Uncle Yuan’s corpse lay sprawled upon the ground, blood flowing in steady rivulets until it pooled like a dark crimson lake. Xia Liu Yi lowered his gun and wiped the splattered blood from his face, his expression utterly cold as he spoke,
“Call in men we can trust to clean this up. This matter is to remain absolutely secret within the Xiao Qi Hall.
“And his family? Deal with them too?” Cui Dong Dong asked.
Xia Liu Yi paused, then turned and shot her a glare. “What the hell do they have to do with it? I was just scaring that old bastard—you took it seriously?”
Cui Dong Dong shrugged. “How would I know if you meant it? What if you suddenly decided to cook his daughter’s unborn grandchild into claypot rice? I’d still have to harden my heart and help you light the fire and sharpen the knife!”
Another killing glare came flying her way. Cui Dong Dong grinned, raising both arms in a cross to “block the strike.” “Just kidding, BOSS!”
……
Xia Liu Yi returned with Cui Dong Dong to the main office. The two conspirators huddled together, whispering and scheming through the night until dawn, hammering out a plan of vengeance.
The plan was simple and ruthless:
Use that photograph as bait, rely on Master Qiao to make the connection, lure the Old Shopkeeper into revealing himself in person. The moment his true identity was exposed—or confirmed to be Xie Ying Jie—they would seize the chance and strike.
……
In the deep hours before dawn, Xia Liu Yi parted ways with Cui Dong Dong and returned alone to his desolate village house.
Lying in the cold, empty bedroom on the second floor, he tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Countless faces drifted through his mind—Azure Dragon, Xiao Man, Xu Ying, Golden Maitreya, Xie Ying Jie…
Yet in the end, all those images merged into He Chu San’s disappointed and indifferent face.
“Leave.”
Xia Liu Yi sighed and raised an arm to cover his eyes.
“Seize the chance,” he had said—but if the Old Shopkeeper truly was Xie Ying Jie, or someone else of towering power, how could such a chance be created? What price would have to be paid to kill him?
If he were injured again in the process, how heartbroken—how disappointed—would He Chu San be?
And even if they succeeded… the death of a Deputy Commissioner—what kind of storm would that bring? If he were arrested… or if he died…
What would become of He Chu San?
Just imagining it made his chest twist in pain.
He turned over, burying his head into the pillow, letting out a long, troubled sigh.
……
Early the next morning, A’Nan came to relieve the shift and was summoned by the Boss. He poked his head cautiously into the bedroom.
Xia Liu Yi, who had not slept for two days and nights, leaned against the headboard. Half his face bore the creases of the pillow, his hair a mess, eyes bloodshot, smoking in silence.
“Starting today, send men to follow Mr. He.”
A’Nan froze. “But… didn’t Mr. He forbid it?” He had clearly heard the sister-in-law ordering all the bodyguards to be withdrawn.
Xia Liu Yi’s tiger eyes flared. “The hell he did! Since when does he call the shots—him or me?! Follow him! I want reports on his movements twenty-four hours a day!”
A’Nan hesitated, then earnestly tried to persuade him, “Boss… why not just go talk to Mr. He directly? He cares about you very, very much. He’s just a little upset. If you coax him, give him a way out—”
“I’ll give him shit!” Xia Liu Yi snapped coldly. “If he’s got the guts, let him never come back to me for the rest of his life!”
Hearing such hard words while looking at his utterly miserable state, A’Nan nearly laughed—but, valuing his life dearly, he forced himself to hold it in.
“Yes, Boss. I’ll arrange it immediately.”
He turned to leave, but Xia Liu Yi called him back, frowning. “Tell them to stay sharp. Don’t get discovered.”
“Yes!”
Though Xia Liu Yi longed for He Chu San to the point every inch of him ached for that damned brat, deep down he did not truly expect reconciliation so soon. There was still the matter of the Old Shopkeeper to settle—this was no time to drag He Chu San back into danger.
Yet if he didn’t pull him back quickly… what if the brat walked away without looking back, truly leaving him?
Caught between hope and fear, his heart was filled with the sour unease of impending heartbreak. The more he thought about it, the more he felt—
Love was fucking terrifying.
……
Under A’Nan’s arrangements, the bodyguards began their “surveillance”—no, protection—of the sister-in-law in secret.
Every day, the man on duty called A’Nan three times:
“Mr. He is at work.”
“Mr. He is at work.”
“Mr. He is at work.”
After several days of listening in, Xia Liu Yi finally exploded, “What the hell—he’s working every damn day?! Does he sleep at the office?!”
“Mr. He sleeps at the office.”
Xia Liu Yi slapped the table in anguish. “Workaholic! What about his father? Doesn’t he care?! Doesn’t he have a sister? His stepmother?! No one manages him at all?!”
The next day was Friday. The report came diligently:
“Mr. He only worked the morning. In the afternoon, he went out shopping with his father, mother, and younger sister.”
Xia Liu Yi finally let out a breath of relief. At least the damned brat was living like a human being for once during heartbreak. He waved A’Nan away with the phone.
Standing in his bedroom with hands on hips, he looked around—clothes, socks, cigarette packs, beer bottles strewn everywhere. A complete mess.
Only then did he realize he himself wasn’t living like a human either.
He raised his voice and shouted for A’Nan to find someone to clean the place.
“Go buy a pack of noodles,” he instructed A’Mao, “and eggs. And choy sum.”
A’Mao, confused, obeyed and returned twenty minutes later with noodles, a basket of eggs, and a large bag of greens.
Then he and A’Nan stood frozen at the kitchen door, watching in horror as the boss personally cooked noodles.
Has Boss been possessed? A’Mao signaled with his eyes.
Heartbreak. Needs an outlet. A’Nan replied knowingly.
“What are you two idiots doing standing there?!” Xia Liu Yi roared, slamming the stove. “Why won’t this damn fire start?!”
“Yes, Boss!”
“Careful, Boss! You don’t light this with a lighter…”
“Boss, you can’t boil a plastic basin…”
“Boss, eggs need to be cracked first…”
“Boss, my mum says you should wash the vegetables first…”
After half an hour of chaotic fumbling, the three grown men finally produced a pot of indescribable brown sludge. Pale foam floated on top, resembling egg drop gone wrong; fishing with a ladle revealed limp vegetable strands and noodles boiled into paste.
Xia Liu Yi stared at the disaster with a cold face—and violently hurled the ladle aside.
A’Nan and A’Mao covered their faces and tried to slip away.
“Where the hell are you going?” Xia Liu Yi said. He didn’t even feel like beating anyone anymore—only dejection filled him. “Call for takeout. And get a case of beer.”
……
On a warm afternoon in early spring, sunlight gentle and soft, Boss Xia crouched outside his village house on the grass, clutching a bottle of beer and staring into space.
The foxtail grass He Chu San had planted long ago grew stubborn and resilient, spreading into a lush patch without anyone tending it. Xia Liu Yi casually plucked a stalk and rolled it between his fingers.
He remembered He Chu San’s words:
“You really need someone to keep you in line.”
Without anyone to manage him, he couldn’t even cook himself a proper bowl of hot noodles.
With a sigh, Xia Liu Yi slapped the grass against his chest, then dropped down onto the ground, lying flat amidst the greenery.
Since he could not enjoy even the slightest warmth of a home, then only serious business remained.
Raising his voice listlessly, he gave an order into the grass:
“A’Nan…”
“Yes, Boss!”
“Call Master Qiao… tell him I’m treating him to dinner tonight…”
“Yes, Boss!”
……
He Chu San, who was out shopping with his parents and Xin Xin, suddenly sneezed several times in a row.
Xin Xin skipped forward and hooked herself onto his arm, laughing. “Brother, they say sneezing means someone’s thinking of you—one sneeze is missing, two is longing, but if it’s three or more in a row…”
“It means I might be catching a cold,” He Chu San said, pushing her forehead away. “Stay back a bit, don’t let me infect you.”
“A’San, your complexion doesn’t look too good. Are you feeling unwell?” Mrs. Wu asked with concern.
“If you’re not feeling well, go back and rest. I can accompany them shopping,” Mr. He said.
“It’s nothing,” He Chu San replied with a smile. “I want to be with the family.” He lowered his head to check the time. “It’s about time—let’s stroll a bit more, then I’ll take you all to a newly opened Western restaurant in Tsim Sha Tsui East.”
“Okay! Okay! I want lobster!” Xin Xin jumped up, looping one arm around He Chu San and the other around her mother. The family chatted and laughed as they walked on.
…
An hour later, the family sat happily in the restaurant, listening to Xin Xin chatter away about her experiences at art school. The waiter served cream of mushroom soup. He Chu San picked up the polished spoon and angled it slightly, catching in its reflection the figures of the two bodyguards who had been tailing them on the street all day.
It seemed his tactic of luring the enemy by feigned retreat had worked well. Xia Liu Yi could no longer hold back. Leave him hanging a bit longer, and perhaps he’d even come knocking on his own to bow his head and admit fault.
He calmly dipped the spoon into the soup. Though there was a faint sense of satisfaction in his heart, he found himself unable to muster any appetite. His body felt unwell, his mind sluggish, and a wave of nausea lingered.
…
At the same time, a yacht drifted upon the azure sea under the setting sun, rocking gently with the waves. Music and dancing filled the deck. Several stunning models in bikinis swayed to the pounding beat, brushing and pressing against one another in seductive movements. Splitting into two groups, they cast flirtatious glances at the two big bosses on the sofa. As they danced, they boldly climbed onto the men’s laps.
Xia Liu Yi sipped his red wine absentmindedly and casually pushed away the model in his arms. She nearly fell to the floor but quickly understood his intent, settling on his lap with nothing more than a showy wiggle, not daring to get any closer.
On the other end of the sofa, Master Qiao embraced two women at once, kissing and groping them one moment, then having them feed him wine mouth-to-mouth the next. Noticing Xia Liu Yi’s distraction, he laughed loudly. “What’s wrong? Tired of the girls at your own nightclub? Next time come pick a few at my place.”
Xia Liu Yi pointed at his dark circles. “Last night I slept with a pair of twins—damn it, each one was a bottomless pit! I still haven’t recovered!”
“Hahaha! Brother Twin-Blade, so you keep the best goods for yourself!”
“The best goods should be shared with Brother Qiao! I was planning to bring them over for you to take a look today, but unfortunately they’re still lying in bed, unable to get up.”
Master Qiao immediately caught his meaning and burst into raucous laughter. Xia Liu Yi—who had in truth sat alone on his bed smoking all night—laughed along as well. As he laughed, he waved away the model on his lap. “Go on, tell them to serve the dishes.”
He turned back to Master Qiao. “Later, try the new foie gras my chef developed. And tonight, head into the cabin and try out that electric bed I bought from Brazil—let the girls play some ‘electric games’ with you.”
“Hahaha! Twin-Blade Xia, you really know how to enjoy life!”
“You flatter me.”
…
After the meal, Xin Xin was still in the mood to continue shopping, but He Chu San sneezed several more times, his complexion growing even more drawn. Mrs. Wu, worried about his health, suggested he return to rest. Mr. He proposed that the whole family escort him home—and take the opportunity to visit his place, since he hadn’t yet seen the apartment He Chu San rented in Tsim Sha Tsui.
He Chu San hesitated slightly, but seeing the family’s enthusiasm, he raised no objections. The family happily followed him back to his small home. Xin Xin had been there before, so she moved about with ease, heading to the sofa to tidy up the work documents scattered across the coffee table and cushions, inviting her parents to sit.
“Wow, there’s dust everywhere! Brother, how long has it been since you cleaned up?!”
“I’ve been busy these past few days, slept at the office,” He Chu San said, earning a few scolding remarks from his parents. Smiling it off, he forced himself into the kitchen to boil water for tea. As he bent to light the stove, a sudden wave of dizziness hit him—whether from lack of sleep or actual illness, he couldn’t tell.
“I’ll do it, Brother,” Xin Xin said, slipping into the kitchen. “Go rest for a bit.”
He Chu San patted her head, feeling she had grown much more sensible, and felt a quiet sense of comfort. When he stepped out, he found his hardworking parents unable to sit idle—Mrs. Wu was tidying things up, while Mr. He had already picked up a broom to sweep the floor.
“Dad, Mom, sit down, I’ll do it myself.”
“What are you being polite for with your father! If you’re unwell, just sit and rest!” With a hearty push, Mr. He pressed him back onto the sofa. Mrs. Wu headed toward the bedroom. “A’San, I’ll get you a jacket—you might have caught a chill.”
The wardrobe? He Chu San turned sharply, wanting to stop her, but it was too late. Mrs. Wu had already opened it. Seeing the tightly packed men’s clothing inside, she paused for a moment.
His heart tightened.
Yet her expression remained unchanged. She simply took out a coat and draped it over his shoulders. “Put this on.”
She smiled lightly. “You should get a bigger wardrobe—your clothes don’t even fit anymore.”
Because that small single wardrobe held the clothes of both him and Xia Liu Yi.
He Chu San knew she might have already noticed something at the wedding last time. He looked at her with unease. Mrs. Wu only smiled gently again, patting his shoulder and giving a subtle shake of her head.
It seemed she hadn’t told his father. Of course—if his father knew, he would have stormed over with a stick long ago. He Chu San let out a quiet breath of relief and shot her a grateful look.
…
Soon, the family sat together. Mrs. Wu spoke softly to him, “A’San, have you been doing well lately?”
“I’m fine.”
“You work so hard. If someone were there to accompany and take care of you, your father and I would feel more at ease.” She looked into his eyes earnestly. Glancing at Mr. He sweeping nearby, she lowered her voice. “A’San, I may not be your birth mother, but I treat you as my own son. I don’t wish for my child to be rich or have a house full of descendants—I only wish for him to live happily. As long as he feels happy, I am at peace.”
He Chu San had never known a mother’s love. These past days, storms had raged within his heart—no matter how strong his will, it had been torment. And he could not share any of it with anyone. Mrs. Wu’s care and understanding were like rain after a long drought, bringing warmth to his eyes.
He could say nothing—only nod in gratitude.
…
Then—
“What are you all talking about?” Xin Xin came out with tea. “So happy. Dad, come drink tea.”
“Coming!” Mr. He chuckled, finishing a few more sweeps. Suddenly, he froze.
Something glinted in the gap of the cabinet by the window.
He bent down and reached in, pulling it out. “Come, come, look what I found!”
A dazzling diamond ring appeared before them.
He Chu San’s face changed.
“A ring? Something this valuable—why are you just leaving it lying around?” Mr. He frowned.
“I—I didn’t, it’s not mine… probably the landlord’s or a previous tenant’s…” He Chu San stammered.
“There’s something engraved inside,” Mr. He said, putting on his reading glasses. Just as he was about to look closely—
He Chu San rushed forward and snatched the ring away.
“What are you doing?!” suspicion flared instantly.
“Better not look at other people’s things. I’ll return it tomorrow—”
“Stop!” Mr.!He roared. “He A’San! I’ve known you since you were a child—what tricks are you playing?! What’s the meaning of this ring? Let me see!”
He snatched it back, raising it toward the light.
Inside the band was engraved a line:
R3 x 61 forever
His eyes widened in disbelief.
Even if he couldn’t read the English, “R3” and “61” were crystal clear. R3—He A’San. And 61… who else could that be but Xia Liu Yi?
In a flash, everything connected—the secretive relationships over the years, the “rich young lady” never brought home, Xia Liu Yi visiting during Spring Festival, the gossip at the wedding, He Chu San’s furtive yet blissful behavior…
His vision went dark.
He shoved He Chu San aside and rushed to the entryway, yanking open the shoe cabinet—pairs of matching summer and winter slippers, and several pairs of men’s shoes clearly not his son’s style.
Then into the bedroom—wardrobe flung open—packed with men’s clothes. He grabbed two at random—flashy, flamboyant, unmistakably Xia Liu Yi’s.
His head spun.
His son… raised by his own hands… and yet he had never imagined—even in his wildest thoughts—that his lover would be a man.
And not just any man—but a gang boss.
How long had they been living together?!
There was even a diamond ring!
Rage consumed him. Trembling, he rolled up his sleeves and stormed out. Xin Xin and Mrs. Wu rushed forward to hold him back. He glared at them—awkward, worried… but not surprised.
“You already knew?!” he roared.
“Dad, calm down—” Xin Xin pleaded. “Don’t get angry, your heart—”
“Let the child explain—sit down first—” Mrs. Wu urged.
Mr. He glared at the pale-faced He Chu San. “You wretched brat! Explain yourself!”
He Chu San opened his mouth weakly. At this point—what was left to explain?
With a bitter resolve, he dropped to his knees.
That single kneel said everything.
Mr. He’s eyes split with fury. He hurled the ring aside, shook off Mrs. Wu and Xin Xin, grabbed the broom—
—and brought it down on He Chu San.
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Futile Devices Scans 
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