Xia Liu Yi traveled beneath the stars, returning under the cover of night. As the elevator doors slid open, he stepped quickly into the dim corridor. Yet when he saw the faint light seeping through the crack beneath his door at the far end, something in him faltered—as though nearing home had stirred an unexpected hesitation. His steps slowed.
He waved his bodyguards away and leaned against the gray wall outside his door, lowering his head in thought. He wanted a cigarette, but knowing he would soon go inside to see He Chu San, he did not dare. Instead, he fidgeted restlessly with the wrapper of a lollipop.
Suddenly, the door opened from within. He Chu San looked at him and smiled. “Why aren’t you coming in?”
Xia Liu Yi tucked away the wrapper. “How did you know I was back?”
“I heard the elevator.”
Left with no excuse, Xia Liu Yi stepped inside. On the coffee table in the living room lay a stack of spread-out data reports, and the sofa bore a clear indentation. “You’ve been waiting here all night?”
He Chu San shut the door and wrapped his arms around him from behind, resting his chin on Xia Liu Yi’s shoulder. “Not that long. I just sobered up. I was going to sort out the documents, but I couldn’t focus at all. My mind was full of you. Every word in those reports turned into you—reading a page felt like flipping through an album of your portraits.”
Xia Liu Yi had long grown accustomed to his effortless torrents of sweet talk. Turning his head, he tugged lightly at He Chu San’s cheek and said gently, “I’m going to take a shower.”
He Chu San refused to let go, burying his face in Xia Liu Yi’s neck, nuzzling the familiar scent of sweat as he murmured clingingly, “You’re not leaving again this time, right?”
Xia Liu Yi’s gaze softened. He did not answer, only leaned in to kiss his lips before repeating, “I’m going to take a shower.”
In the bathroom, he washed himself thoroughly, scrubbing away the sweat and the faint but inescapable scent of blood. He Chu San must have caught a trace of it earlier, yet he had asked nothing—no doubt that precise, intricate mind of his was already whirring away like interlocking gears. As Xia Liu Yi washed, he found himself amused, feeling like some old master constantly suspected by his principal wife of sneaking out for illicit pleasures.
But the smile faded into a sigh.
He realized how much he had changed over the years. Before He Chu San, that old ruthlessness of “talk less nonsense—if you don’t like it, get lost” had long since vanished. Now he found himself cautious, restrained, always holding back. He Chu San had become his weakness—and what was worse, he had no intention of ever cutting that weakness away.
He wondered why He Chu San had not followed him into the bathroom to cling to him for a shared bath. Only after stepping out did he discover the reason—
All the lights in the house had been turned off. Two rows of flickering red candles formed a path from the bathroom door all the way to the bedroom. Inside, candlelight swayed gently, warm and tender.
He Chu San sat at the bedside, dressed in the white shirt Xia Liu Yi liked most, waiting in the shifting glow—clearly intending to turn this proposal night straight into a wedding night.
Unexpectedly, Xia Liu Yi let out a laugh from outside and called out roughly, “What is this, filming a ghost movie? You want me walking the Yellow Springs Road?”
“Peh, peh, peh,” He Chu San complained helplessly at his utter lack of atmosphere. “Brother Liu Yi, can you be a little romantic?”
“That’s little girls’ romance,” Xia Liu Yi said. Wrapped in a bath towel, he strode in with damp slippers, his bold steps extinguishing several candles along the way. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the bedroom doorway and grinned. “When we’ve got time, I’ll take you surfing in Hawaii, riding horses on the steppe—then you’ll know what a man’s romance is.”
He Chu San felt this had nothing to do with gender—he had seen plenty of girls surfing skillfully by the sea, and surely there was no shortage of women among those who rode horses on the grasslands. Besides, he considered this his own kind of romance—a gay man’s romance. Unfortunately, the other man in the room seemed forever immune to such sentiment.
With a sigh, he simply leaned back and got straight to the point. “Boss, forget about a man’s romance. The spring night is short—hurry up and come sleep with your man.”
Xia Liu Yi let out a low chuckle. With a long stride, he mounted the bed, straddling him, tearing open the white shirt in one swift motion. Pinning his wrists above his head, he descended like a hungry tiger, claiming his lips in a fierce kiss.
He Chu San struggled for breath as he reached beneath the towel—there was nothing underneath. Already prepared beforehand, everything was warm and ready.
His breathing grew more hurried, more eager, as his fingers moved, seeking out the places that drew the strongest reactions. Xia Liu Yi broke from his lips, burying his face beside his head, letting out low, satisfied breaths.
“How troublesome, Boss,” He Chu San murmured. “You’re this needy… what if I can’t satisfy you?”
“If you can’t…” Xia Liu Yi panted softly, turning his head to bite at his ear. “…then get lost. I’ll find someone else to serve me.”
He Chu San’s movements slowed slightly. Hearing the wet sounds between them, he frowned and asked, “Who would you switch to? Xiao Ma? Qin Hao?”
“Damn it, shut up—don’t mention them,” Xia Liu Yi snapped, covering his mouth. “That’s disgusting. You’re going to make me lose it.”
He Chu San chuckled softly against his palm. His other hand moved lower, grasping him, teasing him back to firmness.
For Xia Liu Yi, only he could draw out such a response.
He Chu San almost wished he could write those words in bold calligraphy, mount them, and hang them at the entrance of the He Sheng Society headquarters—or inscribe them on a folding fan and smack Qin Hao across the face with it.
Working deftly together, the two quickly stripped off He Chu San’s trousers. He grasped Xia Liu Yi’s waist, guiding him to align and slowly sink down onto him. The instant they fully joined, both let out a low sigh.
Pressed tight by Xia Liu Yi’s warmth, He Chu San’s eyes flushed red. He forced himself to steady his breathing, restraining the urge to move too quickly, while cupping Xia Liu Yi’s face with gentle hands, caressing him tenderly.
“Brother Liu Yi…” he murmured, instinctively wanting to say something more—some sweet confession from the heart.
“Why are you dawdling? Move already,” Xia Liu Yi snapped impatiently from atop him. His body, only half-accustomed, ached with a restless emptiness.
“…Fine.”
What use is romance with a man who cleaves people like melons? He Chu San cast aside his hesitation. Gripping him firmly, he thrust upward in one decisive motion.
At the head of the bed, the coconut-shell doll bobbed wildly, its tiny stick clattering in rhythm with the creaking bedframe. The sounds in the room rose and fell without pause. Xia Liu Yi was never one for restraint—once his final defenses were broken, body and mind fully claimed, all his pride and aloofness cast aside, he could unleash a storm as vast as the sea.
Seated astride He Chu San’s increasingly solid frame, his long legs trembled as he moved, rising and falling in a glistening rhythm.
His voice, unrestrained, came in sharp, uneven breaths as he clutched at He Chu San’s sweat-damp chest and taut waistline, riding the relentless motion without a trace of reserve.
In his eyes, He Chu San had already grown into a true man—clear-browed, broad-shouldered, with arms strong and steady around his waist. As the surging waves of sensation overtook him, Xia Liu Yi could not help but recall the first time they met—when this same boy had been all thin limbs and awkward youth. The memory made him laugh softly—over the years, this brat had truly forced himself to grow.
A trace of warmth welled in his heart. His gaze softened further as he leaned down, taking the initiative to kiss He Chu San again. His fingers traced over his brows, eyes, nose, lips—only now did he realize how strikingly handsome He Chu San was.
It was not that he had ever thought him ugly—only that he had never cared much for appearances. Strength or weakness, perhaps—but beauty or ugliness had never held meaning for him.
Under that intent gaze, He Chu San’s cheeks flushed. His movements slowed, and he brushed a light kiss at Xia Liu Yi’s lips. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” Xia Liu Yi said. “Just thinking—you’re quite the handsome young man.”
He Chu San smiled, shy and a little bewildered. “Really? That’s the first time anyone’s said that to me.”
“How is that possible?” Xia Liu Yi tugged lightly at his cheek. “With that face of yours, no girls ever chased you?”
He Chu San shook his head. “Back in secondary school, they all thought I was skinny and strange. All I did was study—boring. Behind my back, they called me ‘Monkey San’.”
Xia Liu Yi cursed softly, a hint of anger in his voice. “So that’s why you turned to men?”
He Chu San shook his head again. “The boys were worse. They cursed me even more, beat me, stole from me.”
Xia Liu Yi frowned. “Where are those bastards now?”
He Chu San laughed. “No need for you to avenge me. Later, I became class monitor. The principal and discipline master liked me, so no one dared bully me anymore. I tutored them, helped sign off their fake sick notes—they started treating me like a friend. They’d even bring me snacks and comic books. But still, no one chased me.”
“And in university?”
A deeper flush spread across He Chu San’s face. “In university… I fell for you.”
His entire heart had been given to Xia Liu Yi—how could he have noticed anyone else?
Xia Liu Yi’s handsome face warmed. He leaned in and kissed him again. They lingered in that kiss for a long while, until Xia Liu Yi, feeling him still burning within, shifted restlessly, his body aching with need.
“Keep moving,” he muttered hoarsely.
“Hm?” He Chu San was still dazed from the kiss.
Leaning close to his ear, Xia Liu Yi let out a low, breathy whisper. “Handsome young man… keep going.”
The rhythm surged again, fiercer than before. Xia Liu Yi’s voice broke into long, trembling sounds, almost like quiet sobbing. The force of it echoed through the room, relentless and unrestrained.
His body responded instinctively, heat building without pause. Sensing the difference, He Chu San tightened his hold, asking in a low voice, “Does your handsome young man make you feel good, Brother Liu Yi?”
“Good… ah… faster…”
Suddenly, He Chu San stopped.
Xia Liu Yi, still caught in the momentum, gasped, opening his eyes in confusion. But before he could speak, He Chu San shifted, flipping him beneath, pressing him down as he resumed with deeper, stronger force.
The rhythm intensified. Xia Liu Yi’s voice grew hoarse, his gaze unfocused as he clutched at the sheets, overwhelmed.
He Chu San, seeing him like this, let out a wicked chuckle, catching his hand before he could steady himself, forcing him instead to feel the connection between them.
“Brother Liu Yi… feel it. Inside—you’ve taken my shape.”
Xia Liu Yi let out a strained breath, half anger, half shame, yet too breathless to retort.
The sensation built to its peak, teetering on the edge, until—
“Damn brat…” Xia Liu Yi gasped, voice trembling.
In that instant, everything broke loose.
The aftermath left him trembling, clinging tightly, his body still shuddering as the waves slowly ebbed.
He Chu San, startled by his reaction, called out anxiously, brushing his flushed face. “Brother Liu Yi? Are you alright?”
Xia Liu Yi did not answer at first, only breathing weakly, eyes closed. When He Chu San tried to move, he reacted sharply, his body still sensitive.
Panicking slightly, He Chu San called his name again and again.
At last, Xia Liu Yi let out a faint hum, swallowing, his voice low. “Mm… I’m fine…”
Color slowly returned to his senses. He loosened his grip.
“I’m sorry,” He Chu San said, remorseful. “I won’t do that again.”
Xia Liu Yi opened his eyes, still dazed, the corners damp. He pulled He Chu San down, lightly brushing their noses together.
“Fool… I’m not hurt. It felt good.”
Relief flooded He Chu San. He kissed him again, about to withdraw—but Xia Liu Yi held him in place.
“Don’t move. Stay like this… rest a bit.”
They remained entwined, holding each other. Xia Liu Yi rested his forehead against his shoulder, voice hoarse. “After a bit… I still want more.”
He Chu San turned his head, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Alright.”
After resting for a while, they came together once more.
This time, Xia Liu Yi braced himself against the headboard, yielding fully, letting He Chu San take him from behind. The position left him completely at his mercy—yet he had no desire to escape.
He leaned back against He Chu San, breathing freely, his voice unrestrained, as if every part of him had been thoroughly claimed.
He demanded again, voice trembling, that He Chu San not hold back.
The candlelight had long since burned out. Moonlight seeped through the window, illuminating the scattered wax like pools of blood across the floor.
Later, He Chu San sat against the headboard, while Xia Liu Yi rested in his arms, half-asleep, legs still trembling faintly.
After a moment, he stirred.
“Again?” he asked hoarsely, eyes still closed.
“I’ll help you settle it,” He Chu San said softly, his fingers moving with care. “We can’t continue—you’re already swollen.”
Xia Liu Yi still wanted more—he had no desire at all for He Chu San to leave his body. Yet he dared not show it too clearly. He feared that He Chu San would see through him—see the emotions he carried tonight, the reluctance, the lingering attachment.
Though, truth be told, he suspected He Chu San already had.
He often felt transparent before him—no matter how he concealed himself, this brat could always sense it. Yet when he looked at He Chu San, it was like gazing upon a mountain shrouded in mist.
—Forget it. To hell with it.
He turned his head boldly, kissing He Chu San’s neck, shifting in his arms—and felt, with satisfaction, the unmistakable response.
But suddenly, He Chu San wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him still. With a wry smile, he said, “Brother Liu Yi, don’t move. You’ve been too intense tonight—I can barely keep up. I admit defeat.”
Xia Liu Yi’s face flushed. Before he could respond, He Chu San showed him what he had just drawn out, teasing, “Look at you—you’ve really gone wild.”
“Damn it!”
“Haha—ah! Okay, okay, that hurts—don’t hit me! I’ll carry you to the bath—”
And true to his word, He Chu San actually lifted him. Standing by the bed, he braced himself, steadying his stance, and hoisted Xia Liu Yi into his arms in one smooth motion.
Xia Liu Yi immediately recalled the disastrous “princess carry” from their first night in this apartment and instinctively wrapped his arms tightly around He Chu San’s neck. Fortunately, this time He Chu San held firm, teeth clenched, steps steady, managing to carry him safely all the way into the bathroom.
—Only to lean against the wall afterward, panting heavily, clutching his waist.
Seeing his breathless state, Xia Liu Yi laughed and teased, “Next time, want me to carry you instead?”
He Chu San shook his head reflexively—then, after a pause, nodded expectantly, only to be met with a splash of water to the face.
The two stood barefoot on the concrete floor, washing up together, bodies still warm and close. Xia Liu Yi tried to stir trouble again, only to be firmly stopped.
“We really can’t anymore,” He Chu San said with surprising restraint. “You’re already inflamed. I’ve heard some people even get fevers or stomach issues after this.”
“Since when is your Brother Liu Yi that weak?” Xia Liu Yi splashed water back at him.
He Chu San laughed, pulling him into an embrace. “The days ahead are still long.”
At those words, something flickered briefly in Xia Liu Yi’s heart—something uncertain, fleeting.
Then he smiled, leaned in, and kissed him.
“…Mm.”
Futile Devices Scans 
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