In a high-rise facing the sea in Central, within a central office buzzing with people and ringing telephones, He Chusan—fully absorbed in hammering away at a bulky computer—suddenly let out a violent sneeze!
No sooner had the sneeze passed than a strange chill ran down his spine. Sniffling, he looked up—far above, the central air-conditioning unit hummed as it blasted out cold air.
That evening, He Chusan got off work right on time—astonishing no small number of colleagues. After buying some fresh meat and vegetables at the market, he hurried home. Yet the moment he pushed open the door, he sensed something was off.
It was dusk; the light outside had already dimmed, and with the curtains drawn, the room was sealed in gloom. Xia Liuyi had neither turned on the lights nor the television. He lounged crookedly on the sofa, long legs propped atop the coffee table. One hand supported his head, while the other idly spun a roll of film. A chilling, oppressive aura radiated from him.
The dishes and lunchboxes on the table had been violently swept aside, greasy leftovers and pale ceramic shards scattered all over the floor. At the center of the table lay a camera smashed cleanly in two, with several photographs strewn nearby.
—No matter how one looked at it, it resembled a lawful wife hiring a private detective to catch an affair, then returning home with evidence in hand to demand justice.
A chill ran down the “Film Emperor” He Chusan’s spine. He swallowed hard, quickly banishing this wildly inappropriate thought. Acting as though nothing were amiss, he shut the door, turned on the lights, set down his things, removed his glasses—only then stepping forward calmly toward the murderous aura emanating from the great boss Xia.
“Brother Liuyi,” he began, his expression as frank and sincere as ever. Utterly innocent. Utterly honest.
Xia Liuyi lashed out with a kick to his knee, sending him crashing to the ground on the spot!
He Chusan fell amid the greasy shards, his knees instantly pierced by fragments. Enduring the pain in silence, he braced himself and straightened into a kneeling position, lifting his gaze to Xia Liuyi—his face still composed.
“Brother Liuyi,” he called again.
Xia Liuyi’s face was dark as iron, his voice cold as frost. “Who took these? When were they taken? How were they taken?”
The photos on the table—and the undeveloped film—were all images of him just leaving the company. Some showed him standing at the entrance, others bending into his car. Most damnable of all was a sharp close-up: him seated inside the car, window down, calmly smoking!
How close had the photographer been? How well hidden?!
He Chusan answered each question obediently. “I took them. On weekends when I wasn’t working overtime. I wore a disguise.”
Xia Liuyi ground his teeth and let out a cold laugh. “Impressive, He A-San. Grown quite capable, haven’t you? Playing at tailing people in your spare time? No wonder you gloat whenever cops are mentioned—what, you’re a cop yourself?!”
He Chusan looked up at him and offered an utterly sincere explanation. “No, Brother Liuyi. I wouldn’t pass the physical tests. I studied finance—being a policeman doesn’t suit me. At most, I could join the ICAC.”
Xia Liuyi sprang up and kicked him again! “The hell—you still dare talk back?! Shut it!”
He Chusan collapsed forward, then scrambled upright again, this time wisely keeping silent.
Xia Liuyi dropped back onto the sofa and slapped the armrest. “Alright then, He A-San. Seems I really underestimated you. These past months—playing the chaste gentleman, dating Xiao He, sending gifts, sharing meals, even yesterday’s ‘doctor visit’—all just for my benefit, hm?”
He Chusan nodded honestly. “Yes.”
A thin breath hissed from Xia Liuyi’s throat. In an instant, he leapt up, grabbed He Chusan by the hair, and slammed his head onto the table with a sharp crack. Snatching up a greasy, blood-stained shard from the floor, he pressed it against his throat, grinning savagely. “And you still dare admit it? Got a death wish?”
With his face crushed sideways against the table, He Chusan’s eyes strained to look at him. His lips moved. “Brother Liuyi… just a moment.”
Xia Liuyi loosened his grip slightly in confusion. Carefully, He Chusan turned, retrieved a cloth from beneath the table, and gently took the sharp shard from Xia Liuyi’s hand. He wiped the boss’s palm clean, brushed away the debris clinging to his fingers, padded it with the cloth, then set the shard aside again.
Then he resignedly pressed his face back against the table. “Go on. Be careful not to cut your hand.”
“…”
Xia Liuyi.
Xia Liuyi tossed the shard aside, yanked off He Chusan’s suit jacket, rolled it up, and lashed him mercilessly with it! As he struck, he cursed furiously, “Damn it! You think a little act like that will stop me from killing you?! You gutter rat! You bastard! Playing tricks on your boss?! I’ll beat you to death today!”
Dressed only in a thin shirt, He Chusan shielded his head and face, dodging while letting out muffled laughter. Seeing his shoulders trembling, Xia Liuyi grew even more enraged—kicking, striking, cursing—beating him for a full ten minutes before finally stopping.
Having vented his fury, the great boss sat sprawled on the sofa, legs wide, panting heavily. When he saw the little rascal furtively trying to straighten up, he kicked him down again!
“Brother Liuyi, stop hitting me,” He Chusan quickly clutched his calf, forcing a bitter smile. “I have clients to meet tomorrow.”
“Meet your—” Xia Liuyi was about to kick him again, but upon seeing the blood and shards embedded in the lower half of his trousers, he darkened and withdrew his leg.
Bracing himself against the table, He Chusan stood upright. He glanced down at his sorry state, then bent to carefully pull a blood-soaked fragment from his knee. A thin stream of blood immediately welled out.
Xia Liuyi’s heart jolted. He held back… and held back… but in the end couldn’t. “Go change your pants. Come back and put on medicine.”
He Chusan froze mid-motion, looking up at him.
This ruthless underworld boss—capable of cutting down dozens alone with twin blades, of smashing an eight-foot brute’s head into the ground with a single punch—claimed he would beat him to death, yet only exhausted himself. A man who had seen countless scenes of blood and brutality—yet could not bear the sight of a small wound on his knee.
Stepping shakily across the shards, He Chusan moved forward. His knees buckled—and he collapsed straight into Xia Liuyi!
Startled, Xia Liuyi thought he had knocked him unconscious. In a flurry, he lifted the head buried in his shoulder—only to find him perfectly fine!
Sweat from suppressed pain covered He Chusan’s face. Meeting the concern Xia Liuyi had yet to conceal, he tightened his arms and wrapped them around the man’s waist.
“What are you doing? Get off!” Xia Liuyi snapped, thinking the boy had been beaten stupid. His weak right hand slapped against his forehead.
“Boss Liuyi,” He Chusan murmured softly against him. His eyes, dark as a still pool, reflected Xia Liuyi entirely.
On that usually honest and sincere face, a sly smile suddenly appeared.
“Brother Liuyi, you should understand—someone like me… if you can’t bring yourself to strike me down… then you’ll never be able to push me away again.”
Without warning, he lowered his head and covered Xia Liuyi’s lips.
For all his calculations, Xia Liuyi had never imagined this bastard would dare such boldness. Caught completely off guard, his mind went blank—frozen like a block of wood!
The little rascal even slipped his tongue in, gentle and lingering, tasting his lips and teeth, teasing lightly at his tongue.
Xia Liuyi’s last kiss had been over a decade ago—in a damp, moldy crimson room, with a heavily made-up woman whose thick powder, mingled with alcohol and lipstick, had made him shove her away and vomit uncontrollably. Now, struck by He Chusan’s clean, tender kiss, his breathing trembled instinctively.
Truth be told, He Chusan had little real technique—only theories from books. Yet the moment he touched Xia Liuyi’s soft, warm lips, his entire spine melted, his organs nearly dissolving within him—just as he had long imagined: Boss Liuyi’s lips were soft, warm, and sweet…
His mind turned to mush. Eyes closed, he drowned in the moment, relying purely on willpower to maintain composure. Fortunately, Xia Liuyi offered little resistance—until He Chusan had roamed freely within his mouth, only withdrawing reluctantly when he could no longer breathe, licking his lips once more before pulling back.
Only then did Xia Liuyi snap back to his senses—and immediately threw a punch!
Prepared in advance, He Chusan tilted his head and dodged. Meeting Xia Liuyi’s wide, furious eyes, he fearlessly leaned in and planted another kiss at the corner of his lips.
“Brother Liuyi, next time remember to brush your teeth after lunch,” he murmured, brushing lightly against his nose—a shameless conclusion to their first kiss.
In the next instant, Xia Liuyi drove his knee into his abdomen and flipped him onto the ground—sending him crashing into the shards once more!
—Still painfully weak in combat, Elite He.
He Chusan floundered briefly before hauling himself up with the table. Xia Liuyi sat on the sofa, fists clenched, panting heavily—his face, neck, and ears flushed crimson—whether from shame or fury, none could tell. His eyes, however, burned red—those, at least, were certainly from anger.
Xia Liuyi sat there with steam practically rising from his head, glaring murderously at He Chusan for a long while. His left fist clenched so tightly it crackled, yet his mind was no less muddled—he simply could not think of what to do next…
—Might as well kill him! Chop off his head, tear out his tendons, flay his skin, strip the flesh and feed it to the dogs!
Before he could put this furious plan into action, a sudden knock sounded at the door.
Both men stiffened, collecting themselves as they exchanged a glance. Xia Liuyi flipped up and slipped lightly into the bedroom. He Chusan grabbed the photos and camera from the table, stuffing them under the sofa in one motion, while hurriedly stripping off his tattered clothes. Raising his voice, he called out, “Who is it?”
“Hello, your neighbor next door,” came a gentle female voice. “Could I borrow some soy sauce?”
He Chusan had only lived here a month or two, leaving early and returning late—he had never interacted with the neighbors. Though suspicion flickered in his heart, he glanced through the peephole and indeed saw an ordinary young woman in her twenties, calmly composed.
He shot a look toward Xia Liuyi, who stood by the bedroom door, frowning, then tossed him a pair of trousers and a shirt.
As He Chusan dressed in clean clothes, he replied, “Just a moment.”
“Alright, thank you.”
Before opening the door, He Chusan’s eyelid twitched. He peered through the peephole again, studying her more carefully. Something felt off—the way she stood, slightly too centered, as if shielding something nearby. Besides, in this kind of cheap tenement building rental, tenants were a mixed lot. A young single woman casually knocking on a new tenant’s door…
A shadow crossed his mind. He stepped back, about to warn Xia Liuyi—when the flimsy door was suddenly smashed open from outside!
Bang—!
With a thunderous crash, three officers burst in through the dust. The plainclothes female officer in the lead twisted He Chusan’s arm behind his back and pinned him down. Just as she reached for handcuffs, He Chusan flipped up like a carp, kicking backward toward her shoulder.
The female officer was knocked to the ground. The other two rushed forward to assist. He Chusan swept his leg in a Taiji-style arc—impressive in form, but outnumbered. In the blink of an eye, the three officers forced him back down, proving once again the old truth—his combat strength was pitifully weak.
“Don’t touch him,” Xia Liuyi’s cold voice suddenly rang out nearby.
He Chusan jerked his head up in alarm. Xia Liuyi had changed out of his sleepwear and, against all reason, walked out of the bedroom himself.
He Chusan struggled again but was firmly pinned to the ground. He raised his head with effort, breathing heavily.
Xia Liuyi glanced at him and gave a slight frown, signaling him to stay calm.
A fourth man entered from outside—dressed in a sharp suit, expressionless: Xie Jiahua. He looked at Xia Liuyi. “So you really are here.”
“It has nothing to do with him,” Xia Liuyi said. “He knows nothing. Let him go—I’ll come with you.”
“Brother Liuyi!” He Chusan called urgently.
“Shut up!” Xia Liuyi barked.
He Chusan clenched his teeth, fists tightening in silence.
Xie Jiahua looked at He Chusan lying pinned on the ground. After a moment’s silence, he said to his subordinates, “Release him.”
“Sir, he’s harboring a suspect—” one of the newer officers began.
Xie Jiahua shot him a look, and the subordinate wisely fell silent.
“Xia Liuyi, you are under arrest for suspicion of intentional homicide. You have the right to remain silent, but anything you say may be used as evidence in court,” one officer recited as he cuffed Xia Liuyi. He tried to push him forward, but Xia Liuyi twisted his shoulder free.
Xia Liuyi strode out on his own. He Chusan stumbled after him, calling out again in urgency, “Brother Liuyi!”
“I’ll say a word to him,” Xia Liuyi said to Xie Jiahua.
Xie Jiahua paused slightly. Xia Liuyi, still in cuffs, walked back. He Chusan stood by the door, watching him anxiously.
And then—Xia Liuyi suddenly lifted his knee and kicked him straight back into the room!
“You gutter rat! I’ll deal with you when I get back!”
……
He Chusan knew that last kick was meant to reassure him. But even after taking that solid blow to the chest, not a trace of his anxiety faded. Once the police took Xia Liuyi away, he hailed a taxi straight for Kowloon Tong. After getting out, he circled carefully twice to ensure he wasn’t being followed, then rushed toward Cui Dongdong’s home.
He had come in a frenzy to deliver the news, yet Cui Dongdong was far more relaxed. “Huh? Caught already? It’s fine, it’s fine—I’ll send a lawyer over right away. Don’t worry, Xiao San! Go back and get some sleep!”
If even the ever-reliable Cui Dongdong said so, He Chusan had no choice but to leave uneasily. He did not return to Hong Kong Island, instead heading to his father’s home nearby.
It was evening. His father had already closed his stall, eaten dinner, and was downstairs chatting with neighbors in the cool air. Seeing He Chusan approach in a daze, he quickly called out, “A-San? What brings you back? Have you eaten?”
He Chusan shook his head blankly.
Noticing something off about his mood, his father hurried him upstairs. “What’s wrong? Hey—why are your pants covered in blood?!”
Distressed, Father He rushed to fetch a first-aid kit, rolling up his trousers to tend to his wounds. As he cleaned and dressed them, he asked anxiously, “What happened? Say something!”
Lowering his head, He Chusan said softly, “Dad… did the police come by today? Did you tell them where I live?”
“Yes, this afternoon. They said they were checking on residents relocated from Jiaolong Walled City. They asked where you live now, so I told them. What, did the police do this to you?! What trouble are you in?”
“It’s nothing, Dad. From now on, don’t tell anyone anything about me. Just say I moved out and you don’t know where I am. I’ll get a new phone card—if the old one can’t reach me, call the new one. Don’t tell anyone else.”
Hearing his voice grow lower and lower, Mr. He became more alarmed. “A-San, tell me honestly—what happened? What can’t you tell your own father?!”
He Chusan took a deep breath. After a long pause, he finally said, “Brother Liuyi… was arrested.”
Bare-kneed, his legs marked with blood and shards, he bent forward, clutching his head. His shoulders trembled faintly as he repeated in a low voice, “Brother Liuyi was arrested.”
“That toothy brat?” Mr. He sighed. “What now? Got caught selling ‘flour’ again?”
“No.” He Chusan shook his head, unwilling to elaborate further.
“Ah…” Mr. He sighed deeply. “People spend their lives committing sins—they have to repay their debts eventually! Those who walk the underworld will have to pay sooner or later! You’re a university student—why worry about the triads? Just let him be!”
He Chusan said nothing, only shook his head, his fingers digging tightly into his temples.
He could not say it. Could not accept it. How could he just let it be? How could he let go? He had only just kissed those lips—and then watched helplessly as the man was taken away by police who smashed through the door. In that moment when he was pinned to the ground, he had gone mad enough to want to block the police for Xia Liuyi, to let him escape at all costs… Justice, conscience, morality—he had studied for over a decade, listened to his father’s teachings for over twenty years—yet he had wanted to protect a bloodstained villain!
He had once been filled with hope and ambition, believing that one day he could guide this wayward man of the underworld back onto the righteous path. But the road ahead was long—and before he could even take a proper step forward, he had already fallen into it himself!
He had been too naïve, too optimistic. For half a year, he had played a delicate game of advance and retreat, never noticing the dark currents beneath the calm surface. He thought they had time—time for him to grow, to prepare, to plan, to persuade… Yet only today did he awaken to the truth: Xia Liuyi’s downfall could come in an instant—and he himself was utterly powerless to save him.
Cui Dongdong told him not to worry—but how could he not? Xia Liuyi lived recklessly—running gambling dens, brothels, dealing “flour,” fighting rival gangs—doing everything! Even if he escaped this time, how could he escape the next? One day he might be arrested again—or die violently in the streets… Those who walk the underworld must repay their debts…
The image of Xia Liuyi’s corpse lying in the street filled his mind, growing more vivid the more he thought—until he trembled in fear. Drawing in a deep breath, he lowered his damp hands from his face, thinking he had cried—only to find his palms slick with cold sweat.
“Dad, I’m fine… let me be alone for a while,” he said softly, staring at the sweat in his hands.
Mr. He let out a long sigh and patted his bowed head. This son of his had always seemed obedient and sensible, yet carried his own mind within—beyond his control. Still, He Chusan was intelligent and measured—surely nothing too serious would come of it.
That night, He Chusan slept in the small room his father had turned into a storage space, clutter piled beneath and around the bed.
In the cramped darkness, he lay with eyes wide open. Slowly, he raised his right hand toward the shadowed ceiling.
He spread his fingers, staring at their slender shape—then gradually, firmly, clenched them into a fist… before loosening them once more.
Futile Devices Scans 
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