kong took only four and a half hours.

The two locations were almost in the same time zone, so there wasn’t much jet lag.

Milo departed Tokyo at 10 p.m. and arrived at Hong Kong’s Kai Tak International Airport around 3 a.m.

At this time, Hong Kong’s Chek Lap Kok Airport hadn’t been built yet.

Sitting in his massive Boeing 747, Milo got to experience the thrill of flying between buildings as the plane landed.

To be honest, the residents who bought homes near Kai Tak Airport had to be incredibly tolerant.

With so many planes taking off and landing every day, the noise was unbearable. Living there couldn’t have been easy.

But it would get better starting next year.

With Chek Lap Kok Airport opening, Kai Tak Airport would retire, and the noise problem would finally be resolved.

A convoy of ten black SUVs drove into the private tarmac at Kai Tak Airport.

Milo stepped off the plane’s staircase, his trench coat billowing in the chilly wind.

Just as he stepped down, before he could get into the car, Kenny approached him and whispered in his ear, “Boss, someone local wants to meet you.”

Milo was momentarily surprised but quickly understood.

“This isn’t on my schedule, is it?” Milo asked.

According to his itinerary, he was supposed to go to a hotel or the U.S. consulate after arriving.

The U.S. Consulate here was well-located, spacious, and important.

The next day, or rather later that same day, he would hold the IPO roadshow.

Afterward, he’d have three or four days of free time, during which he could either tour Hong Kong or head straight to his next destination in the desert region.

His schedule didn’t include any meetings with local officials.

“No, it’s not,” Kenny confirmed. “They must have found out about your plane’s arrival and wanted to meet you.”

Milo shrugged. “Fine. Let’s meet them.”

It wasn’t like he could just hop back on the plane and leave.

In the cleared-out VIP lounge at Kai Tak Airport, Milo met a group of local elites.

Among them, he immediately recognized tycoons like Lee “Cucumber” (Li Ka-Shing), Lee Shau-Kee, Mr. Ho, and veterans like Cheng and Kwok.

But it didn’t matter.

The meeting consisted mostly of handshakes and polite conversation.

Most of these people spoke excellent English, though many had noticeable British accents, which Milo found a bit unusual.

Some even invited him to visit their homes.

Milo politely declined, saying, “I’m a bit tired and would like to rest.”

With that, he avoided all further engagements and left the airport.

The convoy was initially heading to the Four Seasons Hotel in Hong Kong, where they had booked three entire floors.

But Milo decided instead to stay at the consulate.

With his orders, the convoy turned and drove toward 26 Garden Road.

Consul General Richard A. Boucher had no choice but to get up in the middle of the night, clearly having been dragged out of bed to greet Milo and his entourage at the door.

Even the U.S. ambassadors in Tokyo, London, and even China were eager to curry favor when Milo came knocking.

So, it goes without saying that this was merely a consulate.

Fortunately, they had already prepared contingency plans for Milo's visit.

This way, even with Milo's last-minute change of plans, things wouldn't be too chaotic.

The key was that the room was spacious enough to accommodate Milo's entourage of nearly sixty or seventy people.

It was very late; by the time Milo arrived, it was already past four in the morning.

Once the accommodations were arranged, everyone naturally went to rest.

Anything that needed to be discussed would have to wait until tomorrow.

At this moment, atop Victoria Peak in the dead of night, all was silent.

Moonlight poured down like water, gently illuminating the winding mountain roads, draping this serene haven in the bustling city with a silvery veil.

In the distance, Victoria Harbor flickered faintly in the night, its shimmering waters reflecting the dazzling city lights, creating a breathtaking scene like a living painting.

Everything seemed quiet; only the occasional sound of the night wind and the rustling leaves hinted at an indescribable sense of peace and tranquility.

But was it truly this calm?

For the city's elites, anyone who had just been to Kai Tak Airport tonight...

Their night would be anything but peaceful.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 271: Social Elite Gather in Hong Kong

The next day, Hong Kong bustled with its usual vibrancy and tranquility.

Ordinary citizens went about their daily routines—working and commuting as usual.

The middle class continued striving for upward mobility, seeking a better life.

Even the wealthiest individuals kept pushing themselves, hoping to climb higher.

Only the richest elites and their families knew who had arrived in Hong Kong the previous night.

At this moment, everyone craned their necks, their eyes fixed eagerly toward Garden Road,

hoping for news from the U.S. consulate.

Unfortunately, by noon of the second day, there was still no news—just calm silence.

“Maybe they’re just recovering from jet lag,” someone speculated.

In the opulent mansion of the Tsang family in Repulse Bay,

Tsang Sin-Chi spoke quietly to Ho Yin-Tung, who sat across from him.

Repulse Bay, located in the Southern District of Hong Kong Island,

is one of the most prestigious residential areas.

Hong Kong's elite favored either mountain retreats or beachfront villas.

Consequently, residential areas were concentrated in these locations.

The city's prominent bays housed clusters of luxurious villas,

with Repulse Bay boasting the most history among them.

Every notable family—the Lis, the Paks, the Tsangs, and the Hos—owned villas here.

Energetic despite his short stature, Ho Yin-Tung replied softly,

“He flew in from Japan. There’s no jet lag between us and them.”

Tsang Sin-Chi nodded in agreement.

“But it’s already noon. Why hasn’t the American side made any moves?” Tsang questioned.

“Could it really be that they’re just here to host a stock launch cocktail party without any ulterior motive?”

“That’s hard to say,” interrupted another elder, Chong Si-Ping.

“Americans coming to Hong Kong without stirring the pot? Do you think that’s normal?”

This remark silenced both Tsang Sin-Chi and Ho Yin-Tung.

Upon reflection, they realized that whenever a major U.S. figure visited Hong Kong,

the city never remained tranquil for long.

From the Rockefellers and aircraft carrier visits to American presidents passing through,

every occasion left the local representatives of northern interests scrambling to clean up the aftermath.

Given the pattern, none of the gathered elders wished for Milo Blackburn to visit Hong Kong.

The anxiety was palpable.

“Speaking of which,” began Ho Yin-Tung, who was both the shortest and the leader among them,

“That internet company he’s involved with—Yahoo, is it?—is it really worth so much?

I read in the papers that once it goes public, its market cap could reach 200 billion.

“That’s U.S. dollars! Converted to Hong Kong dollars, that’s over one trillion!

“Even if you were printing money in a gold mine, this still sounds absurd!”

“I’ve read the same news,” Tsang Sin-Chi added.

“They’re calling it high-tech, claiming it will turn the world into a global village,

where everyone can connect using this platform.

“Back home, they’re working on similar technology,

but they’re at least ten years behind.”

Chong Si-Ping chimed in skeptically,

“I don’t trust the Americans that much.

“If this Yahoo company were truly so significant,

would they be promoting it worldwide?

“Even having the richest man personally pitching it?

“Something doesn’t add up!”

“Ah…” Ho Yin-Tung sighed deeply.

“It’s a shame Pak isn’t with us anymore.

“He knew the Westerners better than anyone.

Even the U.S. president had taken photos with him.

“If he were still here, he might have figured out what the Americans are really up to.”

At this, the room fell silent again.

---

“Grandpa, uncles!”

Suddenly, Ho Yin-Tung’s grandson, Ho Kong-Tze,

burst into the sunroom where the elders were gathered.

After greeting each elder, he announced,

“Dad sent me to deliver a message:

“The Americans are making moves!”

Ho Kong-Tze’s words instantly pulled the group out of their somber reminiscing.

“Oh? Kong-Tze, tell us—what are they up to?” Tsang Sin-Chi asked eagerly.

Seeing the elders’ intense gazes, Ho Kong-Tze swallowed nervously.

“Well, Dad wanted me to tell you all that the Americans have announced plans for tonight.

“They’re hosting a grand party here in Repulse Bay.”

Slap!  

Chong Si-Ping slapped his thigh.

“See? I told you they weren’t here for anything good!

Arriving late last night, and now they can’t wait to stir things up!”

Hong Kong, influenced by London, had embraced a culture of cocktail parties and gatherings.

Local elites and socialites loved competing at these events,

vying for the title of “ball king” or “ball queen”—

the most dazzling, prominent figure at the party.

Familiar with this culture, the Hong Kong tycoons also understood

that most Western business dealings took place at such events.

“There’s nothing to fear.

We’ll all attend, ready for whatever comes our way,”

Tsang Sin-Chi said confidently.

Ho Yin-Tung nodded in agreement,

but noticing his grandson’s hesitation, he asked,

“Kong-Tze, is there something you haven’t finished saying?”

Caught off guard, Ho Kong-Tze smiled awkwardly.

He had indeed held back some details,

but the elders’ impatience had left him uncertain whether to speak.

Since his grandfather had prompted him,

he mustered the courage to continue:

“Yes, there’s more—about the nature of the party tonight.”

“What else could it be?” Tsang asked dismissively.

“Well…” Ho Kong-Tze blurted out quickly before anyone could interrupt:

“Dad’s message says that tonight’s party is focused on inviting

Hong Kong’s prominent figures from the film and entertainment industry.

“The reason, apparently, is because the event is organized by Milo Blackburn himself.

“And Mr. Blackburn’s most prominent identity in the U.S.

is that of a media tycoon and Hollywood giant.

“He’s said to be very intrigued by Hong Kong’s nickname,

‘The Hollywood of the East,’ and wants to learn more about it.”

“That’s it.”

 "This is all my father asked me to relay. Nothing more."

The elders were silent for a few seconds.

Zhuang Siping remarked, “Everyone, I truly don’t get it. Such a wealthy tycoon comes to Hong Kong, and the first people he meets are entertainers?”

“What’s his motive?” Zeng Xianzi chimed in.

“Hmph...”

Huo Yidong exhaled and said, “Same thing as always—when soldiers arrive, we counter with generals; when water comes, we block it with earth. In any case, we’ll also attend tonight!”

The others nodded in agreement.

It was obvious that the thoughts of these elders mirrored those of many others in Hong Kong.

And “many others” was an understatement.

---

Time flew by quickly.

The Earth's rotation caused the sun to vanish in the west. Night fell, and the city's lights began to glow.

The vibrant Hong Kong night came alive.

Beneath the dark sky, a sprawling villa in Repulse Bay, covering thousands of square feet, was brightly lit at its grand entrance.

Luxury cars came and went in a steady stream. Anyone familiar with license plates would be shocked to see that nearly all of Hong Kong’s most prominent tycoons were in attendance.

While these elites interacted occasionally, what kind of gathering could attract such a turnout of big names?

---

“I’m old now, far too old. The film company and TV station—I’ve handed them over to others.” A frail elderly man with thinning hair and large glasses sighed deeply.

“You shouldn’t say that, Mr. Shao. You’re far more spirited than any senior I’ve ever met your age. You’re a globally renowned philanthropist. Even San Francisco designated September 8th as ‘Run Run Shaw Day.’ Surely, God will continue to bless you. As the saying goes, ‘An old soldier’s ambitions burn as bright as ever.’ Retirement? Perhaps talk about it after a century.” A young white man, likely in his early twenties, laughed as he spoke beside him.

It was an odd scene.

The frail elderly man spoke in English, while the young white man replied in Mandarin—standard Mandarin, not Cantonese.

Strangely, the people nearby took it as perfectly normal.

“Exactly, Uncle Six! You’re far from retiring. TVB wouldn’t survive without you,” added another man in his thirties, sparking a chorus of agreement from the crowd.

The old man chuckled, thinking, I believe in Buddha. If anyone’s going to bless me, it’ll be the Buddha. Your God can keep blessing you.

But he was amazed by the world’s media tycoon and richest man’s fluency in Mandarin.

A few months earlier, during his trip up north, it was already reported that this man spoke fluent Chinese.

It wasn’t just true—it was extraordinarily fluent.

Run Run Shaw had initially doubted the reports from the north.

Glancing at several distant corners, he noticed many high-status tycoons in the city—each more prominent than him—were all watching this scene from afar with envy. Yet, none dared to approach.

“Haha! Who would’ve thought? After a lifetime in movies and television, I’ve made less money than a single strand of these tycoons’ wealth. Yet, in front of the world’s richest foreigner, I’m the one getting the most attention.”  

The thought delighted Shaw immensely.

Just seeing people like the Huo, Lee, Cheng, and Wu families—hesitating but not daring to approach—made him beam with pride.

---

“Thank you for your kind wishes, Mr. Blackburn. Your Chinese is impeccable. But Hong Kong is too small. You call us the ‘Hollywood of the East,’ yet we’re not even a tenth of the real Hollywood. True Hollywood is in America.”

Milo chuckled inwardly, This old man knows his limits.  

Could Hong Kong really become the "Hollywood of the East"?

That was an impossible dream.

Hong Kong’s film industry thrived in the ’70s and ’80s because of unique circumstances.

Back then, Hollywood was struggling under the shadow of the Soviet Union’s influence, with many elites embracing anti-American, left-leaning ideologies.

Moreover, the global shift of industries and Hong Kong’s and Southeast Asia’s economic growth provided a foundation for its golden age of cinema and entertainment.

But now?

The Soviet Union was gone.

The United States was unmatched worldwide. Even if Hong Kong’s film industry were a hundred times stronger, it couldn’t compete with Hollywood’s state-backed dominance.

Hong Kong cinema was experiencing its last moments of glory.

And the small-mindedness of Hong Kong’s people ensured they could never truly rival Hollywood.

If movies like Terminator 2 and Jurassic Park had already shaken Hong Kong’s film industry, the arrival of Titanic utterly crushed it.

Those grand, awe-inspiring spectacles could never be created without industrialized filmmaking.

Hong Kong was merely a free port, capable of holding its ground with genre films under technological constraints.

But once technology advanced to the point where imagination could seamlessly be translated to the silver screen, Hong Kong’s defeat was inevitable.

As for Mainland China, it was only just getting started, still intoxicated by European art-house influences.

Winning a few film festival awards made them smug, as if they had introduced their culture to the world.

But without capturing market share, such accomplishments were mere illusions.

No wonder the current Best Actor insisted on watching Titanic to learn from its marketing strategies.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much Milo could do now. Importing Hollywood films to the mainland was already the limit of his influence.

Though he had more tricks and plans up his sleeve, those would have to wait a few years.

Only after the mainland understood the true nature of commercial cinema and film markets would those plans come into play.

After all, this is no longer the era of Norman Bethune. If he were just an ordinary Chinese-American or simply a regular American director, it wouldn’t matter.

But his identity is uniquely special.

If he acts too strangely toward the mainland, both the mainland and the United States will scrutinize him closely.

Milo suddenly chuckled at himself—why bother worrying about those things?

As long as he does what he needs to and has a clear conscience, that’s enough.

Maybe it’s because he suddenly came face-to-face with the last batch of elite filmmakers from Hong Kong’s golden age of cinema at the end of 1997.

To be honest, from Milo’s perspective, the nostalgia evoked by the younger Four Heavenly Kings and those iconic Hong Kong beauties deeply moved him.

Even the feelings stirred by that old man, Sir Run Run Shaw, had more of an impact.

Any one of them could easily surpass the so-called Four Major Families of Hong Kong.

To put it bluntly, those old tycoons could only act like kings in their local domain.

On the international stage, all they had were the fortunes they made in Hong Kong to play the fool and occasionally worry about being seen as easy prey.

They hadn’t truly achieved anything remarkable.

No matter how wealthy they were, could they possibly surpass Milo Blackburn?

So, in Milo’s eyes, figures like the so-called "Superman" or the "Stock God" were far less intriguing than Stephen Chow, Andy Lau, or those elegant Hong Kong beauties.

Milo couldn’t help but feel a sense of regret.

It was a pity that it was already 1997.

The most dazzling and golden era of Hong Kong’s beauties was over—some had aged, some had married, and the next generation hadn’t yet arrived.

Even if he wanted to explore diversity and add some cherished elements of Chinese culture to his personal collection, it was no longer possible.

Well, not entirely impossible.

At least in the mainland, things were just starting. If he wanted to, he could still collect a few gems there.

But the lack of that distinct Hong Kong flair was, to some extent, a regret.

That’s why he spent the entire evening laughing and chatting with the last crop of Hong Kong cinema elites.

This left the old Four Families, the new Four Families, and the tycoons from the Huo and Tsang clans—as well as representatives from the Kadoorie and Keswick families, who had come specifically for the event—completely at a loss.

They couldn’t figure it out. How could the stars of Hong Kong cinema be so captivating to Milo Blackburn?

After all, these actors and actresses were always respectful and deferential in front of them.

Weren’t they—the true masters of the city—a hundred times more impressive than these performers?

If Milo were just talking to a few beautiful women, they could let it slide.

After all, his reputation as a notorious playboy preceded him.

But oddly enough, his interest in the beauties seemed lukewarm.

Instead, he seemed to enjoy chatting with the likes of "Big Nose Dragon" (Leung) and Stephen Chow.

It was utterly baffling.

Little did they know that this was yet another layer of nostalgia for Milo.

Originally, I had planned to write in more depth—there’s so much material to cover about Hong Kong. But after the last chapter was flagged for review for an entire day just for its introduction, I decided to keep it brief. Let’s skip over the details and move on.

(End of Chapter)