Futile Devices Scans

Qin Hao’s battle lasted roughly twenty minutes.

The first three opponents posed little difficulty, but the final two burly men forced him to exert himself. Even so, amid the crowd’s thunderous cheers and frenzied howls, he struck them down one after another. The surging excitement of the masses made even the ring tremble, while the roars crashed like rolling thunder. Seven or eight bodyguards forced a path through the crowd and escorted Qin Hao back to the changing room.

The locker room was empty. Qin Hao walked heavily to the ice bucket by the wall, tore off the towel from his head, wrapped several ice cubes inside it, and staggered over to a nearby bench. Pressing the ice against his temples, he tried to still the relentless ringing in his ears.

Earlier, before the third opponent fell, a heavy punch had struck his temple. The dizziness had come immediately, his vision spinning. He had forced himself to subdue the remaining two men, but the moment he stepped off the ring, his vision went black and he nearly collapsed—luckily caught by a bodyguard.

He pressed the ice to his head, breathing roughly. Then suddenly, he sensed footsteps approaching. Lifting his head, through his still-blurred vision, he saw Xia Liu Yi.

“In prison, you held something back,” Xia Liu Yi said lazily, leaning against the doorway. He could tell Qin Hao’s leg techniques were formidable—trained under a true master, not the crude brawling of common street thugs. Back then, when Shrimp Skin and Limping Sha had surrounded Qin Hao, Xia Liu Yi had cut through the fray and subdued him first, pulling him out of danger. In truth, had Qin Hao fought with his full strength at the time, Xia Liu Yi—using only one hand—might not have been able to restrain him.

Qin Hao lowered his head, wiped the sweat from his face, and replied calmly, “Alone in prison, I needed someone to rely on.”

He had already discerned the tripartite balance of power then, and had deliberately lost to Xia Liu Yi. Recalling how Qin Hao had pretended aloofness, saying, “I don’t need you to stand up for me,” Xia Liu Yi cursed inwardly.

“After you got out, why didn’t you come find me?” Xia Liu Yi asked. Since Qin Hao had once saved the leader of Xiao Qi Hall, the Hall would not have treated him poorly. Xia Liu Yi had even reserved a managerial position for him. Yet after his release, Qin Hao had vanished without a trace—wasting Xia Liu Yi’s goodwill.

Qin Hao remained composed. “You saved me once, I returned it once. We’re even now.”

The implication was clear—whether he found Xiao Qi Hall too dark, or simply did not want the constraints of the underworld, he had no intention of involving himself with Xia Liu Yi.

Xia Liu Yi let out a cold snort. “Better to follow Master Qiao than me?”

“I don’t belong to the He Sheng Society. Master Qiao and I are just business partners—my life for his money. Nothing more.”

Xia Liu Yi snorted again, said nothing further, and turned to leave the room.

Outside, Xiao Ma stood guard with the bodyguards. Unable to resist, he peeked inside for another look at Qin Hao—and shivered at how strikingly similar he looked to the former Azure Dragon Boss. He quickly turned away and followed Xia Liu Yi.

“Dig into his background. Find out why he’s risking his life fighting these underground matches,” Xia Liu Yi instructed as he walked.

“Yes!” Xiao Ma replied diligently—while keenly sensing that this man’s connection to the boss was anything but simple. Though he didn’t dare entertain any improper thoughts involving the Azure Dragon Boss, he instinctively felt that the surnamed He brat was about to lose favor. Ah, what a joyous day for Master Ma!

—In truth, he was overthinking. Xia Liu Yi harbored not the slightest improper thought toward Qin Hao. The only impulse that face stirred in him was to carve it off with a blade, so he would not be plagued by unnecessary sorrow. It was simply that, with so many matters at hand and too few capable subordinates, he needed someone like Qin Hao—calm, intelligent, ungreedy, and deadly in skill.

……

By the time they left the arena, the moon hung high in a sparse sky. After parting with Master Qiao, Xia Liu Yi ordered his driver to speed home.

When he opened the door, the living room was warmly lit, still faintly humid from a recent bath. He shed his coat, slipped into his slippers, and called out several times, “A’San”—but received no answer.

He searched every room, then lifted the lid of the kitchen steamer. Inside sat half a fish and a bowl of rice. Only the head and tail had been eaten—the tender belly remained untouched. He touched the rice. It was already cold.

He dialed He Chu San’s phone—but the ringing came from the coffee table in the living room.

After a brief pause, realization struck. He turned and headed upstairs to the rooftop.

Sure enough, He Chu San was on the private rooftop terrace.

When they had first moved in, He Chu San had happily shown him this place. Back then, Xia Liu Yi had thought it shabby—old, rusted, nothing worth noting. But at some unknown time, the brat had refurbished it. Fresh paint, wooden railings, flower beds, a bar counter with stools, a canopy, and various small decorations had all been added. Lush green plants sprouted vibrantly around the space.

Several delicately crafted lamps sat atop the bar, casting a warm golden glow through their fabric shades. He Chu San leaned against the counter, dressed in a plain white shirt, his posture tall and straight, his profile refined and serene. It was a scene of quiet beauty.

Seeing this, Xia Liu Yi’s heart softened, his emotions rising beyond control. His face warmed faintly as he stepped forward, about to wrap his arms around the lonely figure he had neglected—

—only to realize that He Chu San was busy comparing stacks of data sheets under the light.

With a serious, focused expression, He Chu San flipped pages rapidly, calculating figures, murmuring to himself as he sketched trend lines.

Xia Liu Yi stared at him for a full five minutes.

He Chu San remained utterly absorbed, oblivious to his presence.

In the past, Xia Liu Yi would have snatched those papers and thrown them off the rooftop—Damn brat, once you start reading, you lose your soul! I’ve tolerated this for years! But tonight, his heart was stirred by spring. Even the sight of the brat working so earnestly was pleasing.

He pulled over a tall stool and sat beside him, leisurely admiring He Chu San’s determined diligence.

After nearly half an hour, He Chu San finally reached a satisfying conclusion. Flicking the papers, he broke into a triumphant smile, hopped off the stool, and turned to go downstairs to call a colleague—

Only to be startled half to death by a dark figure slumped beside him!

Steadying himself, he realized it was Xia Liu Yi—dressed all in black—leaning against the bar, head tilted, asleep with a furrowed brow and a faint trail of drool at the corner of his mouth.

Such a posture was utterly unbecoming of a boss’s dignity. He Chu San instinctively glanced around—no bodyguards in sight. Relieved, he wiped away the drool with his sleeve, then gently called, “Brother Liu Yi? Brother Liu Yi.”

Xia Liu Yi, sleeping comfortably, opened his eyes with great reluctance. Just as he recognized him, before he could speak—

His stomach let out a loud, unmistakable growl.

The two stared at each other.

He Chu San turned his head, unable to hold back. “Pfft.”

“What are you laughing at?! The hell are you laughing at?!”

“Ow—ow—no, I’m not laughing—haha—stop hitting me, stop! I’ll go heat the food!”

……

He Chu San steamed the fish and rice again, and stir-fried an additional dish. Xia Liu Yi, having barely eaten earlier, was ravenous—devouring the food voraciously.

He Chu San sat beside him, chin in hand, smiling as he watched.

“Brother Liu Yi, how about I make you dinner every day from now on?”

Xia Liu Yi paused mid-chew, swallowed with effort, and scoffed, “Quit the act. I know you’re busy—focus on your work first!”

He quickly picked up more food, then added indistinctly, “If you’ve got time on the weekend, come watch a movie with me.”

He Chu San’s eyes curved into crescents. “Alright.”

……

After the meal, He Chu San stood to clean up, but Xia Liu Yi stopped him.

For once, the great boss insisted on washing the dishes himself. Leaning against the kitchen doorway, He Chu San watched in surprise—though Xia Liu Yi would probably burn down a kitchen if he tried to cook, his dishwashing was unexpectedly skillful.

“What are you staring at?” Xia Liu Yi rotated a plate deftly. “When I was a kid, that bastard of a father of mine did nothing but take drugs, drink, and beat people—never cared if we lived or died. Sometimes neighbors would give us leftovers. Sometimes Xiao Man and I would pick rotten vegetables from the market. She cooked—I washed dishes. You know how expensive water was in Gaau Lung Walled City. We could go a month without bathing, but dishes had to be washed—or we’d get sick. With just a bit of water, I could clean them.”

He Chu San stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his waist. He too came from hardship, but compared to Xia Liu Yi’s past, his own struggles seemed mild. Resting his cheek against his shoulder, he said softly, “My best record was washing three bowls with one ladle of water.”

Xia Liu Yi snorted, showing him the shallow bowl of water in his hand. “With just this, I can wash two. No more—we only had two bowls at home. When that bastard ate, Xiao Man and I had to share one.”

He Chu San buried his face in the crook of his neck. “If only I had known you twenty years ago.”

“Hah! Back then you were just a wobbling little brat who could barely walk. What use would you have been?”

“When I was young, we couldn’t afford pork. During New Year, my father would make wontons stuffed with minced salted fish. If I’d known you, I would’ve carried a bowl over—wobbling and all—and shared it with you.”

A vivid image rose unbidden in Xia Liu Yi’s mind—of a tiny little bean sprout wobbling toward him, clutching a bowl of wontons, stumbling this way and that. He couldn’t help but laugh aloud several times. Turning around, he cupped He Chu San’s face in his damp hands.

The water from the tap continued to rush and chatter without pause. The two of them leaned against the sink, wrapped in each other’s arms, and kissed—long enough for an entire basin to fill and spill.

When the kiss finally broke, Xia Liu Yi lingered, still caressing the side of He Chu San’s face, tenderness brimming in his chest, nearly spilling over. Yet He Chu San suddenly frowned slightly.

“Why does your mouth smell like cigars?”

“Damn it! I just took a few puffs to keep up appearances while talking business! You know I hate cigars!”

“Cigars are still smoke. And these past few days, you’ve smoked seven cigarettes at home. I counted the butts.”

“Fuck! So what if I smoked? What the hell were you counting that for?!”

“Did you forget? One cigarette means one round of that. Eight now, Brother Liu Yi.”

“……”

Xia Liu Yi shot him a vicious glare, his face flushing red and dark by turns. After a long silence, he abruptly turned his head away, even his neck reddening.

“I… I’ll go take a shower first.”

“Pfft.”

“The hell are you laughing at?! What’s so funny?!”

“Pfft—hahaha, you’re too cute… stop hitting me, stop, stop! A spring night is short—I’ll wait for you in bed…”

Xia Liu Yi bathed with a burning face. When he came out, he awkwardly paced around the living room twice, then finally gritted his teeth and marched into the bedroom with forced composure—

—only to find that this damn brat had already stirred up all his feelings and then fallen asleep hugging his pillow!

He Chu San had long suffered from lack of sleep. Though he had nominally taken a day off today, he had actually worked the entire day at home and handled a pile of chores. Exhausted beyond endurance, he had collapsed onto the bed, clutching Xia Liu Yi’s pillow, breathing in his scent with a faint, unfulfilled longing—until he drifted off.

His complexion wasn’t great, with faint shadows beneath his eyes, yet his expression was peaceful and content, as if in his dreams he had already tangled with his beloved a hundred times over.

Seeing that tranquil sleeping face, Xia Liu Yi felt his heart soften once more into a tide of tenderness.

He Chu San had always been youthful and vibrant before him—though lacking somewhat in martial strength, he seemed to possess endless energy, spinning like a top without ever stopping. Though Xia Liu Yi was the elder, he had always been the one receiving care.

But when had he ever stopped, turned around, and cared for the one chasing after him?

That swelling tenderness turned into a quiet ache of guilt. Xia Liu Yi climbed onto the bed softly, gently tugged the pillow from He Chu San’s arms, and drew him into his embrace.

Though his movements were light, He Chu San still stirred awake, blinking drowsily as he tried to gather himself to continue their “spring night.”

Xia Liu Yi covered his eyes with a palm and said softly, “If you’re tired, sleep. Tomorrow’s fine—I’m not going anywhere.”

He Chu San’s lashes trembled beneath his hand, then slowly relaxed. He tightened his arms around Xia Liu Yi’s waist, eyes closed, and murmured:

“Brother Liu Yi, I really like you.”

“Mm, I know. Sleep.” Xia Liu Yi kissed his forehead.

“Let’s not fight anymore, okay? No more sulking either.”

“Alright.”

“I want to hold you like this and sleep every day.”

“Alright.”

“I…”

“Go to sleep already! Save the mushy stuff for tomorrow. Keep yapping and I’ll beat you!”

The two of them held each other close, clinging and entwined, and slept deeply through the night—a rare, peaceful rest.

The next morning, Xia Liu Yi woke to the sound of birdsong.

Turning his head, he saw He Chu San’s clear, handsome face. The rising morning light traced his features with a soft golden glow, gentle and radiant. Xia Liu Yi reached out and lightly rubbed his soft earlobe.

Feigning sleep, He Chu San opened his eyes and smiled, dark pupils gleaming like stars.

Leaning closer, he pecked Xia Liu Yi lightly on the lips and whispered, “Brother Liu Yi, want to ‘smoke’?”

Xia Liu Yi paused, then understood—and his face heated again.

“Mm.”

He Chu San’s eyes curved with a smile as he ducked beneath the blanket. Xia Liu Yi waited, face flushed, then suddenly shut his eyes and tilted his head back slightly, his throat trembling as a low, hoarse sound escaped him.

The autumn wind grew colder with each passing day.

The underlings stationed at Xiao Qi Hall headquarters shed their thin summer jackets and donned long black trench coats, each wearing a pair of sunglasses. Standing in a neat row at the company entrance, they looked uncannily like a blind choir troupe.

Ma Rulong, general manager of a branch company, had recently acquired a leopard-print fur-collared vest and a pair of diamond-studded sunglasses. Strutting with swagger and pride, he bustled into headquarters to report to his boss.

His Boss, meanwhile, had been enjoying a “cigarette” morning and night these past few days—indulging just enough, yet never quite satisfied. At the moment, Xia Liu Yi had his legs propped up on the desk, humming a tune while sucking on a lollipop.

The moment Xiao Ma stepped inside, he caught that unmistakable sweet, cloying scent of romance. Nearly knocked back two steps, he called out with a pained heart:

“Boss, I’m here…”

Xia Liu Yi jerked his chin toward the sofa, in excellent spirits. “Sit.”

“Boss… eating candy again?”

“You want one?”

“No no no!” Xiao Ma waved his hands frantically. Everyone knew—the boss’s lollipops were not to be coveted.

He chattered through a routine report and received instructions. At the end, he added:

“Boss, about that boxer you asked me to investigate—it’s all checked out.”

“What boxer?” Xia Liu Yi, half-dazed on sugar, took a moment.

“The one named Qin Hao.”

“Oh. Him. Go on.”

“He’s twenty-three, a Thai-Chinese. Parents divorced when he was young—his father came to Hong Kong, he stayed in Thailand with his mother. Learned martial arts from an old Thai master. Seven years ago, his mother died of illness. He came to Hong Kong to find his father… but his father had already remarried and had a daughter. Relations weren’t good. At twenty, he started running with the underworld under ‘Old Fifth’ of Temple Street. Later Old Fifth got wiped out by the police, so he fled back to Thailand.”

“Last year, his father and stepmother died in a car accident, leaving a mountain of debt—dumped onto his teenage half-sister. When he found out, he came back, paid everything off. But recently, his sister was diagnosed with congenital heart disease—needs surgery immediately…”

Xiao Ma spread his hands. “This guy’s a damn jinx. Killed his mom, his boss, his dad, his stepmom—now dragging down his sister too.”

Xia Liu Yi frowned. “Then? He’s fighting underground matches for her surgery?”

“Yeah.”

“What about prison?”

“He was working odd jobs at a factory in Tuen Mun. Refused to pay protection money, offended a manager under ‘Fat Monk.’ The guy came with men to deal with him—Qin Hao stabbed him. Didn’t kill him though. Normally, underworld matters stay underworld… but he got unlucky. A cop just happened to pass by and arrested him.”

“Fat Monk let that go?”

“Of course not. But first he latched onto you in prison, Boss. After release, he signed with MasterbQiao for his sister. First Xiao Qi Hall, then He Sheng Society—who dares provoke both?”

Xia Liu Yi slowly chewed his lollipop, thoughtful.

As expected—this Qin Hao might seem quiet, but he was sharp.

He finished the candy, wiped his mouth, and said calmly:

“Go find him. Whatever Master Qiao pays him, I’ll offer double. No death matches—give him a venue to manage. On top of that, I’ll cover all his sister’s medical and recovery costs. If he agrees, buy out his contract from Master Qiao.”

Xiao Ma smacked his lips, impressed—but couldn’t resist asking:

“…What if he refuses?”

“If he refuses, I’ll twist your damn head off! Can’t even handle this?!”

The ashtray flew—sending him scrambling out.

As Xiao Ma fled down the corridor, a realization struck him—

Big Scarhead had gone to prison, Pao Zai was sunk at sea, and the rest had been cleaned out by Cui Dong Dong…

Boss was short on manpower.

This Qin fellow wasn’t here to compete with He Chu San—

He was here to compete with him, Ma Ru Long!

Xiao Ma sighed under the autumn wind… then quickly cheered himself up.

“More help means less work for me… good deal.”

Brightening, he drove off to Lin Heung Tea House, packed sticky rice chicken, durian pastries, and wife cakes—

—and went home to feed his “Jade Guanyin.”

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