Futile Devices Scans

Xia Liuyi had always found He Chusan to be an interesting kid.

On the surface, he looked dull and slow-witted, but in truth his mind was sharp and quick. Yet if you tried to call him smooth, worldly, adaptable—he wasn’t that at all. Hidden beneath was a core of steel. If he didn’t want to do something, he simply wouldn’t. He’d circle around you, playing Supreme Ultimate with you, and refuse to yield even to death.

Usually, he looked timid and meek—but Xia Liuyi had never actually seen him afraid.

Even back when they were being hunted, when the kid carried him on his back and stumbled along, panting and wheezing, he still wore that same foolish, dazed expression. There had been confusion, even helplessness—but never fear.

This—

This was the first time Xia Liuyi had seen him like this.

Frozen like a statue, unmoving. Both hands clenched tightly at his pants. Eyes fixed unblinking on the doors of the operating room.

There wasn’t a trace of color on his face. His gaze was empty, as if all that cleverness had left him along with his soul.

Xia Liuyi lowered his eyes and noticed—his fingers were trembling.

Without thinking, he placed a hand over the boy’s sweat-damp head, rubbing it.

“Don’t worry. The doctor said the success rate for this kind of surgery is very high.”

He Chusan let himself be manhandled without reaction, still staring blankly at the tightly shut doors. After a while, he spoke in a low voice:

“When I got back, I saw him collapsed on the floor. The shop was still open… but no one noticed. The neighbors had all closed up and gone to sleep.”

“He keeps the shop open this late every day. And opens early again in the morning. It’s been like this for years.”

“He’s already so old… and he still can’t rest. Still has to make money to support me…”

Xia Liuyi was just about to say your dad isn’t even that old—say that to his face and he’ll knock your teeth out, when he stopped—

Two streams of tears slid down the boy’s face, splashing onto his worn, faded trousers.

Something in Xia Liuyi’s cold, hardened heart softened.

After all… he was just a kid. Living alone with his old man—it wasn’t easy.

He pressed a hand to his shoulder and pulled him close, holding him tight for a moment.

“Stop crying. Hold it together.”

He Chusan choked back a sob, trembling for a bit—then, just as told, he held it in. After a long while, he lowered his head and wiped his messy, tear-streaked face with his hands.

“I’m okay now, Brother Liuyi. Thank you for driving us here,” he said hoarsely.

Then he took out a small oil-paper-wrapped bundle from his clothes. Opening it revealed a crumpled stack of cash.

“For the hospital fees you paid earlier…”

Xia Liuyi waved him off casually.

“Forget it. Keep it—buy some ginseng tea for your dad.”

“My dad won’t accept money from the underworld,” He Chusan said. “If he finds out you paid the hospital fees, he’ll insist on being discharged.”

“……”

Xia Liuyi choked on his temper—again.

Grinding his teeth, he said, “Then just say I owe him for tooth extractions.”

He Chusan pretended to calculate for a moment.

“That’d be one thousand five per tooth.”

Smack! Xia Liuyi slapped him on the head.

“The hell—feeling better now, huh? Taking shots at your Brother Liuyi is getting addictive?”

He Chusan covered his head, chuckling quietly.

Xia Liuyi stayed with him until the surgery was over.

He Chusan’s father had been given anesthesia and was wheeled out, snoring softly, then transferred to a ward. It was a sudden cerebral hemorrhage, but fortunately he had been brought in time and it wasn’t severe. The surgery was successful—he just needed to wake up and recover under observation before discharge.

He Chusan carefully tucked in his father’s blanket, then walked Xia Liuyi out.

They stood side by side in the corridor. Just as Xia Liuyi was about to leave, He Chusan suddenly grabbed his sleeve.

Glancing around to make sure no one was nearby, he lowered his head and said softly:

“Brother Liuyi… what I said tonight… I didn’t mean it like that.”

Leaning against the wall, Xia Liuyi tilted his head and lazily lit a cigarette.

“Oh? Which part?”

“When I said… next time, don’t take me out with you.”

“…Mm.” Xia Liuyi looked indifferent, but inside he sneered, waiting to hear what excuse the kid would come up with.

“I just…” He Chusan hesitated, then spoke honestly.

“When I saw them pointing guns at you… I was scared.”

Xia Liuyi paused mid-drag.

He watched as the boy lifted his head, eyes filled with concern and something like quiet sorrow.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt again,” He Chusan said. “When I think about you like that… it hurts.”

“…Cough.” Xia Liuyi.

“I shouldn’t have said things to upset you. I’m sorry, Brother Liuyi. Actually… even though sometimes we can’t really communicate, I like being with you. What happened tonight was my fault. There’s a chicken pot place in Hung Hom that’s really good—my classmate told me about it. Next time, I’ll treat you, okay?”

Xia Liuyi didn’t answer.

He’d completely choked on his cigarette—he flicked it away and started coughing violently.

“Cough—cough, cough, cough—!”

“No smoking in the hospital, Brother Liuyi.”

The idiot who had absolutely no idea what he’d just said patted his back, earnestly trying to persuade him.

…

Xia Liuyi felt that something about He Chusan’s expression—and those words that night—was off.

But he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

If you explained it as brotherly affection, it still made sense. After all, Xia Liuyi had stepped in to help, saved his father—getting a bit of goodwill in return was only natural.

Besides—

Ambiguity between men was rare.

He figured he was overthinking it.

And with He Chusan’s bookish, socially awkward personality, he probably couldn’t even tell which things were appropriate to say, and which might carry… questionable implications.

After that night—

Fat Seven threw himself fully into conflict with Xiaoqi Hall, even allying with several old forces Xia Liuyi had once “bullied”—including Boss Sha, whose gambling den in Kowloon Walled City Jiaolong had been smashed before.

They stirred up no small amount of trouble for Xia Liuyi.

Xia Liuyi was busy with “company affairs,” while He Chusan focused on his studies and caring for his recovering father, the two of them didn’t see each other for nearly a month.

One day, Xiao Ma came to “headquarters” to report.

He couldn’t resist complaining to the boss—

“That He kid hasn’t shown up at the billiards room in ages! No respect for the boss at all! Been around this long and still hasn’t come to pay respects—no sense of gratitude!”

He was promptly sent flying by a cigarette butt.

“Shut the hell up and get back to work!”

Xiao Ma scrambled away in panic.

That very afternoon, he called again—

“Boss! That He kid’s at the billiards room! Says he has something to see you about!”

Xia Liuyi was in a meeting with several managers and didn’t pay it much mind. He just told Xiao Ma to send a car to bring him over.

After the meeting, he made time to see him.

He Chusan arrived with a small backpack, practically escorted in by two large bodyguards.

“What is it?” Xia Liuyi set down the half-smoked cigar he’d been holding for show.

He never really liked cigars—too strong, and they reeked of nouveau riche taste. Coming from a grassroots background, he always felt he was different from people like Boss Sha and Fat Seven.

He Chusan glanced at the bodyguards.

Xia Liuyi waved a hand—they left immediately.

He Chusan took out a stack of papers from his backpack.

“The script you asked for. I’ve been taking care of my dad lately, so I wrote it a bit slowly.”

Xia Liuyi had completely forgotten about it. He casually stuffed the script into a drawer.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“Are you free tonight? I want to treat you to chicken pot in Hung Hom.”

Xia Liuyi raised an eyebrow, half amused.

“You’re treating me?”

“I said I would,” the poor kid replied seriously.

Xia Liuyi chuckled, then called out, “Angel!”

A moment later, a tall secretary with long, pale legs clicked in on high heels.

“Boss.”

“What’s my schedule tonight?”

“Dinner at six with Wu Dasha at Lin Heung Lau, and at seven-thirty, Manager Cui has arranged a meeting at the nightclub.”

“Push Dasha to tomorrow. Cui Dongdong to eight-thirty.”

“Yes.”

The secretary swayed her hips as she left.

Now only the two of them remained in the spacious office.

“Sit and wait. I’ve got some things to look over.” Xia Liuyi gestured toward the sofa.

He Chusan sat properly, holding his backpack, then pulled out a thick book and started reading quietly.

Xia Liuyi continued frowning over the stack of reports in front of him, occasionally grabbing a dictionary to check something.

After a while, he noticed something was off.

“Kid, come here and take a look.”

He Chusan obediently leaned over, scanning the sections Xia pointed out. Just as he was about to explain, his brows suddenly knit together.

“An overseas company? Thailand? …You’re laundering money?”

“Cut the crap,” Xia Liuyi said, ruffling his hair roughly. “What’s going on with this section?”

“I’m not helping you launder dirty money,” the kid actually turned his head away stubbornly.

That instantly pissed Xia Liuyi off.

“I didn’t ask you to do the accounts! Just looking at it will blind your damn dog eyes?!”

He Chusan covered his “dog eyes,” then slipped away like a loach, retreating silently back to the sofa to continue flipping through his thick book.

Xia Liuyi hurled an ashtray at him—he dodged it.

“Fucking brat!” Xia Liuyi cursed. “If you hadn’t saved my life, I’d have skinned you alive by now! Don’t push your luck!”

He Chusan was completely immune, acting like he hadn’t heard a thing. He even reminded him:

“Brother Liuyi, hurry up. That chicken pot place gets crowded—if we’re late, we’ll have to queue.”

“Fuck!”

Xia Liuyi had finally gotten hold of a top finance student from a prestigious university—

And not only was he unusable, he got lectured every time instead. The frustration left him speechless.

He really wanted to skin this brat alive—

But then again… forget it.

Just a frail student. For a boss like him to stoop to that level—it wasn’t worth it.

The chicken pot place in Hung Hom indeed had a long line stretching into the street.

His bodyguards forced their way in and secured a window table.

As He Chusan was dragged in, he protested, “Someone was sitting there—you can’t just take their table like that…”

“You just realized I’m triad today?” Xia Liuyi sneered. “Who was it that invited the triad to dinner?”

He Chusan fell silent.

The two of them, each thinking—

This fucking brat—acting righteous like a whore putting up a chastity shrine!

Once a triad, always a triad—beyond saving!

—leaned over the menu together.

Then, in perfect unison, they told the server:

“Large chicken pot, medium spicy!”

Xia Liuyi shot him a glare. “Baby bok choy.”

“Mushrooms and fatty beef,” He Chusan added quickly.

Smack! Xia Liuyi slapped the menu.

“Aren’t those your favorites?” He Chusan asked, confused.

Xia Liuyi took a deep breath, repeatedly reminding himself not to stoop to this level. Irritated, he pulled out a cigarette and put it to his lips—

Before he could light it, the unaware waiter spoke up:

“Sir, smoking is not allowed inside.”

Xia Liuyi’s cold, arrogant glare hadn’t even landed yet—

He Chusan had already reassured the waiter:

“It’s okay. He’ll choke on it in a moment anyway.”

“….”

This time, Xia Liuyi was so angry he went quiet instead.

He put the cigarette away. Waited until the waiter had left.

Then said coldly:

“As long as you’re still breathing, you’re going to argue with me, huh?”

“No,” He Chusan said earnestly. “I respect you very much, Brother Liuyi.”

“Shut the hell up!” Xia Liuyi snapped. “Say one more word and I’ll dump the whole pot on your head!”

He Chusan sighed like an old man, wearing a look that said unreasonable triads are impossible to communicate with, and obediently lowered his head to arrange the tableware.

How much restraint does it take for me not to kill this kid? Xia Liuyi suddenly felt a strange bitterness.

Thinking back on the past year since meeting him—

He almost wished he had just beaten him to death with a stool leg from the start.

The two sat in silence, staring at the bubbling chicken pot.

The mushrooms He Chusan had added weren’t cooked yet. Xia Liuyi pressed them down with his chopsticks, stirring—

Then suddenly remembered something.

He kicked the table next to him.

A bodyguard immediately stood and respectfully handed over a paper-wrapped bundle.

Xia Liuyi nudged it over with his chopsticks.

“Payment for the script.”

But He Chusan didn’t take it.

Still stirring the mushrooms, he looked at Xia Liuyi expectantly.

“Stop pretending. You can talk now,” Xia Liuyi said impatiently.

“I don’t want it,” He Chusan said.

Xia Liuyi’s face darkened.

Before he could explode, the kid quickly added:

“I wrote it voluntarily, Brother Liuyi. No need to pay me.”

“Cut the brotherhood bullshit!” Xia Liuyi snapped. “You just think my money’s dirty, don’t you?!”

“I never said you were my ‘brother,’” He Chusan replied. “You’re my friend.”

Xia Liuyi let out a cold laugh.

“You won’t be triad, but you’ll be friends with one? You think that keeps you clean?”

He Chusan lowered his head, picking up a piece of chicken tail.

“I’m not trying to keep myself clean. I just… really can’t take the money.”

That—

Was the last straw.

Xia Liuyi’s expression turned icy. He set down his chopsticks—

Then suddenly flipped the entire table.

Bang! Crash!

The sudden noise and the shattering clay pot stunned everyone in the restaurant. The overturned burner went out instantly, hissing as gas leaked.

Staff rushed over screaming to shut off the tank. Just as they were about to explode in anger—

They were blocked by Xia Liuyi’s towering bodyguards.

Customers stared, gathering around to watch.

The manager hurried over, trying to smooth things out.

“Boss! Boss! Let’s talk this through—!”

A bodyguard shoved him aside.

“None of your business. Get lost!”

He Chusan sat there, stunned.

The boiling chicken pot hadn’t been dumped over his head like Xia Liuyi had threatened—

But it had splashed all over his worn, gray-white shoes and pants.

Xia Liuyi didn’t even look at him.

Face cold, he turned and walked out.

The bodyguards quickly followed.

He Chusan stared at his retreating back—

Until the manager tugged at him.

“Kid, are you alright? Do you owe them money?”

“I’m fine,” He Chusan said quietly.

He bent down, picking through the mess until he found the soaked paper bundle, then grabbed his backpack.

“How much for the chicken pot and the clay pot? I’ll pay for it.”

“Forget it,” the manager sighed. “You’re clearly being bullied. It’s not easy for you either. Just go.”

He Chusan walked out of the restaurant holding his bag.

At that moment, Xia Liuyi’s car sped out of a nearby parking lot, exhaust trailing behind.

Inside, Xia Liuyi sat expressionless in the back seat, turned slightly to the side, speaking on the phone.

He Chusan watched the car disappear around the corner.

Then lowered his gaze to the thick, dirt-stained paper bundle in his hands.

He wasn’t anything special.

And the tolerance of that proud, cold-blooded triad boss—

Had reached its limit.

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