He Chusan tossed and turned upon the narrow iron-framed bed. The creaking of the springs beneath him gave rise to endless phantom sounds—again and again, he thought he heard his brick phone vibrating faintly.
Suddenly, the wailing siren of emergency vehicles sounded from downstairs. He sprang up like a carp leaping from water, darting to the window—only to see a fire engine with an ambulance trailing behind, speeding toward the city. Most likely some household had set off fireworks and burned their place down.
Only after letting out a sigh of relief did he realize the sharp pain in his leg. Grimacing, he sat back down on the bed, hissing softly as he stretched his leg out and gently massaged it.
At last, the brick phone beside his pillow rang. He hurriedly bent forward in a stretching motion to grab it, sucking in a breath from the pain.
“Hiss… Brother Liuyi?”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” He Chusan replied, hopping down from the bed again as he glanced out the window once more. “Where are you?”
“Almost there. Come down.”
“Huh?”
“I’m taking you to see fireworks. Come down.”
He Chusan hung up, threw on a coat, grabbed his crutch, and cautiously opened the door. Peeking his head out to check, he then slipped into the darkness, inch by inch.
Just as he reached for the front door lock, Mr. He suddenly roared from his room, “He A-San!”
He Chusan’s legs went weak at once. His crutch slipped, and he leaned against the door, trembling as he turned back. “D-Dad, I—I’m just taking out the trash…”
“Snore… rr…”
“….”
Turns out it was just sleep talk.
Guilty as a thief, Elite He quickly slipped out the door, moving as lightly as possible. Hugging the wall, he hopped down the stairs on one leg, limping and half-running until he reached the alley behind the building.
Xia Liuyi’s car had not yet arrived. Leaning against the wall, He Chusan panted heavily, cold sweat soaking his back. As he rubbed his aching leg, a troubled thought rose in his heart—
Why was he so afraid of his father? When would he be able to bring Brother Liuyi home openly? Surely he couldn’t hide this forever, deceiving his father for a lifetime?
Xia Liuyi’s car pulled up at the alley entrance. The moment he saw He Chusan hunched over, sighing like some decrepit old man, he couldn’t help but curse,
“You’re still young—why do you act like an old geezer?! Get in!”
He flicked away the half-smoked cigarette in his hand, then frowned. “Where’s your crutch?”
He Chusan froze midway through opening the door and looked down—he had indeed left it by the door!
“….”
Well then—his leg must’ve been scared into healing by his dad!
He coughed lightly. “Forgot it. I can walk like this.”
Xia Liuyi eyed him suspiciously, already thinking of dragging him to the hospital for a checkup the next day. Seeing him about to climb into the passenger seat, he snapped,
“Back seat!”
“Oh.”
Xia Liuyi wasn’t wearing a suit, nor did he bring any bodyguards. He drove an old secondhand Santana, wearing sunglasses at midnight, hair slicked back with oil, dressed in a cheap black leather jacket and ripped jeans—looking every bit like a street punk.
He Chusan found it novel and couldn’t resist sneaking a few extra glances at him.
“What are you staring at?” Xia Liuyi asked, frowning at the rearview mirror.
“You look really young dressed like that.” Like barely in his early twenties.
Xia Liuyi snorted.
He Chusan understood this disguise was meant to avoid detection and didn’t press further, though inwardly he wondered just what “business” Xia Liuyi had been busy with today. Xia Liuyi drove calmly, revealing not the slightest flaw—yet the more composed he appeared, the more uneasy He Chusan felt.
They drove in circles through the night for nearly forty minutes before Xia Liuyi finally parked at a small square near Victoria Peak.
He Chusan, lulled drowsy by the warm air in the car, had nearly fallen asleep and was softly snoring when Xia Liuyi shook him awake.
Xia Liuyi took off his leather jacket and tossed it over his head. “It’s cold outside. Put it on before getting out.”
“If you give it to me, you’ll catch a cold…”
“Shut up and hurry—get dressed and help me carry stuff!”
Bundled up like a bear, He Chusan limped out of the car to help. Together they carried two cardboard boxes from the trunk.
It was already past one in the morning. The crowds that had come to celebrate the New Year had long dispersed. The square lay under faint moonlight, littered with scraps of paper, plastic bags, newspapers, food containers, and disposable cutlery.
Wearing only a shirt and sweater, Xia Liuyi kicked the trash into a pile with his foot, then shoved aside the limping He Chusan who was getting in the way. From the boxes, he pulled out large cylinders of fireworks, placing one every few meters until they were spread across the ground.
After working up a sweat, his face flushed red from the cold, Xia Liuyi grinned with excitement and pride. Scanning the area, he pointed toward a viewing platform atop a flight of steps.
“Hey, Cripple He! Go wait up there! Hurry!”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be right there—move it! Faster!”
He Chusan hobbled up the steps one by one. Just as he grasped the railing—
“Fiu——!”
A firework shot into the sky behind him. He hurriedly hopped onto the platform and turned—
Xia Liuyi came running toward him, hands clamped over his ears, laughing loudly! Behind him, a blazing streak shot straight into the heavens, bursting into dazzling brilliance among the stars!
“Fiu——! Boom!”
Xia Liuyi ran up to him, his cold hands suddenly slapping onto He Chusan’s cheeks, squishing his face into a sandwich before tilting his head upward.
“Hey! Stunned stupid?! Look at the fireworks, not me!”
“You’re better-looking than the fireworks.”
“Cut the mushy crap! Shh—watch!”
“Fiu——! Boom!”
Another golden streak pierced the sky, exploding into a blooming sphere of light. Then came red, green—multicolored sparks cascading down like rain, washing the night sky into shimmering brilliance.
Having never witnessed such splendor at such close range, He Chusan’s heart thundered. Overwhelmed, he shut his eyes tightly for a moment—then turned to look at Xia Liuyi beside him.
This underworld overlord, with countless subordinates at his command, stood there like a child seeing a wonder for the first time—staring unblinking at the fireworks meant only for the two of them, mouth open in pure delight.
He Chusan lifted his gaze back to the radiant sky—yet his hand reached sideways, searching for the other’s palm, fingers intertwining tightly.
“Fiu——! Boom!”
As the final firework faded, Elite He gathered all his tenderness, gently pulling Xia Liuyi closer, ready to steal a romantic kiss—
Only for Xia Liuyi to fling him aside with a casual wave, eyes shining with excitement.
“Wait! One more!”
And off he ran.
“….” He Chusan.
Soon enough, Xia Liuyi returned again amidst a chorus of “Fiu—Fiu—,” striding back energetically as he explained,
“This one’s called ‘Twin Swallows’—it fires two at once! Later there’s ‘Rising Step by Step’—after it explodes, it shoots up again!”
“….”
He Chusan realized the boss actually knew quite a bit about fireworks.
Xia Liuyi kept his head tilted up, completely absorbed. “Damn it, I’ve wanted to play with these for ages! Back then Xiaoman was too timid—kept dragging me away!”
Seizing the moment, He Chusan spoke softly, full of affection—
“Then… how about I accompany you every year from now on?”
He Chusan was mid-confession when Xia Liuyi clapped a hand over his mouth and yanked him into his arms.
“Shut it! Your damn mouth is the most annoying thing—look at the sky!”
He Chusan mischievously stuck out his tongue and licked his palm—only to get a knee slammed into his injured leg. He let out a muffled groan and instantly didn’t dare move.
These two “children” already well into their twenties stood hand in hand atop the mountain, watching fireworks for a full hour. Xia Liuyi had truly bought enough to last ten years in one go—so much so that He Chusan’s neck grew sore from looking up.
Of course, somewhere in the middle, He Chusan finally got his wish—a grand romantic kiss beneath the fireworks. Unfortunately, halfway through, Xia Liuyi shoved him away—because he was in a hurry to light the next one.
Are you on a date with me or with the fireworks…
He Chusan couldn’t help but feel a little aggrieved.
The final firework turned out to be a dud. After lighting it, nothing happened for a long while. Xia Liuyi dashed back to relight it—only to be met with a sudden “Fiu!” right in his face! Luckily he dodged in time, though part of his face was singed black, and a few strands of hair at his forehead were burnt.
He Chusan hurried down on his bad leg to check on him—and upon seeing that soot-covered face, burst into uncontrollable laughter.
Enraged and embarrassed, Boss Xia pinned him down, pretending to spank him. He Chusan hooked an arm around his neck and pulled him down instead, and the two rolled together on the ground, laughing.
In the chaos, someone’s foot kicked the fallen dud firework—
“Fiu!”
Then it spun wildly like a machine gun—
“Fiu! Fiu! Fiu! Fiu!”
The two of them leapt up instantly, clutching their backsides as they fled across the square in panic.
“Fuck!”
“Watch behind you!”
“What the hell is that thing?!”
“My pants! My pants!”
……
At four in the morning, they drove down the mountain, reeking of smoke and powder, their faces blackened, sneezing nonstop from the cold.
The car stopped at a traffic light below the slope of Lan Kwai Fong. Taking advantage of the streetlights outside, they looked at each other—and burst into loud laughter again.
“When I get home, Dad’s going to scold me to death—haha!” said He Chusan, now in the passenger seat, wiping tears of laughter. A large hole had been burned through his pant leg.
“You think you’ve got it worse than me?” Xia Liuyi shot back, his face blackened, with singed patches atop his head and fringe.
“Hahaha, Sister Xiaoman was right—you shouldn’t be allowed to play with this stuff.”
“….”
Xia Liuyi said nothing.
Only then did He Chusan realize what he had said. Thinking he had stirred up painful memories, he immediately fell silent and looked at Xia Liuyi nervously.
But Xia Liuyi wasn’t looking at him—his gaze was fixed on a few figures at the street corner.
Under the dim yellow streetlight, three street thugs had formed a circle, beating a man curled up on the ground.
The man endured the blows without a sound, shielding his head and stomach, offering no resistance. Suddenly, a necklace with a small wooden tag slipped from his clothes. One thug stomped on it, snapping the chain and kicking it aside. When the man reached out to grab it, he was stomped down again.
Before He Chusan could see the man’s face clearly, Xia Liuyi had already pulled the car to the roadside and strode out.
Hands in his pockets, he walked over and said lightly, “Scram.”
“Who the hell are you, you charcoal-faced bastard?!”
“Crazy bastard—beat him to death!”
Knowing his own lack of fighting ability, He Chusan stayed in the car. He watched as Xia Liuyi never even took his hands out of his pockets—relying solely on his long legs to kick the three thugs into fleeing in disarray. As they ran, they shouted the usual empty threats about coming back with some “big brother” to kill them.
Xia Liuyi stood there, hands still in his pockets, looking down at the man curled on the ground.
The man’s hair was filthy and disheveled. His suit jacket hung open, damp and wrinkled, reeking heavily of alcohol. He slowly reached out, retrieved the wooden tag nearby, and tucked it into his pocket—never once looking up at Xia Liuyi, clearly uninterested in who had saved him.
Xia Liuyi sneered. “This is Master Qiao’s territory. If he finds you drunk and collapsed here, what do you think he’ll do to you?”
Hearing his voice clearly, the man suddenly turned his head, anger flashing across his face.
“Xia Liuyi?!”
“Sir Xie,” Xia Liuyi said. “I thought you were someone of caliber. How come after just a few rounds you couldn’t keep playing? Running here to drown yourself in booze—aren’t you lowering your own worth?”
By now, He Chusan had approached as well. To his surprise, this was the very officer who had driven into the mountains to rescue him—and the same one who had once arrested Xia Liuyi.
Xie Jiahua did not appear completely drunk. In an instant, he suppressed his anger, returning to his usual cold, impassive demeanor. Bracing himself against the wall, he staggered upright.
“This isn’t a best-of-three game, Xia Liuyi. If you keep committing such evils, one day you’ll die without a burial ground…”
Xia Liuyi bared his teeth in a savage grin. “Sir Xie, you’d better learn to stand steady before talking tough. What if I just kill you here and toss you into a trash bin—who would ever know?”
“Brother Liuyi!” He Chusan grabbed his hand before it could leave his pocket. “This man saved me.”
Xia Liuyi frowned at him.
“He was the one who rescued me from Master Qiao.”
Xie Jiahua cast a disdainful glance at He Chusan. “And yet you still follow this triad. You’re a clean university student—what exactly did he give you? Do you know how many families he’s destroyed selling drugs? Do you know he runs gambling dens, loansharking, forces people into prostitution—”
“Watch your mouth!” Xia Liuyi cut him off. “Anyone working for me does so willingly. They make tens of thousands a month—better than your female officers!”
Xie Jiahua let out a cold laugh and continued,
“The day you took him in last year, he slaughtered more than a dozen people in a Mid-Levels villa—not one survivor dared identify him. The time I saved you, he burned nine people alive at the North Point pier…”
Before he could finish, Xia Liuyi shoved He Chusan aside and smashed a fist into his face.
“Bullshit! You’d better bring evidence when you talk, Sir Xie!”
Xie Jiahua fell to the ground, gasping—then suddenly sprang up and drove a punch into Xia Liuyi’s jaw!
Caught off guard, Xia Liuyi staggered back several steps. He Chusan rushed to support him, while behind them Xie Jiahua continued, breathing hard—
“…At the crime scene, a handgun suspected to be his was found—and it disappeared that very night! The informant who told me where you were held was silenced within a week! And today—he just completed a major deal with a Thai drug lord, making fools of the O Bureau and the Narcotics Bureau! Do you really not know how vicious and depraved the man beside you is?!”
Xia Liuyi wiped his mouth, glanced at the blood on his hand, and spat.
“As expected of a scholar, Sir Xie—your storytelling would put lawyers to shame! Why not say you fabricated ties between me and Master Qiao, got him captured, then played the savior yourself? Damn fine acting!”
“Enough! Both of you shut up!”
The Senior Inspector and the underworld boss both froze, turning in unison toward the one who dared rebuke them—
He Chusan stood there, leaning on his good leg, brows furrowed.
“It’s already four-thirty. Are you planning to argue until sunrise? Inspector Xie, don’t you have work tomorrow? Brother Liuyi, aren’t you going to the office? If I don’t go home now, my dad will find out—and when he gets angry, even Lion Rock would tremble.”
He limped forward, grabbing the dark-faced Xia Liuyi.
“I don’t have a car, so I’ll trouble Brother Liuyi to take me home. Inspector Xie, you can take a taxi—or walk it off if you can’t find one. Might help you sober up.”
He shoved Xia Liuyi into the driver’s seat, shut the door, then limped around and climbed into the passenger seat himself.
The car sat in silence for a moment—then the engine roared to life, the horn blaring as it drove off into the distance.
Under the dim glow of the streetlights, only Xie Jiahua remained—leaning against the wall, retching. He coughed violently, vomiting until nothing but bile remained, then staggered back and slid down to sit against the wall.
He wiped his face, then slowly drew out the small wooden tag from his pocket.
Staring at the words carved into it, he fell into a long daze before letting out a hoarse, bitter laugh.
“…I really should sober up.”
The narrow wooden tablet, no wider than two fingers, was a miniature spirit tablet. On its front was carved a name; on the back, the dates:
“1958.08.13 – 1983.02.04”
The man had been only twenty-five when he died—so young, so full of life. Nine years had passed since that tragedy, yet Xie Jiahua still had not uncovered a single clue, knew nothing of the truth.
His belief in upholding justice, his refusal to be corrupted—these, in the eyes of others, were nothing but naïve jokes. Year after year, they clashed against reality, sparking bitter flames.
And today—this Lunar New Year’s Eve, the fourth of February—was the death anniversary of his friend, Tang Jiaqi.
Yet once again, he had been utterly defeated.
Futile Devices Scans 
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