All present felt as though monstrous waves had surged within their hearts. Needless to say, Ksitigarbha was shaken to the core. Xia Liu Yi, too, was struck with immense shock—he had been dragged into the feud between Golden Maitreya and Jade Guanyin, and it seemed he might never escape this dense forest alive.
But what of that mysterious black-and-white photograph? What of the informant who betrayed Golden Maitreya? What of the unresolved riddles and unavenged grudges surrounding Azure Dragon? And beyond all that—the great enterprise of Xiao Qi Hall awaiting his command, and He Chu San, still ignorant of everything, waiting for him at home—how could he allow himself to be captured here?!
As the other man present with a dual identity, Qin Hao was equally conflicted. He had no idea that Jade Guanyin was an informant for Interpol! Perhaps, fearing leaks, she had not informed the Hong Kong side in advance—otherwise, Xie Jia Hua would certainly have ordered him to assist her.
Before he came, Xie Jia Hua had instructed him to cast a long line to catch a big fish—to earn Xia Liu Yi’s trust, then wipe out Xiao Qi Hall in one sweep. If Xia Liu Yi were captured here prematurely because of Golden Maitreya’s case, then given his nature, he would likely shoulder all the blame alone. Back in Hong Kong, Cui Dong Dong remained; even without Golden Maitreya, there would always be others to collaborate with. As long as Xiao Qi Hall’s foundation remained, it could rise again from the ashes at any moment. What use would it be to capture Xia Liu Yi alone?
—Should he help Jade Guanyin arrest them, or act as a loyal guard and get Xia Liu Yi out alive?
As for Xiao Ma, he was no fool. Though his mind felt like it had been stuffed with incomprehensible chaos, he could still piece together the situation from everyone’s words and expressions. The “sister-in-law” he had just happily carried had suddenly become the target of all, the apparent cause of tonight’s catastrophe—and now she pointed her gun at them all, most importantly at his Boss. After twists upon twists, mantis stalking the cicada only for the oriole to lurk behind—his mind was in even greater turmoil than that jumbled nonsense in his head.
The roar of helicopters drew ever closer. The wind from their rotors whipped the treetops into a frenzy. Blinding beams of light cut through the forest, gunfire and searchlights converging in chaos. The police were closing in!
Driven into a corner, Ksitigarbha let out a feral roar and charged straight at the gun, tackling Jade Guanyin to the ground. Gunfire erupted—blood burst from his abdomen in a crimson spray. Jade Guanyin was pinned beneath him, unable to break free. He raised his dagger to stab down at her head—but Xiao Ma lunged in and seized his wrist!
With his other hand, Ksitigarbha struck Xiao Ma with a heavy blow. Seizing the moment, Jade Guanyin drove her knee into the wound in his abdomen. In an instant, the three were locked in a chaotic struggle!
Xiao Ma’s arms bulged with veins as he strained with all his strength to hold both Ksitigarbha and Jade Guanyin down. Turning his head, he roared at Xia Liu Yi and Qin Hao, “Boss! Go! Qin Hao—get Boss out of here!”
Xia Liu Yi ignored him completely and rushed forward to help—though he didn’t even know whom he should help, only that he must save Xiao Ma first. Yet Qin Hao caught him from behind, locking his arms and dragging him back.
“Let go of me!” Xia Liu Yi roared, struggling violently.
“Take Boss and go—!” Xiao Ma continued to shout.
At that moment, Ksitigarbha surged upward, throwing both Xiao Ma and Jade Guanyin off. The three scrambled up from the ground, ready to fight again—but suddenly Ksitigarbha bellowed and charged like a maddened bull, slamming into them and driving both toward the cliff beside the hidden passage—intent on dragging them all to their deaths!
“Xiao Ma—!”
With a hoarse cry, Xia Liu Yi broke free from Qin Hao and hurled himself toward the cliff without regard for his life. Qin Hao lunged after him and grabbed his leg! Xia Liu Yi caught Xiao Ma’s arm with one hand; Xiao Ma clutched Jade Guanyin; and Ksitigarbha held fast to her leg. The four of them hung over the cliff, supported only by Qin Hao above!
Suspended in midair, Ksitigarbha roared wildly, thrashing and trying to drag them all down with him. Xia Liu Yi watched as Xiao Ma’s grip slipped inch by inch and shouted in anguish, “Xiao Ma! Let go of them!”
Sweat poured from Xiao Ma’s brow. He glanced down at the nearly unconscious Jade Guanyin, then looked up at Xia Liu Yi and spoke with difficulty, “Boss… I’m sorry.”
“Let her go!” Xia Liu Yi shouted, drenched in sweat himself. He could feel Qin Hao above them losing strength, all of them inching downward. “She’s police! Let her go!”
Tears welled in Xiao Ma’s bloodshot eyes, falling one by one. “I’m sorry, Boss… it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have saved her back then… I didn’t know she’d come to harm you… I’m sorry…”
“Shut up!” Xia Liu Yi’s own eyes brimmed with tears. “Don’t say sorry! I don’t blame you! If you want to save her, then save her! I’ll pull you all up together!”
But it was impossible. Even maintaining their current position was beyond their limit—and even if they held on, they would only be captured together by the approaching police.
Xiao Ma shook his head in agony. “Boss… you have to escape. Boss Dong Dong is waiting for you. That He kid is waiting too… I never liked him, but if he makes you happy… I accept it. Boss… they say brothers share this life, but not the next…”
Summoning all his strength, he shouted,
“But Xia Liu Yi! Remember me—Ma Ru Long! In the next life… I still want you as my Boss!”
With a violent wrench, he tore himself free from Xia Liu Yi’s grasp.
A raw, agonized howl tore from Xia Liu Yi’s throat as he watched Xiao Ma’s figure vanish into the darkness of the mountains. His mind went blank.
Dimly, he felt himself being dragged back onto the cliff—Qin Hao pulling him up, shaking him while retreating. “The police are here! Move!”
In the distance came shouts demanding surrender. One of Ksitigarbha’s men fled toward the police, turning himself in and revealing the others’ location. Searchlights swept toward them; warning shots rang out.
Yes… I don’t even have time to grieve… Xia Liu Yi thought in a daze. Xiao Ma was right—I have to escape…
He snapped back to himself, grabbed Qin Hao, and together they staggered away from the exposed passage, sliding down the steep forested slope on the other side of the ridge.
Xia Liu Yi dragged Qin Hao through thorns and brambles, stumbling and tumbling downhill. The police opened fire when warnings failed—bullets tore past them, striking trees nearby. Xia Liu Yi ran, gasping violently, every swallow tasting of blood.
The forest was pitch-black; no moonlight could penetrate it. He had fled through danger countless times in his life—but this was the first time he truly felt fear.
He realized he might not escape. He might die here—struck by a stray bullet, or captured and executed in a Thai prison.
He had never feared death. He had once charged alone into certain doom, twin blades carving a bloody path to survival. They called him Blood Asura, said he came from hell, said he was cold-blooded, fearless.
So why now—why did his heart pound like thunder, his teeth tremble?
He had once thought life held no meaning—nothing worth clinging to but vengeance and duty. So why now did he feel the terror of death closing in, the despair of inescapable doom?
Suddenly, a heavy weight struck his back—Qin Hao had thrown himself over him, knocking him down. They crashed into the mud. Xia Liu Yi shoved him aside and saw blood blooming at his shoulder—Qin Hao had taken a bullet for him.
“Leave me… go…” Qin Hao said weakly.
Xia Liu Yi didn’t argue. He hauled him up onto his shoulder and staggered forward. Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath them—and the two tumbled, rolling uncontrollably down the mountainside…
…
In the dead of night, He Chu San jolted awake from a nightmare. The darkness was utterly silent, save for his breathing and the pounding of his heart.
He closed his eyes, but sleep would not return. Sitting up, he remained dazed for a while before rising to draw open the curtains and push the window wide. Moonlight wrapped around him; the night wind, tinged with the scent of the sea, rushed in and washed over his frayed nerves.
Shivering slightly, he hugged his shoulders and glanced at the mobile phone by the bed. Since Xia Liu Yi left, there had been no word—five days had passed without even a single call.
He sighed softly, rubbing his temples, forcing himself not to dwell on it. Moving to the living room, he switched on the bulky computer in the corner and began reviewing work data.
…
“Brother Liu Yi? Brother Liu Yi?”
“Wake up, time to eat.”
“It’s raining outside today—don’t go out. Let’s stay in and watch tapes together, alright?”
Xia Liu Yi stirred from the depths of darkness, He Chu San’s gentle voice still echoing in his ears. A faint smile tugged at his lips—then a sharp pain in his chest dragged him back to reality.
He opened his eyes. Mud slid down his blood-caked face; raindrops fell from the sky, clinging to his lashes like tears. His vision blurred. Darkness surrounded him, the roar of water filling his ears—he could not tell where or when he was.
Gasping, he shook his head and forced himself to look around. At last, he realized he was still in the forest. Rain poured relentlessly, soaking him through. Pain wracked his body—he raised an arm with difficulty, wiping mud from his face, regaining clarity.
He remembered crashing into a boulder before losing consciousness. His chest throbbed painfully; even breathing hurt—likely broken ribs. Struggling, he crawled to a nearby tree, dragged himself up with immense effort, and looked around.
Not far away lay a curled figure. He staggered over, checked Qin Hao’s breathing, and let out a sigh of relief. Slapping his face lightly, he roused him.
Qin Hao’s breathing was uneven, his gaze unfocused. Xia Liu Yi helped him up. Covered in mud, the two supported each other through the forest—but before long, Qin Hao collapsed again.
Unable to lift him further and unable to find direction in the dark rainforest, Xia Liu Yi dragged him to a small clearing. Gathering broken branches, he hastily built a crude shelter barely a square meter wide, draping their soaked coats over it to block the rain. With great effort, he shoved Qin Hao inside and squeezed in himself.
Two grown men crammed into the tiny space, unable to move, the shelter threatening to collapse. Xia Liu Yi suppressed his instinctive aversion to closeness and pulled Qin Hao into his arms, settling down in exhaustion—while thinking wryly that if He Chu San saw this, he’d probably be furious.
He truly had a physical aversion to unfamiliar contact—his circle was limited to He Chu San, Cui Dong Dong, and Xiao Ma, and even with the latter two, he barely tolerated casual closeness. Holding Qin Hao’s cold body, goosebumps rose on his arms—but he resisted the urge to shove him away. After all, Qin Hao had just saved his life again.
Qin Hao was burning with fever. Sensing Xia Liu Yi’s discomfort, he tried to shift away—nearly collapsing the shelter—only to be pulled back.
“Don’t move,” Xia Liu Yi said.
Qin Hao breathed weakly, consciousness fading. Xia Liu Yi shook him. “Don’t sleep.”
Afraid he might never wake again, he added, “Stay awake. Talk if you can.”
Qin Hao forced himself to respond. “Talk… about what?”
“……”
Xia Liuyi truly had nothing to say to him. After thinking for a long while, he had meant to ask why Qin Hao had blocked the bullet for him earlier—but before he could speak, the moment felt strangely familiar.
“Brother Liu Yi, you awake?”
“If you’re awake, don’t fall asleep again! Careful—you might sleep your way into death!”
“If you really want to sleep, then talk to me…”
It was from not long after he first met He Chu San, when they were fleeing pursuit from Xu Ying’s men. Back then, the still thin and slight He Chu San had carried him through the narrow alleys of Gaau Lung Walled City, running until he was out of breath, yet still forcing himself to keep Xia Liu Yi awake, gasping as he spoke to him.
The wound in his chest began to throb violently again. His throat tightened, words stuck fast, and he turned his head to glance at the endless rain streaming through the darkness.
“Is there someone you want to see right now?” he asked instead.
Qin Hao closed his eyes, then smiled faintly through a face smeared with blood. “There is.”
It was the first time Xia Liu Yi had ever seen him smile. This kid always wore a blank expression, as though the entire world had nothing to do with him—no emotion, no likes or dislikes.
“Your sister?” Xia Liuyi asked.
Qin Hao neither confirmed nor denied it. He slowly opened his eyes again and looked out toward the rain beyond the shelter.
“This… isn’t my worst time…” he said, dazed.
“My worst time… I had nothing. Not even a place to stay… I was tricked into underground boxing, had my leg broken, didn’t earn a cent, and still ended up buried in debt… I couldn’t afford treatment, so I went to a back-alley clinic. No anesthesia—they just forced the bone back into place, tied it up with a wooden stick, and called it done… At night I wandered the streets, stealing, picking through trash, opening car doors for people, washing cars. During the day I slept under bridges—even the homeless would drive me off…”
—Later, a triad “big brother” approached him, asking him to carry “goods.” He was underage and crippled, walking with a crutch—less likely to be searched by the police. Just to survive, he agreed.
“That’s when he appeared…”
—He stopped him from going down that dark path, arrested the ones who had used him.
“He gave me food, helped me find a place to stay, came to see me every day…”
—He made sure he was clothed and fed, taught him right from wrong, arranged for his schooling, tutored him… In the end, Qin Hao chose the same path, enrolling in the police academy.
“I don’t regret coming here. I don’t regret taking that bullet for you… You paid for my sister’s surgery—that’s my debt to you… But I don’t want to die. I want to live… to go back and see him…”
Xia Liuyi had assumed from beginning to end that he was talking about his half-sister. Thinking of Xiao Man, whom he had once depended on, he felt a quiet stirring in his chest. He gently patted Qin Hao’s arm in comfort.
Qin Hao could no longer hold his head up and had to lean against Xia Liu Yi’s shoulder, his voice weak. “What about you? The person you want to see… is it Mr. He?”
Xia Liu Yi almost admired how straightforward he was, though he didn’t bother to deny it—Qin Hao had already seen him and He Chu San embracing back at the village house. There was no hiding it.
He nodded and gave a soft “Mm.”
Qin Hao smiled faintly again. “The brothers all say… he’s a good man. Very smart…”
Xia Liu Yi laughed, thinking of that damn brat’s knack for winning people over. “What, did you go buy stocks too?”
“No… but I heard the others—anyone with money—bought in.”
Xia Liu Yi’s laughter tugged at his wound, forcing him to gasp in pain. The longing for He Chu San warmed his eyes. He fell silent.
Qin Hao felt the tremor in his chest and asked, “Is this your worst time?”
Xia Liuyi shook his head. “No.”
This was not his worst time. Not even when he was a child—starving, abused, stumbling along hand in hand with Xiao Man as they fled their damned father’s beatings—had that been his worst.
His worst time… was when he lost Xiao Man and Azure Dragon, lost the last of what tethered him to the world, left utterly alone. By day he was the Dragon Head Boss, surrounded by men, drowning in affairs—but beneath the noise lay nights as silent as a grave, a barren emptiness inside him. He could not sleep, had no direction, no reason left to live. Nothing but hatred kept him going.
Only now did it occur to him—was everything between him and He Chu San truly one-sided? Was it not because he himself had been trapped in that mire of loneliness and despair that he instinctively clung to the sliver of sunlight near him? Was it not he who kept dragging that clean, innocent student to his side, finding excuses to summon him—to play ball, eat, watch movies?
It was he who had pulled He Chu San into the mud. Yet it was He Chu San who had saved him.
And now he had left him.
Left that warmth from his dream, that home…
Where was he now?
In a foreign land, in a cold, rain-soaked forest at night. He had slain his enemies—but lost his brothers. Wounded, battered, on the brink of death.
He stared into the endless curtain of rain and let out a long breath.
…
Two weeks later.
At the headquarters of Xiao Qi Hall, inside a spotless executive office. Cui Dong Dong lounged in the boss’s chair, staring blankly at the night view of Victoria Harbour beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, its glittering lights reflected in her hollow eyes.
After a while, she reached for a photograph on the desk. It had been taken during a seaside barbecue—herself and Xiao Luo, the Boss and A’San, Scarhead, and Xiao Ma.
Her fingers traced Xiao Ma’s wide grin. Back when Xia Liu Yi took in that slick-tongued brat as a disciple, she and Xia Liu Yi were only twenty. The kid had been two years younger—big and tall, yet timid and cowardly. Seven years… and he had finally grown into a real man of iron…
Her breath caught. She turned her head, forcing back tears, wiping her eyes as she straightened her expression.
Her fingers slid to Xia Liu Yi’s face. He was smiling at the camera, brows slightly raised in smug satisfaction, secretly flashing a V-sign behind He Chu San’s head—as if staking his claim.
She sighed and flipped the photo face down.
Hurried footsteps and the sounds of guards trying to stop someone echoed from the hallway. She turned her chair just as He Chu San shoved the door open and strode in.
“Boss.” “Boss.” The guards followed awkwardly, clearly wanting to stop him but not daring to lay a hand on him.
“It’s fine. Leave.” Cui Dong Dong waved them off.
He Chu San walked straight to her desk and stopped across from her, towering over her with a cold, imposing presence she had never seen from him before.
“Where is he?” he demanded, anger tightly restrained.
“Didn’t I already tell you on the phone this morning?” she said lightly. “Why come all this way? You scared the boys outside half to death.”
“Why is his phone off? Why hasn’t he contacted me? Why are you sitting in his office?” he fired back, relentless.
“I told you—he’s in the countryside in Guangzhou!” she snapped. “Bad signal, can’t make calls! Why are you throwing a tantrum here? I’m the Deputy Hall Master—if the boss isn’t around, I sit wherever I damn well please. What’s it to you?”
They glared at each other. Then something ruthless flickered in He Chu San’s eyes.
“Sister Dong Dong, I know you and Brother Liu Yi are up to something behind the scenes. I don’t care what it is. I just want him safe. I want to hear his voice. I want to see him. Most of the company’s accounts pass through my hands. The brothers have entrusted me with their life savings. If you don’t tell me where he is, I can destroy Xiao Qi Hall in minutes.”
Cui Dong Dong stared at him, stunned—then laughed in fury, slamming her palm on the desk.
“Try it, Sammy boy,” she sneered. “Let’s see if you dare touch even a hair on Xiao Qi Hall! Think it through—when Liu Yi comes back and finds out what you’ve done, what do you think he’ll do to you? You dare?”
He Chu San’s breathing grew heavy. After a long, frozen moment, he turned and stormed out.
…
He drove home like a madman. Once inside, he swept everything in the living room onto the floor, then sat on the sofa clutching his head—only now realizing he, too, could lose control.
Nineteen days.
Since Xia Liu Yi left, he had not heard a single word. Not even one call.
He had said one or two weeks—now it was nearly three. And no matter how remote the countryside, there was no way he couldn’t find a phone.
Before, no matter how badly Xia Liu Yi avoided him, he could always find some way to learn of his situation.
But this time… he knew Xia Liu Yi had gone to meet a drug lord. And now—no contact for nineteen days.
How could he not panic?
He turned the shower to cold and let the water pour over his head—but what use was calm? He had no answers. No clues. No way forward.
Later, soaked, he stumbled back out, stripped, crawled into bed, burying himself in Xia Liu Yi’s scent—then dragged out his clothes, clutching them like a lifeline, and finally passed out in exhaustion.
Nightmares followed one after another.
In the dead of night, he jolted upright—just as the phone rang.
He scrambled to answer.
“Hello? Hello?!”
Then—
That familiar, long-awaited voice.
“Dummy. They say you’re smart, but I think you’re just stupid. Women hold grudges—don’t provoke your Sister Dong Dong.”
Xia Liu Yi’s tone was light, teasing—but there was no reply. After a moment, he heard choking sobs.
He Chu San broke into tears the moment he heard his voice.
“…Where are you?”
“Why are you crying?” Xia Liu Yi frowned. “What’s wrong with you? I’m calling you just fine, aren’t I?”
“Stop pretending! Your acting sucks!” He Chu San snapped, wiping his tears. “Where are you? What happened?”
“I’m in Guang—”
“Brother Liu Yi, do you think I’m stupid?!” he cut in. “I waited nineteen days! The number you’re calling from isn’t even Mainland China! Where are you? I want to see you—now!”
Then, cold and decisive:
“If you lie to me again, I’ll throw away the ring. We’re done. You’ll never see me again.”
“… ”
Silence.
Then Xia Liu Yi’s tired, helpless voice:
“Damn brat… what are you throwing a tantrum for? I’m really in the countryside. Fell on a mountain, got hurt. Didn’t contact you because I didn’t want you to worry.”
He Chu San’s voice trembled.
“Liar.”
He hung up.
And waited.
One minute later—
The phone rang again.
Futile Devices Scans 
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