“I saw him fall with my own eyes—I couldn’t hold on to him… Xiao Ma is gone…”
The pain in He Chu San’s heart far outweighed his shock. His chest ached with a dull, suffocating soreness as he pulled Xia Liu Yi into his arms. Xia Liu Yi buried his face into his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably, utterly broken.
His best brother was dead. The Xiao Ma who always trailed after him, grinning, flattering, cracking jokes—dead. He had thought himself resilient enough, strong enough. He had believed he had long grown numb to partings of life and death. But the moment he saw the tears pooling in his palm, he understood his own weakness.
He was no indifferent “Blood Asura” forged in storms of bloodshed—he was only human. He could laugh, he could cry; he could grieve, he could fear.
As he wept, he clung desperately to He Chu San—the last warmth left in his life, the one thing he could not afford to lose. He Chu San gently stroked his back and shoulders, pressing soft kisses against his tear-dampened hair, staying with him in quiet, tender silence.
…
The night had deepened.
He Chu San drove them back along the mountain road toward the small temple. Xia Liu Yi sat in the passenger seat, eyes faintly red, staring blankly ahead without a word.
He Chu San did not ask about Xiao Ma’s death. Aside from comforting him, he said nothing more. He knew Xia Liu Yi needed only his embrace—any further questioning would merely carve new wounds into an already battered heart.
But his own heart felt as though it had been split open by a blade.
Xiao Ma was dead. Qin Hao was gravely injured. Xia Liu Yi himself was badly hurt. And there was Xiao Yu—whose name no one dared mention.
He could almost piece together the shape of it: a brutal bloodbath. A battle fierce enough to drag Xia Liu Yi away from him, even after they had just pledged themselves to each other. A battle that had taken Xiao Ma’s life.
Why?
For money? For power?
No. Never.
He knew Xia Liu Yi too well. He was not a man blinded by greed, nor one who would pay such a cruel price for a mere deal with drug lords.
His thoughts drifted—Qin Hao’s face, uncannily similar to Azure Dragon’s… that night Xia Liu Yi left after a single phone call… the sudden combat training back at the village house… Xiao Yu appearing openly in Hong Kong despite his sensitive identity… the strange, ambiguous reaction when Xiao Yu saw the photos of Azure Dragon and Xiao Man in the villa…
Fragments of clues formed a broken puzzle. Though incomplete, they pointed toward a chilling conclusion.
Even without evidence—his instincts alone told him:
Not for money. Not for power.
For love. For vengeance.
Only one person—only one reason—could drive Xia Liu Yi to such recklessness, such disregard for cost or consequence.
—For Azure Dragon.
He Chu San’s eyes stung. He turned his head to glance at Xia Liu Yi, forcing down the storm of emotions in his chest before quietly returning his gaze to the road ahead.
…
The backyard had already been cleaned spotless by the diligent monks. Aside from a faint trace of alcohol in the air, no sign remained of the earlier chaos.
He Chu San helped Xia Liu Yi back to his small room, assisted him in undressing, wiped him down with a warm towel, and replaced his medicine and bandages. Just as he was about to return to his own quarters, Xia Liu Yi suddenly reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt.
“What is it?”
“…”
Xia Liu Yi said nothing, only stared at the hand clutching his shirt.
He Chu San pulled over a stool and sat beside the bed. “I’ll stay here with you. I’ll leave after you fall asleep—”
The word “leave” was cut short as Xia Liu Yi yanked him forward. He fell onto him, forced to climb onto the bed, still muttering in concern, “The bed’s too small—I might press on your wounds—mmph.”
Xia Liu Yi clapped a hand over his mouth.
He Chu San smiled helplessly against his palm, thinking he resembled a domesticated big cat—clingy once tamed. Of course, that was something he would never dare say aloud.
After quickly removing his shirt and trousers, he adjusted himself carefully so as not to aggravate the injuries, then pulled Xia Liu Yi into his arms. The two of them lay pressed together on the narrow, old iron bed, falling asleep like that.
…
Xia Liu Yi dreamed.
He dreamed of Xiao Ma—running through the forest, agile and unburdened. He did not fall. He escaped. Good.
He dreamed of Xiao Man—sitting among fields of baby’s breath flowers, singing as she braided her hair, carefree like a child untouched by the world.
Then he saw Azure Dragon.
Azure Dragon sat alone on the villa balcony beneath the moonlight, silently smoking. His profile was calm, composed. The younger Xia Liu Yi approached with a camera to sneak a photo, only to be caught.
Azure Dragon turned, cigarette between his fingers, and smiled—a smile tinged with indulgence and faint helplessness.
But Xia Liu Yi could not smile.
He saw the blood soaking Azure Dragon’s abdomen. Saw the twin Qinglong blades driven deep into his body. Blood seeped from his lips, staining that faint smile.
Countless ghostly hands emerged from the void, dragging Azure Dragon downward. Xia Liu Yi roared, trying to chase after him—but no sound came from his throat. His body refused to move, frozen in place.
His chest burned, breath failing him. He collapsed like rotten wood, silently howling, struggling in vain…
He jolted awake.
In the darkness, only his ragged breathing could be heard. After several gasps, he realized he was buried against He Chu San’s chest, sweat soaking through the other man’s clothes.
Lifting his head awkwardly, he found He Chu San already awake, watching him.
He Chu San wiped the sweat from his forehead. “A nightmare?”
Xia Liu Yi’s breathing had yet to steady. Grief and fear still clung to him like damp night air. He grabbed He Chu San’s hand, pressed it to his lips, kissing the ring on his finger, then leaned forward to kiss his furrowed brow.
Their fingers intertwined. He Chu San turned, pressing him down beneath him, looking down quietly.
His gaze was calm, yet laced with sorrow. After a moment, he lowered his head and kissed him gently.
Xia Liu Yi responded urgently, almost anxiously. Their kisses deepened, bodies shifting, seeking warmth in each other. Desire stirred quickly in Xia Liu Yi; his hand drifted downward, instinctively seeking to bring them together—
But he touched only softness—He A’Si unmoving.
He looked up, puzzled.
He Chu San gave a faint, tired smile. “Too tired today… I’ll take care of you.”
He lowered himself beneath the covers.
Xia Liu Yi closed his eyes, lost in sensation, letting out a soft sigh as he raised an arm to cover his face.
…
Day by day, Xia Liu Yi recovered.
In the mornings, he could sit in the courtyard and watch He Chu San practice Taiji. By midday, he had the strength to walk with him through the fields. After meals, he could even squat by the water bucket to help wash dishes.
A’Nan, ever earnest, once tried to help—only to be yanked away by A’Mao, who hissed, “Can’t you see Boss and Sister-in-law are showing off their love?!”
…
One afternoon, He Chu San drove Xia Liu Yi into the city market to buy daily necessities. On the way back, he stopped at a roadside stall, buying two bottles of unknown green soda, along with a map of Thailand and a map of Bangkok.
“Where do you want to go?” Xia Liu Yi asked, opening his drink. “I know Bangkok well.”
“When you’re better, how about we travel around Thailand a bit?” He Chu San flipped excitedly through the recommended routes. “We haven’t even gone on our honeymoon yet.”
Xia Liu Yi spat out a mouthful of green soda, coughing violently. “Cough—what honeymoon?!”
“Honeymoon.”
“Did I marry you?” Wasn’t that just a proposal?!
“A proposal counts as marriage.”
“…”
Changing rings in a dingy storage room in a rundown restaurant—and sneaking in two rounds like an affair—that counts as marriage?!
Seeing the disgust on Xia Liu Yi’s face, Actor He immediately wilted, lips trembling as he launched into a performance, “Don’t tell me you don’t want to marry me—”
Xia Liu Yi promptly shoved the soda bottle into his mouth, cutting him off. “Enough! Pick a place! I’ll go on your honeymoon with you!”
…
In that chaotic night deep in the mountains, all those who knew Xia Liu Yi’s identity and appearance—the Golden Maitreya father and sons, along with their close subordinates—had been completely wiped out. For reasons unknown, Jade Guanyin made no mention whatsoever of Xia Liu Yi in the intelligence she provided to Interpol before the operation. Amid the darkness and confusion, the pursuing officers had only caught sight of the backs of him and Qin Hao.
Thus, after evading the police manhunt and hospital inspections of the wounded, Xia Liu Yi swaggered back onto the streets, once again a clean-background overseas tourist.
A few days later, he and He Chu San packed their belongings, dumped Qin Hao, the doctor, and all the bodyguards at the small temple, and the two of them drove off in a single car—eloping. No—setting off on their honeymoon.
They traveled eastward from Nakhon Pathom back to Bangkok, wandering through the glittering royal palaces, paying respects before the solemn Reclining Buddha, riding elephants, getting massages, drinking freshly squeezed juices by the roadside, and feasting on sweet-and-salty mango sticky rice, ferocious-looking grilled lobsters, rows of neatly skewered grilled bananas like a “wipe-the-whole-family-out”, glistening roasted pig trotters, honey-glazed meat skewers, crisp and refreshing rose apples, and the famously “fragrant” durian in every imaginable form—fresh durian, durian ice cream, durian candy, durian cakes, durian porridge, even grilled durian—until both of them smelled like durian from head to toe. At night, they lingered in bars, listening to singers hum unfamiliar tunes…
After a few days, they left Bangkok and headed north, first visiting the ruined city of Ayutthaya, filled with broken walls and ancient remnants. Passing through Sing Buri and Sukhothai, they lingered along the way before reaching the northern town of Chiang Mai, indulging in endless eating, drinking, and sightseeing. They stayed there several more days, resting and recuperating in its tranquil charm. Then they returned south to Bangkok, and from there traveled eastward to the seaside city of Pattaya.
After more than ten days of traveling, Xia Liu Yi had tanned noticeably, his face filling out again, the pallor and gauntness gone. No longer the frail beauty leaning weakly against a bed, he now strode about daily in sunglasses, a sleeveless shirt, and shorts—his strong, bronzed shoulders, chest, and long legs on full display, along with a well-defined figure that turned heads wherever he went. His fluent Thai, even better than some locals, paired with his roguish charm, drew the attention of many young women along the streets.
The Thai girls, petite and sweet-faced with rosy cheeks and shy smiles, would sneak glances at him, which made He Chu San’s heart leap in alarm again and again. He almost wanted to throw a sack over Xia Liu Yi’s head and haul him straight back to the hotel.
He Chu San had booked a standalone seaside villa in Pattaya—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the blue ocean, with a private pool in the backyard. His plan was to keep the Boss tucked away like a hidden treasure and spend a few indulgent days together.
But Xia Liu Yi found the private pool too dull. Having just removed his bandages and regained mobility, he eagerly insisted on heading out to the sea. He Chu San, poor at swimming and even worse at balance, went diving with him on the first day, only to step on coral and cut his foot. By the time he got ashore, it was already swollen and inflamed. The next day, he could only sit on the beach under a large umbrella, gingerly applying sunscreen while watching Xia Liu Yi surf and play in the waves.
Nearby, several fair-skinned, well-endowed Western women pointed at Xia Liu Yi, laughing and praising him. He Chu San watched, sour to the core, thinking that Xia Liu Yi had gone from making waves in Hong Kong to stirring up the Gulf of Thailand—if he went to Hawaii next, he might conquer the entire Pacific.
That evening, He Chu San wanted to order a seafood feast at the villa, open a bottle of red wine, light candles—something romantic.
Xia Liu Yi, however, dragged him to a bustling night market instead, where they ordered a massive spread of shrimp, crab, clams, and fish, along with tom yum soup and pineapple seafood fried rice amid the noise and lively music.
“What romance?” Xia Liu Yi scoffed, hands greasy as he cracked open a curry crab and sucked his fingers. “That villa feels empty and creepy. This is better—lively!”
“Oh right—come, come, I’ll give you something ‘romantic.’”
He wiped his hands carelessly, rummaged through his backpack, and triumphantly produced a white candle shaped like a penis. With a click, he lit it and planted it in front of He Chu San.
“Romantic or not? Durian-scented!”
“….” He Chu San.
Xia Liu Yi then proudly pulled out a yellow soap of the same shape. “And this—mango-scented! We’ll use it tonight!”
“….” He Chu San could only imagine returning home, kneeling before his father, and weeping: Your son has failed—you gained what kind of daughter-in-law?!
After eating their fill, they strolled side by side along the beach road to digest. Ahead, a crowd gathered around a cabaret show about to begin. He Chu San asked if Xia Liu Yi wanted to watch.
Xia Liu Yi immediately shook his head. The mention reminded him of Jade Guanyin—and then of Xiao Ma. A sharp pain pierced his chest.
Sensing his mood, He Chu San quickly changed the subject. “How about we get a tattoo over there?”
Xia Liu Yi glanced over—a small roadside shop offering temporary tattoos.
“That’s just painted on,” he said. “Girls like that.”
“Exactly—painted on,” He Chu San said, pushing him along. “If I got a real tattoo, my dad would break my legs.”
“Your dad raised you like a daughter,” Xia Liu Yi mocked. “Let go of me—I’m not going.”
“Let’s get matching couple tattoos.”
“I said no! Let go!”
…
Five minutes later, Boss Xia sat inside the shop, utterly lifeless.
Two teenage girls were also there, having delicate floral patterns painted on their wrists and ankles, casting curious and amused glances at them. Xia Liu Yi’s face turned green, while He Chu San eagerly flipped through design books.
“Look! Plenty of men get these too—sun patterns, pyramids, lotus flowers… I want an elephant.”
“I’m warning you—you might get an allergic reaction,” Xia Liu Yi said. “Some people swell up badly.”
“I’m not ‘some people.’”
“Your dad raised you like a daughter.”
“Say that again and I’ll kiss you right here.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
After bickering, they chose their designs: He Chu San wanted a gentle elephant head on his arm; Xia Liu Yi boldly chose a fierce tiger on his back.
As He Chu San’s tattoo was being painted, he glanced over at Xia Liu Yi lying relaxed and defenseless, flipping through a magazine. Quietly, he beckoned the artist over and whispered in English—offering triple the price to replace the tiger with a tabby cat.
An hour later, his scheme succeeded.
Under He Chu San’s eloquent defense and desperate protection, the artist barely survived. The culprit, meanwhile, was beaten all the way back to the villa.
In the bathroom, Xia Liu Yi looked at his reflection—and exploded.
“He Chu San! Get in here! What the hell is this? That’s not a leopard—it’s a cat!”
“It’s a leopard,” He Chu San lied smoothly, rummaging through luggage for condoms.
With a bang, Xia Liu Yi stormed out, naked, turning his back. “It’s a cat! Are you blind?!”
The slender, elegant tabby sprawled across his back, tail curling around his waist—it was undeniably adorable.
He Chu San trembled with suppressed laughter.
“You still dare laugh?!” Xia Liu Yi launched into another beating.
Dodging, He Chu San added fuel to the fire by handing him the mango-scented soap. “Boss, stop hitting me—go wash up with your ‘equipment.’”
Xia Liu Yi dragged him into the bathroom by the ear, nearly dunking his head into the tub. “Attempted murder—mmph—!”
…
Half an hour later, he was hauled out dripping, reeking of mango, and tossed onto the bed. Xia Liu Yi climbed on top of him, reaching down—finding He A’Si already fully awake. A few teasing strokes were enough to have it standing at full attention.
He Chu San tried to get up to look for a condom, but Xia Liu Yi pushed him back down. Straddling him, he grabbed the lubricant from the bedside, applied it, and guided himself down.
The tight, burning heat made He Chu San’s breathing hitch sharply. He steadied Xia Liu Yi’s waist, urging him to slow down, then pushed himself upright, pulling him into an embrace and kissing the tightly furrowed brows drawn by discomfort.
“Slow down—you’re too tight, too reckless,” He Chu San murmured. “I should put one on.”
Xia Liu Yi endured the trembling in his breath, frowning. “Don’t like anything between us…”
The rest of his words were swallowed by He Chu San—along with the soft, trembling moan that followed.
He Chu San might be the one who spoke sweet words effortlessly, but moments like this—these simple, unguarded fragments—were enough to set his blood ablaze and undo him completely.
Futile Devices Scans 
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