Elio’s Notes: Sorry guys been on a trip. I managed to translate while on the way though. Feel free to let me know in the comments if you find any errors or have any questions. Hope you enjoy this triple treat! (^^)
Who else are you planning to kill?” an aged voice spoke.
Xu Ying jerked his head up in shock. At some point, his lackeys had all been subdued, guns pressed to their heads. The Chief Elder of Xiaoqi Hall—Elder Yuan—stood there, leaning on the Dragon Head Staff, supported by Cui Dongdong, leading a group inside from the doorway.
The other elders of Xiaoqi Hall had also arrived—Elder Ge, Prince Duan, and Uncle Qiu. Among them, Elder Ge had personally accepted Xu Ying into the sect decades ago and later recommended him to Qinglong, even backing him for Vice Hall Master. He had always stood on Xu Ying’s side in faction matters. Yet now, he could only shake his head in bitter disappointment.
Xu Ying drew two heavy breaths, pressing the gun hard against Xia Liuyi’s head. Rage twisted into laughter. “You deliberately had that student brat lure me here—just so these people could watch the show?!”
Xia Liuyi lay face-down on the ground, letting out a low, rasping laugh. “Prestigious university student, gold-medal screenwriter, top-tier actor—my new lackey. Impressive enough for you, Boss Xu?”
He Chusan, standing among the onlookers, was speechless with anxiety—can you stop taking advantage of me right now? There’s still a gun at your head!
“Xu Ying, put down the gun. You might still be left an intact corpse,” Elder Yuan said coldly.
Xu Ying burst into laughter. “If you walk this path, you’re ready for this day! What the fuck use is an intact corpse?!”
“Xia Xiao Liu,” he snarled, leaning down close, “on the road to the Yellow Springs, you’ll be my damn stepping stone!”
His finger tightened on the trigger—but Xia Liuyi had already braced himself the moment he began speaking. With a sudden motion, he drove his elbow upward!
Two deafening gunshots rang out. The pistol flew away. Xu Ying was knocked flat, a bullet lodged in his abdomen. Xia Liuyi collapsed face-down, a gaping wound blown through his shoulder, blood gushing wildly.
He Chusan’s heart dropped. He instinctively rushed forward—but was casually shoved aside by Xiao Ma from behind, slamming him into the wall!
Xiao Ma, brazenly stealing the spotlight, led several lackeys forward, leaping past He Chusan to reach Xia Liuyi, pressing down to stanch his bleeding. Others rushed in, guns trained on Xu Ying, forcing him to his knees.
“Boss Liuyi! Boss Liuyi!” Xiao Ma cried out, nearly wailing—until Xia Liuyi slowly opened his eyes and frowned in annoyance at the noise. Only then did Xiao Ma finally breathe again.
Blocked outside the crowd, He Chusan stood on tiptoe but couldn’t see a thing. In frustration, he dragged over his bulky backpack, stood on it, and climbed onto a nearby scaffolding to look.
From above, he saw Xia Liuyi surrounded by his men. Nearby, several people held Xu Ying down while Elder Yuan approached him step by step, leaning on the Dragon Head Staff.
Elder Yuan removed the head of the staff, drawing out the concealed Dragon Head dagger, and tossed it beside Xu Ying’s knees.
“Xu Ying,” he said coldly, “you betrayed the sect and murdered your superior. By the rules—three cuts, six holes. But in consideration of your years of service, I’ll grant you the chance to end yourself. Do you have any last words?”
Clutching his bleeding abdomen, Xu Ying sneered at him. Elder Yuan’s expression did not change—cold and resolute.
Suddenly, Xu Ying burst into a strange, manic laughter. “Good! Good! Good!” he rasped. “What do I have to say? I gave my life to Qinglong—to all you old bastards—for decades! And in the end, everything went to this brat! What you wouldn’t give me—I took for myself! What did I do wrong?! Three cuts, six holes… I don’t accept it!”
He snatched up the Dragon Head dagger and sprang to his feet, slashing toward Elder Yuan!
Cui Dongdong reacted instantly—one swift kick knocked the dagger from his hand, another sent him crashing to the ground!
Before she could follow up, Xia Liuyi—his body drenched in blood—suddenly shoved Xiao Ma aside, seized the dagger, and roared as he lunged forward with thunderous force—
The blade plunged straight into Xu Ying’s heart, pinning him firmly to the ground!
Blood dripped from Xia Liuyi’s shoulder onto Xu Ying’s face. Xu Ying stared up at him, eyes bulging, face twisted in hatred. Their gazes clashed like blades in midair. With his last strength, Xu Ying clawed at Xia Liuyi’s throat.
Xia Liuyi gripped the blood-slick hilt—and twisted it viciously.
A grotesque gurgle escaped Xu Ying’s throat. His trembling hands left ten bloody marks across Xia Liuyi’s neck.
“Xia… Xiao… Liu…”
Struggling, Xu Ying leaned close to his ear, grinning savagely as he whispered something.
“……”
No one else heard it clearly.
But Xia Liuyi’s eyes suddenly widened. Just as he tried to pull back, Xu Ying jerked upward—driving the blade deeper into his own body!
Blood sprayed into the air like a crimson mist. The ambitious man stared wide-eyed—and finally went still.
Xia Liuyi stood there, stunned, before pulling the blade free.
He shook Xu Ying—but there was no response. Only more blood poured out with each movement. Bathed in scarlet, Xia Liuyi stared at the lifeless corpse. The hatred in his eyes spread layer by layer, deepening until it cut to the bone.
As if possessed, he raised the dagger and stabbed down again. Pulled it out. Stabbed again. Pulled it out. Again. And again—
Shhk! Shhk! Shhk! Shhk!
The wet sounds of blade entering flesh echoed repeatedly in the silent room. Bits of torn flesh and clotted blood splattered across the floor. From the scaffolding above, He Chusan turned pale and looked away, unable to watch any longer.
“He’s already dead. That’s enough,” Cui Dongdong said.
She grabbed Xia Liuyi’s tense arm and squeezed hard, urging him back to his senses. Slowly, expressionless, Xia Liuyi turned to look at her.
After a long moment, as though his soul had returned, he closed his eyes and let out a long breath.
The blood-soaked Dragon Head dagger slipped from his hand.
His strength gave out, and he collapsed against Cui Dongdong’s shoulder.
Xiao Ma hurriedly directed his men. Using a tabletop, they fashioned a crude stretcher and lifted Xia Liuyi onto it. Elder Yuan and the other elders stepped forward to check on him. Xia Liuyi’s face was pale, yet he smiled faintly—completely different from the savage fury just moments ago, now appearing weak and composed.
“Elders, many thanks for your timely rescue.”
“Xiao Liu, you’ve suffered. Rest for now,” Elder Yuan said, waving his hand for the lackeys to quickly take him to a private hospital.
Cui Dongdong followed the stretcher for a few steps, but when Xia Liuyi shook his head at her, she turned back and supported Elder Yuan. “Uncle Yuan, you’ve come a long way—you must be tired. Shall we send you back first?”
“No need, girl,” Elder Yuan patted her hand. “I know you’re filial. There’s no rush to leave—important matters come first. Old Ge, Old Qiu, Prince Duan—the election for the new Dragon Head shall be held in Liuyi’s hospital room. We’ll accompany him there.”
The group crowded out of the film company gates around the stretcher. A few lackeys remained behind, dragging Xu Ying’s corpse, stuffing it into a sack, and carrying it away.
Only He Chusan remained on the scaffolding—his presence so negligible that no one noticed him at all.
After a long while, he finally climbed down shakily. Bending over, he picked up his heavy backpack. Staring blankly at the fresh pools of blood on the ground, his mind was completely empty. All he could hear was a loud ringing in his ears.
That underworld boss Xu Ying had schemed, murdered, and seized power—only to end up dead without even an intact corpse. And Xia Liuyi, gravely wounded—just moments ago like a demon incarnate—was now carried out on the brink of death…
Will he really be alright?
Lost in a daze, weighed down by unease, he had nowhere to go. After standing alone in the empty studio for a while, he hugged his backpack tightly and staggered away.
…
In the early hours before dawn, he appeared at his own doorstep. Yellow ritual papers littered the alley, and the air reeked of cheap incense. Upstairs, Auntie Liu was surrounded by relatives, wailing and pounding the ground, kneeling and kowtowing toward the heavens, begging for the return of her son—who had died a gruesome death, disemboweled.
She had no idea what had happened on the rooftop. She only cursed through tears, “You damned triads—may you all die horrible deaths!”
No one noticed He Chusan, wrapped in a black jacket, standing there blankly for a moment before lowering his head and silently walking past.
Dentist He ushered his son into the clinic with a sigh, shutting the door and muttering quietly, “Her son wasn’t he in the triads too? Karma, really… tch, tch… Where the hell did you go all day yesterday?! Has that Xia Liuyi left yet?!”
Within just twenty-odd hours, He Chusan had learned the tangled love-hate histories of underworld bosses, been hunted down, jumped off buildings, carried a grown man across several streets, fled out of the city, sought out a crime boss lady, returned to act like an award-winning actor, and witnessed a bloody gang vendetta…
The sheer brutality and chaos of it all had shaken his young, innocent heart to its core.
His mind was still blank. Wordlessly, he set down his tightly clutched backpack and removed the black prop jacket he had stolen from the studio.
Dentist He sucked in a sharp breath—his son’s bare upper body was splattered with blood!
“Ah! Ah!” he cried out.
“Dad, I’m fine,” He Chusan said quietly. “The blood isn’t mine. Can you get me a basin of water? I want to wash up.”
After that wash, the university student collapsed into bed and was struck with a raging fever, drifting between life and death for three whole days. In his dreams, he felt as if a stick were stirring through his brain, trying to churn up all those grudges and entanglements—mixing them into chaos, packing them up, and casting them out of his mind.
His father went to the school for him, returned his borrowed books to the library, and requested leave on his behalf, claiming serious illness and applying for postponed exams.
…
While He Chusan tossed in feverish delirium on his damp, shabby bed, Xia Liuyi lay in a high-end private hospital room, wrapped properly like some kind of premium mummy—also trapped in a deep dream.
The anesthetic had not yet worn off. His mind was murky, as though he were walking through endless darkness. In his ears echoed Xu Ying’s twisted laughter before death—and those malicious words whispered at his ear:
“Xia Xiao Liu… you lowly bastard… I’ll make sure you never know… how Qinglong really died…”
—How Qinglong died? Wasn’t it you who killed him?! Who else could it be?! Bullshit!
His fist clenched suddenly. His throat spasmed as he jolted awake!
At his bedside, the elders were listening intently to a will, not noticing that he had awakened.
Elder Yuan had brought along a shrewd, thin lawyer, introduced as Qinglong’s personal attorney. Qinglong had instructed that if he died unexpectedly, the Dragon Head Staff should be retrieved and the will presented.
“Mr. Hao Chengqing’s will has two main parts,” the lawyer explained. “First, all personal assets go to his wife, Xia Xiaoman. Second, he nominates Xia Liuyi as the next Dragon Head.”
Xia Liuyi kept his eyes closed, his uninjured hand trembling as it gripped the blanket tightly.
The elders exchanged glances.
“Qinglong has already cast his vote. What do the rest of you think?” Elder Yuan asked.
“I follow Qinglong’s judgment,” Uncle Qiu, the youngest among them, said. “Xiao Liu is clever and bold—Qinglong was right. He can bear great responsibility.”
“His experience is too shallow,” Elder Ge countered. “He’s never even served as deputy hall master. Promoting him directly to Dragon Head breaks the rules.”
“Rules are made by people—they’re not set in stone,” Uncle Qiu replied. “Xiao Liu has led the Red Pole for years and brought great profit to the company. He has both merit and hardship behind him—I say he’s qualified.”
“He’s still too young,” Elder Ge said. “If he becomes Dragon Head, I’m worried the subordinates won’t accept it.”
The two argued briefly before Prince Duan, who had been silent, finally spoke. “Qinglong became Dragon Head at twenty-five. There were dissenters then as well—what happened to them?”
Elder Ge fell silent. The bloody purge Qinglong had carried out back then rose vividly in everyone’s minds. That refined, scholarly-looking boss had held the Dragon Head position for ten years for a reason—he had his ruthless side.
Prince Duan added calmly, “Besides, the one most unwilling to accept it was Xu Ying. He’s gone now. Who else is left?”
Elder Ge’s face turned ashen. He frowned, saying no more.
“I cast my vote for Xia Liuyi,” Prince Duan said. “Old Yuan?”
Elder Yuan nodded. “I respect Qinglong’s decision. Since only Old Ge objects, it’s settled. We are still in mourning, so we’ll keep things simple. Three days from now, we’ll hold a modest Ascension Ceremony at headquarters and formally install the new Dragon Head.”
At those words, Xia Liuyi, eyes closed, let out a silent breath.
He had no intention of feigning humility or yielding the position. Qinglong was dead. Xu Ying was dead. Cheng Dazui had also died by his hand. The elders all preferred a quiet life and had no desire to step forward. It was obvious who remained capable.
Cui Dongdong, though capable and bold, was too indulgent and carefree, uninterested in leadership. She fully supported Xia Liuyi taking the position.
Only he could strengthen Xiaoqi Hall.
And only he could uncover the truth behind Qinglong’s death…
He lay silently, eyes closed, as the elders finished their business, checked on his “unconscious” state, and departed. Xiao Ma slipped in eagerly.
“Boss Liuyi! Stop pretending!”
“Get lost,” Xia Liuyi said, opening his eyes. “Water.”
Xiao Ma hurried over, offering a cup with a straw and raising the bed. “Boss Liuyi, thank god you’re alright! Anything you need—shitting, pissing—just say the word!”
“Fuck off,” Xia Liuyi said. “Looking at your ugly face, I wouldn’t even be able to piss. Heard you ran pretty damn fast?”
Xiao Ma puffed up proudly. “Of course! Trained by you! One somersault and I flew ten thousand li straight to Boss Dongdong’s place—her songstress hid me right away! Who am I? Your right-hand man! If Xu Ying had caught me, think how much trouble that’d cause you!”
“Damn rat,” Xia Liuyi cursed with a grin. “You switched the safe?”
“First thing I did! As soon as Boss Dongdong got back, I reported to her—you told me that safe was important, to switch it if anything happened. She had it replaced that very night! Boss Liuyi, this time my brain wasn’t in my ass, right? No stick-beating needed, yeah?”
“You do! You want the Red Pole to mess you up?”
“That’d hurt like hell…” Xiao Ma muttered—then suddenly yelped and jumped back. “Boss L-Liuyi, what did you just say?!”
“Courage, brains, a face fierce enough to command the hall,” Xia Liuyi said calmly. “Tomorrow, I’ll propose to the elders—you’ll be the new Red Pole.”
Xiao Ma let out a wailing cry. “Boss Liuyi, you only took a little injury—no need to retire, right?! I’m born to be a lackey! How could I handle your responsibilities? Please, just keep doing it yourself!”
“Fuck,” Xia Liuyi snapped, unable to hold back. “Don’t jinx me—what retirement?! Call me Big Boss!”
“Huh?! Huh?! HUH?!” Xiao Ma shrieked.
“Shut up,” Xia Liuyi said, pressing his temples, then jerked his chin for him to come closer. “After you take the post, investigate something for me. Before Qinglong died, who was Xu Ying in contact with? Round up his confidants and interrogate them one by one.”
Xiao Ma froze. “But… Xu Ying’s core men were all dumped into the sea last night. Not a single one left.”
“What?! Who gave that order?”
“They said it was the elders—something about ‘wolves with ambition aren’t worth keeping.’”
Xia Liuyi frowned deeply, falling silent for a moment. “Keep digging. There’ll always be traces. Just be discreet—don’t let anyone notice.”
“Yes.”
Xia Liuyi intended to elevate Cui Dongdong to Vice Hall Master. A position people would beg for—but Cui Dongdong refused outright, saying she didn’t want to manage people, only money, and told him to stop making trouble for her.
From the hospital bed, wrapped like a mummy, Boss Xia shot her a glare—If you don’t take it, the elders will plant their own people in. Am I your brother or not? Are you doing this or not?!
After some careful thought, Cui Dongdong relented. “Fine—for the sake of protecting you from being ‘inserted,’ I’ll reluctantly take it. But every year, my red envelopes come double.”
Boss Xia hurled a pillow at her—“Dream on!”
And so, Xia Liuyi began his reign as the “Mummy Boss”—in the jianghu known as the Dual-Blade Boss. Yet after leaving the hospital, he never drew his blades again, abandoning the old ways for a new era—he took up guns instead.
Meanwhile, He Chusan’s fever finally broke. Barely clinging to life, he dragged himself up, reviewed his studies, and took all his make-up exams a week later—passing them with high marks, of course.
He Chusan, a highly intelligent and self-reflective person, possessed a brain with exceptional filtering capabilities. During his fever, it seemed to burn away both the illness and those dark, bloody memories alike.
By the time the fever fully subsided, it was already summer vacation. Taking advantage of the library still being open, he lugged back bags of books. By day, he worked at Ah Hua’s café; by night, he studied under candlelight with relentless focus.
Every morning, he took a different route through several alleyways to Longjin Free School—a relic from the Qing Dynasty—where he continued practicing Yang-style Taijiquan in the small square outside.
Uncle Ah Hua, having found a disciple late in life, was delighted and trained him with full enthusiasm. Two hours on one palm technique today, three hours on leg sweeps tomorrow!
Each day, He Chusan was worked to the bone—so busy that he never once thought of that foul-mouthed underworld boss who had beaten and cursed him.
Only once—one early morning—he woke abruptly from a dream. He couldn’t remember what it was about, but his right shoulder began to ache faintly.
Sitting there blankly on the bed where someone had once lain for over a dozen nights, he finally couldn’t stop himself from remembering—
That starlit night.
The cold, ruthless underworld boss, with faint glimmers of tears on his face.
His exhausted, sorrow-tinged sleeping expression.
The low grunt when he was stabbed by the bamboo pole.
The furious yet weak slap from behind.
The teasing laughter when a gun was pressed to his head.
That villain of the underworld had saved him twice. He had repaid him twice. Their debts should have been settled.
And yet… unlike those suffocating, bloody memories he could discard, he could not strip that dark figure from his mind.
What Xia Liuyi left him was not darkness—
But something fierce and unyielding, vivid and burning.
Like a rising tide crashing against his heart, leaving deep, indelible marks. No matter how he tried to smooth them over, the moment he thought of that name, he would hear the roaring surf in his ears.
Clutching his shoulder, he lay back down, burying his head under the covers. Facing himself like this, he could only let out a long, helpless sigh.
…
Two months of peace passed. The start of the school term was just days away.
That morning, sore all over from leg training, he staggered back from Longjin Free School toward Ah Hua’s café—when, in that alley he now considered a forbidden zone, he was ambushed.
Xia Liuyi, dressed in a black suit, leaned against the alley wall with his chin raised, smoking. His hands lounged in his pockets, one long leg stretched out against the opposite wall, effortlessly blocking the path.
The sound of roaring tides surged instantly in He Chusan’s ears.
After staring blankly for a moment, he greeted obediently, “Brother Liuyi.”
“I came to buy beef offal,” Xia Liuyi said casually, flicking the cigarette with his left hand and blowing a perfect smoke ring. “And to get my blade.”
(He had neglected to mention—the Qinglong blade he’d once pressed to He Chusan’s neck was still wrapped up and hidden in the He family stove.)
He Chusan nodded. “My dad kept it. Come upstairs and get it.”
Xia Liuyi flicked ash coldly. “You bring it down.”
“You’ll have to dig it out of stove ash and clean it first. Come up and wait,” He Chusan said patiently. “Don’t worry—my dad won’t pull your teeth again.”
“Cough!” Xia Liuyi choked on his cigarette, then burned himself on the ember. “Cough—fuck! Who the hell’s afraid of your dad?!”
Flustered, he dropped his leg and flicked away the cigarette, brushing ash off himself. Looking up, he saw the boy lowering his head—shoulders trembling.
Xia Liuyi grabbed him by the neck and yanked him closer. “Dare mess with your boss? You fucking wanna die?!”
He Chusan laughed while dodging, coughing from being choked.
Xia Liuyi dragged him in and roughed him up, smacking his head a few times. “Go back and kowtow properly—then we’ll see if I’m in the mood to forgive you!”
“I’m not your lackey,” He Chusan said, hair a mess, voice full of laughter. “How are your injuries? Fully healed?”
Xia Liuyi said lightly, “The tendons in my right hand were cut. Still enough strength left to hold chopsticks.”
He Chusan froze instantly.
Seeing that, Xia Liuyi laughed. “What are you scared of? I don’t need compensation. Even one-handed, I can still beat your teeth out!”
He Chusan stayed silent, and the atmosphere turned awkward. Xia Liuyi pushed him impatiently. “Enough with the funeral face. Go get the blade!”
He Chusan staggered forward—but Xia Liuyi suddenly called out from behind:
“Hey, kid! Know how to play billiards?”
He turned back, opened his mouth—“…No.”
“I’ve opened a few billiard halls in Kowloon. There’s one near your school. After class, come by.”
He paused. “What if I don’t know how?”
“Doesn’t matter. Your Brother Liuyi will teach you personally.”
He Chusan hesitated. “You don’t sell ‘white powder’ there, right?”
“Fuck—who the hell sells drugs at a billiard hall?! We’ve got chalk powder for wiping your hands, though! Want a few pounds of that?!”
He Chusan nodded again, softly saying in the dark, “Then I’ll go.”
And from that moment on, he was entangled—endlessly—with an underworld boss.
Futile Devices Scans 
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