How did A’San and A’Liu meet?” Jade Guanyin asked Xiao Ma.
At the moment, she lay sprawled on the narrow bunk in the crew’s cabin, her upper body bare, exposing a broad expanse of snow-white back. Xiao Ma was changing the dressing on an old wound there.
“Forget it,” she said indifferently. “In a few days I’ll be under the knife again anyway. What’s the point of treating it now?”
“Shut up.” Xiao Ma smacked her on the backside.
This masochistic creature hummed in contentment, then persisted, “So how did they meet?”
“None of your damn business!” Xiao Ma snapped impatiently.
Unhappy with his tone, Jade Guanyin began to tease and provoke him. Xiao Ma quickly pinned her down. “Don’t move! I’m applying the medicine!”
“He used to be… brought in on orders from the Boss to do work,” he continued curtly. “Saved the Boss once, then clung to him after that.”
“He really is your ‘advisor’? The deputy steward of your Xiao Qi Hall?”
“Bullshit!” Xiao Ma snorted. “That brat doesn’t know a damn thing!”
“What about ‘Little Azure Dragon’?”
“The hell is ‘Little Azure Dragon’?” Xiao Ma bristled at the name.
Jade Guanyin tilted her chin toward the room where Qin Hao stayed. “How did ‘Little Azure Dragon’ meet A’Liu?”
“Damn it, his name is Qin Hao, stop calling him Azure Dragon,” Xiao Ma said. “That kid saved the Boss in prison.”
“And you?”
“What about me?” Xiao Ma slapped the gauze lightly onto her back, making her hum softly. “The Boss saved me!”
“The Boss was so damn handsome back then,” he recalled with admiration and intoxication. “Carrying two broadswords, descending from the sky—just hearing whoosh whoosh whoosh—”
Jade Guanyin’s giggling cut him off. “What are you laughing at?!”
“They both saved the Boss, but only you were saved by him. And every time you mention them, you get upset. Are you jealous of them?”
“Bullshit!” Xiao Ma’s face turned green.
“You, A’San, Qin Hao—you three are really like A’Liu’s harem.”
Xiao Ma slapped her again. “You’re full of crap! Who taught you Chinese?! If anything, you’re my harem!”
Jade Guanyin gave a soft whimper and rolled over, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Your Majesty, then you must dote on me properly.”
Xiao Ma flipped her back and gave her a fierce spanking, indulging her as she wished. Jade Guanyin bit down on the pillow, drenched in sweat, her breath ragged—Xiao Ma forbade her from making noise, lest the patrolling sailors outside hear.
On her, Xiao Ma showed no tenderness, driving into her with brute force, as though to shatter her, kneading and gripping her soft flesh like pliant dough. Pale and wheat-toned bodies tangled upon the cramped bunk, sweat shaking loose and soaking the thin mattress. Muscles bulged across Xiao Ma’s body, his face flushed red, the old scar upon it all the more ferocious.
“When this is over, where will you go?” he asked.
“Don’t know… mm…”
“You staying in Thailand?”
“Mm… impossible… they wouldn’t want me there…”
Xiao Ma thrust hard, forcing a gasp from her, and said domineeringly, “If you’ve got nowhere to go, then get your ass back to Hong Kong. Lord Ma will keep you!”
Jade Guanyin buried her face into the pillow, her body suddenly trembling, writhing like a fish on a chopping board. Xiao Ma knew she was nearing her peak, and his movements grew even more ruthless and rapid, as though filleting a fish, stirring violently within her. She was reduced to trembling softness in his grasp, swaying with his movements, breath coming in broken gasps, nearly losing all sense.
……
Several days later, at dusk, the cargo ship arrived at Bangkok Port. Golden Maitreya’s third son, “Manjusri,” had long been waiting there with a group of men. After conducting a thorough search of Xia Liu Yi and his party, he ushered them into a large van.
Like Jade Guanyin, Manjusri had been injected with an experimental feminizing drug in childhood. Jade Guanyin’s “cultivation” had been relatively successful, her figure developing striking curves, while Manjusri had become something like a eunuch—tall and gaunt, with narrow features and an effeminate bearing, his voice thin and peculiar.
Seated in the van, facing Jade Guanyin and Xia Liu Yi, he called her by her given name in Thai, his tone shrill, “Susin, godfather has been waiting a long time. A wandering child must return home.”
Turning to Xia Liu Yi, he added in a strange, insinuating tone, “Fifth Brother, the journey must have been tiring.”
Xia Liu Yi shook his hand. Those cold fingers slid into his palm like a snake, and Manjusri gave him a teasing wink. Xia Liu Yi responded with a perfunctory smile and withdrew his hand, turning his gaze out the window. Having often come to Bangkok, he immediately noticed—they were not heading toward the city.
“Has godfather changed locations again?” he asked casually.
Manjusri narrowed his eyes with a smile. “Fifth Brother, don’t ask too much. Knowing too much is bad for godfather—and for you.”
Xia Liu Yi smiled faintly and said no more, already stabbing him twice in his mind.
The van, flanked by two escort cars, gradually left behind the flickering lights of the city. From sunset into deep night, they had long since passed beyond Bangkok’s borders. The terrain grew increasingly remote and treacherous; under the moonlight, the mountain roads twisted and rose and fell endlessly. The deeper they went, the more guard posts appeared, with scattered armed men standing watch—ragged soldiers with guns and painted faces.
Xia Liu Yi knew this must be Golden Maitreya’s true stronghold. As Jade Guanyin had predicted, Golden Maitreya was under heavy scrutiny by Thai authorities and Interpol, forcing him to drag her back here to deal with her. That he allowed Xia Liu Yi into this inner sanctum meant one of two things: either he was satisfied with the “gift” and trusted him more—or he intended to kill him here and settle everything at once.
The convoy entered a mountain clearing used as a parking ground, where several military jeeps were stationed. A group awaited them. At the front stood two men.
One was short and powerfully built, with a sinister face, arms tattooed with a tiger and a leopard—Golden Maitreya’s eldest son, “Ksitigarbha.” The other was of average height, wearing glasses, so ordinary-looking he could vanish in any crowd, his right arm in a cast hanging from his neck—this was the second son, “Samantabhadra.”
Ksitigarbha had grown impatient, idly tossing a gleaming dagger in his hand. Samantabhadra stroked his cast thoughtfully, watching the blade. As the convoy approached, Ksitigarbha sheathed the dagger and strode forward aggressively.
A bodyguard jumped down from the passenger seat and opened the rear door. Jade Guanyin, hands cuffed behind her back, was shoved roughly out by Xiao Ma. She staggered, then steadied herself, lifting her head with a bright smile.
“Oh! Eldest Brother, Second Brother—you’re both back! Long time no see!”
“Of course, nothing is more important than the whole family being together,” she said in Cantonese, then burst into laughter at her own joke.
Amid so many people, only this single “captive” laughed like a madwoman, trembling with delight. Xiao Ma jumped down after her and smacked the back of her head.
“Idiot! Don’t block the way! Shut up!”
Grabbing her by the collar, he yanked her aside. Qin Hao followed, stepping down from the vehicle. The two of them took positions on either side and, with utmost respect, escorted their boss—
Xia Liu Yi—out of the car.
Ksitigarbha, having been disrupted by their commotion, lost much of the murderous aura he had just put on display. He shot Jade Guanyin a furious glare, then turned and gave Xia Liu Yi a curt nod in greeting. He and Samantabhadra had long roamed abroad on errands for Golden Maitreya, and had only met this nominal “brother” a handful of times—regarding him with no more feeling than they would a stray dog by the roadside.
Samantabhadra, however, walked straight up to Jade Guanyin, tilted his head as he looked at her—and suddenly swung his hand, striking her across the face!
She spat out a mouthful of blood, half her face flushed red, yet broke into laughter. “Second Brother, has your hand not healed yet?” Months ago, when she fled, Samantabhadra had been ordered to pursue her—she had broken the bones in his arm and slaughtered over a dozen of his men.
“Little Sistera,” Samantabhadra said coldly, gripping her chin, “I’m curious how godfather plans to let you die.”
Jade Guanyin giggled in his grasp like a cheerful hen. “Best if I die from pleasure.”
The Third Brother, Manjusri, was the last to step out of the vehicle. He glanced at his two brothers. “Where is godfather?”
……
Godfather was in the meditation chamber deep within the bamboo grove.
Xia Liu Yi and the other three “brothers” sat cross-legged in the outer hall of the chamber, sipping tea. Behind them stood four expressionless death-sworn guards bearing rifles, while Xiao Ma and Qin Hao were stopped outside the hall altogether.
Even from outside, one could faintly hear the unbroken stream of screams and gasps within the meditation chamber—already lasting for more than half an hour, nearly hoarse. Xiao Ma’s fists clenched, trembling, his teeth beginning to grind audibly. Qin Hao, face cold and eyes sharp, observed the movements within the hall; he quietly raised a hand and pressed down on Xiao Ma without a word.
As the sounds inside gradually weakened, Xia Liu Yi began to worry that Jade Guanyin might be toyed to death by Golden Maitreya. Casting a glance at the others, who seemed long accustomed to this, he spoke casually, as if making idle conversation.
“Godfather doing this in the meditation chamber—is he imitating the Blissful Buddha?”
“Impatient already?” Ksitigarbha sneered. “When godfather’s had his fill, he’ll naturally call you in.”
“If Fifth Brother is so eager, why not go in and find godfather yourself?” Manjusri said in his sharp, peculiar voice, making a gesture of invitation.
Samantabhadra remained expressionless, still rubbing his cast, ignoring them entirely.
Xia Liu Yi smiled. “Of course not. Brothers—have some tea.”
He straightened and poured tea for the three of them. It was English black tea; placed within this Chinese-style bamboo hall, it looked utterly out of place—just like Golden Maitreya’s twisted and bizarre tastes. A great drug lord, yet he gave himself a Buddhist title, built a meditation chamber, and within it indulged in depraved excess, as though seeking to cultivate himself into some monstrous Buddha: a vast belly to contain all wickedness beneath heaven, a bloodied mouth ever open to devour the virtuous of the world.
Before he finished pouring, Golden Maitreya called out from within in Thai. Manjusri chuckled and rose, issuing an order toward the hall’s exterior. Two of his men entered and followed him into the chamber. Not long after, he emerged again, dragging out a blood-soaked Jade Guanyin with their help.
She was naked, her body covered in whip marks; her lower half had been ravaged into ruin, filth and blood staining her pale thighs as they dragged along the ground, leaving a trail behind.
Her long hair hung in disarray over her face, her head drooping without response—life or death uncertain. Yet Xia Liu Yi had clearly heard Golden Maitreya’s earlier command: to take her to the torture chamber for interrogation. It seemed he had merely vented his desires for now, leaving her half-alive to force from her the whereabouts of the important information she had stolen.
Manjusri dragged the unconscious Jade Guanyin out past Xiao Ma and Qin Hao. Qin Hao once again quietly restrained Xiao Ma. This time, Xiao Ma no longer trembled—but his eyes were red as blood. He lowered his head in concealment, yet his gaze followed Manjusri’s departing figure, noting clearly the direction they took.
Golden Maitreya spoke again from within, this time summoning the other godsons. Xia Liu Yi shot Qin Hao a quick glance, then followed Ksitigarbha and Samantabhadra inside.
The meditation chamber was sparsely furnished: a Buddha shrine, a low table, and a single meditation cushion. The three incense sticks before the shrine had already burned to ash. On the table remained the impressions of a body and ambiguous fluids; beside it lay an array of blood-stained instruments.
The scent of incense mingled with sweat and blood into something almost unbearable, turning Xia Liu Yi’s stomach. Holding his breath, he turned his gaze toward Golden Maitreya—seated in a wheelchair by the table—and the two shadowed guards standing behind him.
“Godfather.” Xia Liu Yi brought his hands together in salute, bowing respectfully.
Golden Maitreya leaned back with his eyes closed, his face still flushed from recent exertion, beads of sweat clinging faintly. His voice was hoarse with fatigue. “You’ve come. Sit.”
Xia Liu Yi glanced around—there were no seats. Understanding, he knelt upon the cushion, posture as though paying homage to a great Buddha. Ksitigarbha and Samantabhadra stood behind him on either side like guardian deities.
“Xiao Liu has done well this time,” Golden Maitreya said without opening his eyes. “What reward do you want?”
“This is only what Xiao Liu should offer in filial devotion to Godfather,” Xia Liu Yi replied.
“Oh? No reward?” Golden Maitreya murmured, as if speaking in a dream. “Then I am curious. I sent six of my ‘Twelve Divine Generals’ to Hong Kong, along with over a dozen men. They have been out of contact for five days. Could it be you have taken them for yourself as a ‘reward’?”
“Godfather wrongs me,” Xia Liu Yi said calmly. “I only know Jade Guanyin killed two of them. As for the others, I know nothing. Perhaps they are still on the ship returning?”
Golden Maitreya let out a dry, wrinkled chuckle, finally opening his eyes. His smiling gaze, however, sent chills down the spine.
“Xiao Liu… I wonder, who gave you the courage to defy me? Who taught you to deceive me?”
Suddenly, his gaze flicked to Samantabhadra behind Xia Liu Yi. “Did you really think I didn’t know what you intended?”
Samantabhadra’s expression changed. His right hand suddenly tore free from the cast—yet before the concealed gun could be raised, Ksitigarbha, already prepared, kicked it away! In the next instant, he lunged forward, drawing a blade from his waist—steel flashed, and the dagger plunged into Samantabhadra’s abdomen!
At the same time, the two guards behind Golden Maitreya drew their guns, aiming at Xia Liu Yi as he moved to intervene.
Blood soaked Samantabhadra’s clothes as he groaned in pain, pinned firmly to the ground by Ksitigarbha. Xia Liu Yi, too, was forced back down to his knees.
Golden Maitreya wheeled himself forward. Ksitigarbha grabbed Samantabhadra by the hair, lifting his head, and Golden Maitreya struck him heavily across the face.
Gripping his pale face, he spoke in a gentle, almost fatherly tone. “Did you really think I didn’t know you faked your injury and deliberately let Xiao Yu escape? With your help, she stole my things. You even conspired with her, dragging Xiao Liu in as a cover to scheme against me. Samantabhadra… your wings have grown strong. Have you cultivated a golden body and now wish to replace your godfather as Buddha?”
Samantabhadra clenched his teeth and said nothing. He had always been like this—unremarkable in the crowd, all his thoughts buried deep within.
Golden Maitreya did not expect an answer. He patted his face kindly, then straightened and turned to Xia Liu Yi.
“Xiao Liu, you have always been obedient. Yet this time, you followed your brothers into mischief. It pains me greatly. What benefit is there in offending me?”
Held fast by the guards, Xia Liu Yi let out a cold laugh. “You were the one who had Azure Dragon killed.”
“Oh? Did I?” Golden Maitreya feigned surprise, then shook his head as if recalling. “Ah, I am old—my memory fails. Yes, that did happen. Xiao Yu told you? Naturally—only that would make you defy me. I remember you were very close to Azure Dragon. But you should thank me instead. If Azure Dragon had not died, how would you have become the boss?”
Xia Liu Yi struggled violently in fury, but was forced down, his face pressed against the ground in a humiliating posture.
“Godfather!” he roared hoarsely. “Xiao Liu may not escape death today—but at least let me die knowing the truth! Azure Dragon served you faithfully for so many years—why must he die?!”
“This matter does not concern you. Why cling to it so stubbornly?”
“Azure Dragon saved me and raised me. We were as true brothers! You claim to be a Bodhisattva—can you not grant even this shred of mercy?!” Xia Liu Yi said, then let out a bitter laugh. “Or perhaps knowing the reason will only make my death more painful.”
Golden Maitreya smiled benevolently. “Very well. Since you are my son, I shall show you a little ‘mercy.’”
He wheeled himself toward the Buddha shrine and drew out a photograph hidden behind it. Studying the three youthful faces upon it, he slowly returned and tossed it beside Xia Liu Yi’s face.
“Azure Dragon must die—because he discovered this photograph… and learned who killed his father.”
Futile Devices Scans 
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