The acquisition of Rediffusion Television wasn't something Lin Baicheng needed to rush. He had already asked Standard Chartered to continue negotiating with Rediffusion in the UK—if they could lower the price, great. If not, then he would simply buy it later. A few days wouldn't change much.
With his schedule temporarily freed up, Lin decided to focus on something equally important—building his own private team.
He wanted a dedicated group of professionals to handle all his affairs: acquisitions like Rediffusion TV, investments in Microsoft and Apple, the purchase of Japanese comic companies, and other ventures to come. Lin would only need to set the direction; his team would handle the execution.
After all, as his business empire expanded, it would be impossible for him to manage everything personally. Even the most energetic man couldn't be everywhere at once.
And because his ambitions extended far beyond Hong Kong, Lin didn't plan to hire only locals. He wanted talent from the U.S., Japan, and other regions as well—people who could help him navigate international markets and corporate systems.
This time, Lin wanted true talent—not necessarily people with long resumes, but those with strong academic backgrounds, intelligence, and drive. He directly hired a headhunting firm to find the right candidates and would personally make the final selections.
Then, one afternoon, something unexpected arrived.
A formal invitation—embossed with the colonial seal of the Hong Kong Government.
It was for a charity gala, organized by the government itself, with the theme of raising donations for orphans and the elderly. The event would be held on Saturday evening, November 26th, and the invitation stated that Mr. Lin Baicheng could bring one female companion.
Lin chuckled softly as he read it.
"Looks like I'm officially a man of status now."
After all, a charity event hosted by the colonial government wasn't open to just anyone. Only those with social standing or significant influence would ever receive such an invitation.
Publicly, Lin was known merely as a popular new novelist, the author of "Fengyun: The Storm Rises." But a select few in the business world knew he was far more than that—a rising entrepreneur behind the rapidly growing Galaxy Games Company.
Those who dealt with his company—land purchases, factory construction, shipping contracts, and component procurement—had seen the scale of his operations. The cash flow, the bank transactions… none of it looked like the work of a simple author.
Of course, no one would publicize such things without reason, so only a small circle of insiders knew that Lin Baicheng had transformed from a novelist into a genuine tycoon.
As for the colonial government—they knew everything. Land deals, export licenses, manufacturing approvals—there was no way they wouldn't.
Naturally, Lin couldn't refuse such an invitation. Unless he was deathly ill or abroad, declining would be an insult. In Hong Kong's business world, keeping good relations with the government was essential.
"Now that I think of it," Lin murmured, "I don't even have a date for the evening… Maybe I'll ask my sister or little sister to come along."
He smiled wryly. Being single had its downsides.
Then, as he thought about the entertainment industry, memories from his previous life surfaced. Back when he was writing Hong Kong entertainment novels, he'd researched all the famous actresses from this era—each one breathtakingly beautiful.
Before, those names were just distant dreams. But soon, once he acquired a TV station and stepped into the entertainment world… it would be a completely different story.
The thought made Lin's blood stir. He could almost feel the thrill of the coming era.
Money. Power. Beauty.
These were the desires of most men—perhaps of all men. Exceptions were rare.
Lin already had money, and his wealth would only grow.
He didn't pursue political power, but when his companies employed tens of thousands of people, that too would be a form of power—the kind that shaped livelihoods and economies.
And as for beauty… well, Lin was still a normal man. A rich, young, and ambitious man. Maybe when he was older and jaded, he'd be indifferent. But right now, the fire was alive and strong.
Before the charity gala, Lin did his homework. He consulted acquaintances about proper etiquette and procedure for such events.
In his previous life, he'd been just an ordinary man—he'd never once attended a high-society gala. Now that he was about to, it wouldn't hurt to avoid embarrassing himself.
A few days passed quickly.
On the evening of November 26th, Lin arrived at the Peninsula Hotel, the venue of the charity gala, accompanied by his bodyguards.
But as expected, he couldn't bring them inside. Security was tight, and guests entered alone.
His sisters, Lin Shufang and Lin Qin, had both declined to come. When they heard it was a government-hosted charity event filled with Hong Kong's elite, they got cold feet—afraid they'd embarrass themselves.
Lin couldn't blame them. It had only been half a year since the Lin family rose from ordinary folk to newfound wealth. Their mindset hadn't caught up yet. In time, they'd adapt.
Naturally, the event was swarming with reporters.
But journalists in this era were still relatively respectful. The aggressive paparazzi culture hadn't taken over yet. Since tonight's attendees were all elite figures, no one dared behave rudely.
Those willing to stop for interviews did so; those who walked straight into the hotel were left alone.
"Hey, isn't that Lin Baicheng, the author of 'Fengyun: The Storm Rises'?"
"Why's he here?"
"You think he got invited to this gala?"
The reporters recognized him instantly.
They were surprised—a young novelist appearing at a government charity event? That didn't make sense.
Yes, "Fengyun: The Storm Rises" was wildly popular, and Lin wasn't just any newcomer. But he wasn't Louis Cha (Jin Yong) either. Even veteran authors like Ni Kuang hadn't been invited tonight.
So what made Lin special?
Ignoring the murmurs, Lin kept walking, his expression calm, and entered the glittering, gold-lit hall of the Peninsula Hotel.
Inside, the air was filled with soft classical music, the clinking of glasses, and polite laughter. Everywhere he looked were familiar faces—people he had only seen before on television or in newspapers.
He smiled quietly to himself.
This was the true upper circle of Hong Kong.
And tonight… he had just stepped into it.