Futile Devices Scans

Uncle Yuan’s body lay sprawled on the ground as blood steadily pooled beneath him. Xia Liu Yi put away his gun and wiped the blood spattered across his face, his expression blank. “Get people we can trust to clean this up. No one in the society is to hear about it.”

“Should we take care of his family too?” Cui Dong Dong asked.

Xia Liu Yi paused and turned to glare at her. “What do they have to do with any of this? I was only frightening that old bastard. You actually thought I meant it?”

Cui Dong Dong shrugged. “How was I supposed to know? For all I knew, you might have decided to cook his unborn grandson in a clay pot. Then what could I do except harden my heart, light the stove, and sharpen the knife for you?”

Xia Liu Yi shot her another murderous glare. Cui Dong Dong grinned and crossed her forearms in front of herself like a shield. “Kidding, Boss!”

…

Xia Liu Yi and Cui Dong Dong returned to the headquarters office together. The two partners in crime whispered and plotted until dawn, eventually producing a grand revenge plan that was, in truth, remarkably simple and brutal: use the photograph as bait, have Master Qiao serve as intermediary, lure the Old Shopkeeper into meeting them personally, and once they either saw his true identity or confirmed that he was Xie Ying Jie, create an opportunity to kill him.

Near dawn, Xia Liu Yi left Cui Dong Dong and returned alone to his lonely village house.

He lay in the cold, empty bedroom upstairs, turning restlessly from side to side, unable to sleep. Faces drifted endlessly through his mind—Azure Dragon, Xiao Man, Xu Ying, Golden Maitreya, Xie Ying Jie…

But in the end, every image became He Chu San’s disappointed, distant face. You should go.

Xia Liu Yi sighed and raised an arm over his face.

They had casually said they would “create an opportunity,” but if the Old Shopkeeper truly was Xie Ying Jie—or some other person with equally high status—what opportunity could possibly let Xia Liu Yi get close enough to him? What price would he have to pay to kill such a man? If he was injured again in the process, how hurt and disappointed would He Chu San be? Even if he succeeded, what kind of response would the police unleash after a Deputy Commissioner was killed? If Xia Liu Yi were arrested afterward—or worse, if he died—how devastated would He Chu San be? The thought of He Chu San suffering like that made his heart twist painfully.

He rolled over, shoved his head beneath the pillow, and released an even longer, more troubled sigh.

…

Early the next morning, A’Nan came in for his shift and was summoned into the Boss’s bedroom. The Boss, who had not slept for two days and two nights, sat against the headboard with half his face covered in pillow creases, his hair a mess, his expression dark, and his eyes bloodshot as he smoked.

“Starting today, send someone to follow Mr. He.”

A’Nan stared. “But didn’t Mr. He say he didn’t want that?” He had personally heard the Boss’s wife order the Boss to take all the bodyguards away.

Xia Liu Yi’s fierce eyes snapped toward him. “He says no and that’s the end of it? Who the hell is the Boss here, him or me? Follow him. I want a report on where he is twenty-four hours a day.”

A’Nan hesitated repeatedly before offering his straightforward advice. “Boss, why don’t you just go talk to Mr. He directly? Mr. He cares about you very, very much. He’s only a little upset right now. Coax him a bit. Give him a way to come around.”

“Give him a way out, my ass!” Xia Liu Yi said coldly. “If he’s so tough, let him never come looking for me again!”

A’Nan listened to those uncompromising words, then looked at the Boss’s utterly miserable appearance. He desperately wanted to laugh but valued his life far too much.

“Yes, Boss. I’ll arrange it right away,” he said solemnly.

He turned to leave, only for Xia Liu Yi to call him back. With a frown, Xia Liu Yi added, “Tell them to stay sharp. Whatever they do, don’t let him notice.”

“Yes!”

Although Xia Liu Yi missed He Chu San so badly that it felt as though his heart were being clawed apart, every pore in his body screaming for that little bastard, he did not truly want to reconcile immediately. He still had the Old Shopkeeper to deal with, and this was not the time to pull He Chu San back into danger. Yet if he did not drag He Chu San back soon, he was equally terrified that the little bastard would simply keep walking without ever looking back and genuinely end their relationship.

Caught between hope and fear, filled with all the anxiety and bitterness of someone on the verge of losing the person he loved, Xia Liu Yi increasingly felt that romance was damn terrifying.

…

Under A’Nan’s arrangements, the bodyguards secretly began monitoring—no, secretly protecting—the Boss’s wife. Whoever was on duty made three calls to A’Nan each day to report on the Boss’s wife’s movements: “Mr. He is at work.” “Mr. He is at work.” “Mr. He is at work.”

After listening to this for several days, Xia Liu Yi finally exploded. “Is he seriously at work every damn day? Does he sleep at the office too?”

“Mr. He sleeps at the office.”

Xia Liu Yi slapped the table in anguish. “That damned workaholic! What about his dad? Doesn’t he do anything? Doesn’t he have a sister? What about his stepmother? Is there seriously no one in that whole family who can control him?”

The following day was Friday. The bodyguard on duty reported conscientiously, “Mr. He only worked in the morning. This afternoon, he went out shopping with his father, mother, and younger sister.”

Xia Liu Yi finally relaxed. At least the little bastard had managed to live like a normal human being for one day during his post-breakup misery. Somewhat reassured, he waved A’Nan away with the phone.

He stood in the bedroom with his hands on his hips and looked around at the clothes, socks, cigarette packets, and liquor bottles scattered everywhere. The entire room was filthy and chaotic. Suddenly realizing that he himself was hardly living like a normal human being either, he raised his voice and ordered A’Nan to find someone to clean the place.

“Go buy a packet of noodles,” he told A’Mao. “And eggs. Choy sum too.”

Confused but obedient, A’Mao drove to a nearby market and returned with noodles, a basket of eggs, and a large bag of choy sum. Twenty minutes later, he and A’Nan stood frozen in the kitchen doorway, horrified as they watched the Boss personally attempt to cook noodles.

Has the Boss been possessed? A’Mao asked A’Nan with his eyes.

Broken heart. He needs an outlet, A’Nan replied knowingly.

“What are you two standing there staring at?” the Boss roared, then violently slapped the stove. “Why won’t this damned fire light?”

“Yes, Boss! We’re coming!” “Boss, careful! You don’t light this one with a lighter…” “Boss, you can’t cook things inside that plastic basin…” “Boss, I think you’re supposed to crack the eggs first…” “Boss, my mother says you have to wash the vegetables…”

Three grown men blundered around the kitchen for half an hour and eventually produced a pot of mysterious dark-brown liquid. Gray-white foam and pale strands resembling egg ribbons floated across the surface. Stirring it with a ladle dredged up limp strips of thoroughly overcooked vegetable leaves and noodles that had dissolved almost into paste.

Xia Liu Yi stared darkly at the pot of black noodle sludge and slammed the ladle down.

A’Nan and A’Mao covered their faces and cautiously began retreating.

“Where are you going?” Xia Liu Yi asked. He no longer even had the energy to beat them. Filled only with frustration, he said, “Call for takeaway. And buy a case of beer.”

…

On a warm early-spring afternoon, the Boss squatted on the grass outside his village house holding a beer bottle and staring into space. The foxtail grass He Chu San had planted there long ago had grown stubbornly and vigorously without anyone caring for it, spreading into a thick green patch. Xia Liu Yi casually plucked one fluffy stalk and rolled it back and forth between his fingers.

He remembered something He Chu San had once said. You really do need someone to keep you in line.

Without anyone keeping him in line, Xia Liu Yi could not even eat a bowl of hot noodles cooked in his own kitchen.

Melancholy, he laid the foxtail grass across his chest, dropped heavily onto the ground, and then sprawled flat on his back among the grass.

Since he could not enjoy even a scrap of domestic warmth, he might as well get down to business. Without bothering to sit up, he raised his voice and called dispiritedly from the grass, “A’Nan…”

“Yes, Boss!”

“Call Master Qiao… I’m taking him to dinner tonight…”

“Yes, Boss!”

…

At that very moment, He Chu San, who was shopping with his parents and Xin Xin, suddenly sneezed several times in succession.

Xin Xin lunged forward and hung off his arm. “Brother, they say sneezing means someone is thinking about you. One sneeze means ‘thinking,’ two means ‘missing,’ and if you sneeze three times or more—”

“It means I may have caught a cold.” He Chu San pushed her forehead away. “Stay away from me. You might catch it.”

“A’San, you don’t look very well. Are you feeling sick?” Mother Wu asked with concern.

“If you’re unwell, go home and rest. I can keep the two of them company,” Father He said.

“I’m fine.” He Chu San smiled. “I want to spend time with my family.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost time. Let’s walk around a little longer, and then I’ll take you to a new Western restaurant in Tsim Sha Tsui East.”

“Yes! Yes! I want lobster!” Xin Xin sprang up, hooking one arm around He Chu San and the other around her mother. Laughing and chatting, the family continued down the street.

…

An hour later, the family sat happily together in the Western restaurant while Xin Xin chattered about everything happening at her art school. A waiter served cream of mushroom soup. He Chu San lifted the polished spoon and angled it behind himself, catching the reflection of the two bodyguards who had been following them through the streets all day.

It seemed his tactic of retreating in order to advance had worked rather well. Xia Liu Yi had already lost patience. If He Chu San left him hanging for a little longer, perhaps Xia Liu Yi would even come to his door and apologize first.

Without changing his expression, He Chu San lowered the spoon into his bowl. A small flicker of satisfaction warmed him, yet he could not summon much appetite. His body felt uncomfortable, his head heavy, and his stomach nauseated.

…

At the same time, a yacht floated upon the blue sea beneath the setting sun, rocking gently with the waves. Music and laughter filled the deck. Several bikini-clad models rubbed and pressed against one another to a pounding beat, their movements deliberately provocative. Splitting into two groups, they flirted with the two bosses lounging on the sofas and eventually grew bold enough to straddle their laps.

Xia Liu Yi drank his red wine absentmindedly and casually pushed away the model in his arms. She nearly fell to the floor but immediately understood the hint. She remained sitting on his knee and merely swayed for appearance’s sake, no longer daring to press herself against him.

At the other end of the sofa, Master Qiao had a woman in each arm, alternately kissing and groping them and making the models pass wine to him mouth to mouth. Seeing Xia Liu Yi’s distracted expression, he called out teasingly, “What’s wrong? Tired of all the beauties at your own nightclub? Next time, come pick a few from mine.”

Xia Liu Yi pointed at the dark circles beneath his eyes. “Had twins last night. Both of them could suck a man dry. I still haven’t recovered!”

“Hahaha! Brother Twin Blade, so you keep all the best goods for yourself!”

“Good things are meant to be shared with Brother Qiao! I wanted to bring them for you to inspect today, but unfortunately they’re still lying in bed and can’t get up.”

Master Qiao understood perfectly and burst into raucous laughter. Xia Liu Yi, who had actually spent the previous night sitting miserably alone on his bed smoking until dawn, laughed along with him. Then he waved away the model sitting on his lap. “Go. Tell them to serve the food.”

Turning back to Master Qiao, he added, “Try the new foie gras pâté my chef developed. And tonight, how about testing out that electric bed I imported from Brazil? Let the girls play some ‘electric games’ with you.”

“Hahaha! Twin Blade Xia, now you know how to enjoy life!”

“Not at all, not at all. You flatter me.”

…

After dinner, Xin Xin still wanted to continue shopping, but He Chu San sneezed several more times and looked increasingly worn out. Mother Wu worried about him and suggested that he go home to rest. Father He proposed that all of them accompany He Chu San home and spend a little time there. After all, ever since He Chu San rented his place in Tsim Sha Tsui, Father He had never visited.

He Chu San hesitated slightly, but seeing the whole family in such high spirits, he did not object. They cheerfully followed him back to his little home. Xin Xin had been there before and knew her way around. She went straight to the sofa and began gathering the work papers spread across the coffee table and cushions so their parents could sit.

“Wow, there’s dust on everything! Brother, how long has it been since you cleaned?”

“I’ve been busy. I’ve been sleeping at the office,” He Chu San said, earning several immediate scoldings from Father He and Mother Wu. He smiled and insisted that he was fine while forcing himself into the kitchen to boil water for tea. As he bent to turn on the stove, a wave of dizziness suddenly struck him. He could not tell whether it came from his prolonged lack of sleep or whether he really was getting sick.

“I’ll do it, Brother.” Xin Xin slipped into the kitchen. “Go rest.”

He Chu San patted the top of her head, pleased that she had become so considerate. He returned to the living room and discovered that his hardworking parents were apparently incapable of sitting still. Mother Wu had begun tidying for him, while Father He was sweeping the floor.

“Dad, Mom, sit down. I can do this myself.”

“Why are you being polite with your own dad? If you’re sick, sit down and rest!” Father He boomed, planting a hand on him and pushing him firmly back onto the sofa. Mother Wu headed toward the bedroom. “A’San, I’ll get you something to put on. You’ve probably caught a chill.”

The wardrobe? He Chu San immediately turned his head. He wanted to stop her, but it was too late. Mother Wu had already opened the wardrobe. When she saw it packed densely with men’s clothing, her movements paused. He Chu San’s heart tightened. Mother Wu, however, kept her expression perfectly normal. She took out a jacket and draped it over him. “Put this on.”

Then she smiled deliberately. “You should get a larger wardrobe. You can barely fit all your clothes in there.”

Because that small single wardrobe contained clothes belonging to both He Chu San and Xia Liu Yi. He Chu San knew she might already have noticed something around the time of the wedding and looked at her anxiously. Mother Wu gave him another gentle smile, lightly patted his shoulder, and shook her head.

Apparently, she had not told Father He about her suspicions. Naturally, if Father He had known, he would already have arrived carrying a stick. He Chu San quietly relaxed and gave her a grateful look.

“Old He, sit down. I’ll sweep,” Mother Wu said, turning her attention to Father He. Father He vigorously swung the broom. “No need! Leave it. You sit with A’San and watch some television! Xin Xin, make your dad some tea!”

“It’s boiling already, Dad!”

Mother Wu sat beside He Chu San on the sofa and asked gently, “A’San, have things been going well for you lately?”

“Mm. More or less.”

“You work so hard. If there were someone beside you to keep you company and look after you, your dad and I would feel more at ease.” Mother Wu looked directly into his eyes, her expression earnest.

She glanced toward Father He, who was bent over sweeping nearby, then lightly patted the back of He Chu San’s hand and lowered her voice. “A’San, I may not be your birth mother, but I think of you as my own son. For my son, I don’t ask that he become fabulously rich or fill the house with children and grandchildren. I only want him to live happily. If he feels happy, then I can rest easy.”

He Chu San had never experienced a mother’s care in his life. His heart had been battered by storms throughout these past days. No matter how strong-minded he was, the strain had become nearly unbearable, yet he had no one he could speak to and had not dared reveal even the slightest crack. Mother Wu’s understanding and concern fell over him like rain after a long drought, and his eyes instantly grew hot. He could tell her nothing. He could only nod gratefully.

Mother Wu had not expected a few simple words to bring tears to the eyes of this intelligent, capable eldest son. Startled, she quickly patted his shoulder soothingly, shifted herself to shield him from Father He, and handed him a tissue to wipe his eyes.

He Chu San quickly regained control and whispered, “Thank you, Mom.”

“Don’t say that. I haven’t done anything for you. You’ve always been sensible and independent. Your dad and I never have to worry about you,” Mother Wu said. “Xin Xin should learn more from you.”

“Xin Xin is wonderful. She’s already very sensible…”

Mother and son continued chatting quietly on the sofa until Xin Xin brought out the tea. “What are you two talking about? You look so happy. Dad, come have some tea.”

“Coming!” Father He replied cheerfully, giving the floor another two sweeps. Then he abruptly stopped. Something was sparkling inside the narrow gap beside the cabinet near the window.

He bent down and struggled to reach it. “Come, come. Look what I found!”

A dazzling diamond ring appeared in his hand. He Chu San’s expression changed.

“Why is this a ring?” Father He asked suspiciously. “A’San, something this expensive and you just throw it on the floor?”

He Chu San’s acting skills always dropped below zero in front of his father. Caught completely off guard and guilty to begin with, he stammered, “I-I didn’t. It isn’t mine. Maybe the landlord’s, or the previous tenant’s…”

“There seems to be something engraved inside.” Father He took his reading glasses from his pocket and held the ring toward the light. Just as he was about to make out the letters, He Chu San rushed forward and snatched it away.

“What are you doing?” Father He’s suspicions immediately sharpened.

“It belongs to someone else. We shouldn’t inspect it. I’ll return it to the landlord tomorrow.” He Chu San backed away.

“Stop!” Father He thundered. “He A’San! I raised you from birth. The moment you lift your backside, I know whether you’re about to take a shit! You think your dad can’t tell when you’re hiding something? What’s so strange about that ring? Give it here!”

He charged over and snatched the ring back. He Chu San tried to stop him, but one glare from Father He froze him in place. Father He raised the ring high and narrowed his eyes. Engraved clearly along the inner band were the words:

R3 × 61 forever

Father He’s eyes widened in disbelief. Even if he could not understand the English word at the end, he certainly understood R3 and 61. R3 was obviously He A’San. And 61… how many other “Liu Yi” could there possibly be?

Lightning flashed through Father He’s still-sharp mind. He remembered He Chu San’s secretive behavior about his love life over the past few years, the wealthy young lady whom he stubbornly refused to bring home, Xia Liu Yi spending Lunar New Year at their house, the neighbors’ gossip at the wedding, and He Chu San’s furtive yet ridiculously delighted behavior that day.

His heart tightened. He shoved He Chu San aside and rushed to the entrance, throwing open the shoe cabinet. Sure enough, there were paired summer and winter slippers, along with several pairs of men’s leather shoes that clearly did not suit He Chu San’s style. Then he stormed into the bedroom and yanked open the wardrobe. It was packed with men’s clothing. He pulled out two pieces at random. The flamboyant, showy style practically screamed Xia Liu Yi.

Father He’s vision went dark.

He had raised his own son. He had long felt that something was strange, but even at his most imaginative, he could never have conceived that his son’s lover was a man. And not merely a man—a triad Boss.

How long had they already been living together? They even had diamond rings!

Trembling with fury, Father He rolled up his sleeves and charged from the bedroom toward He Chu San. Xin Xin and Mother Wu rushed forward to stop him. He turned and glared at them, only to see that although they looked awkward and worried, neither showed even a trace of surprise.

“You already knew?” he roared at Xin Xin and Mother Wu.

“D-Dad, calm down first,” Xin Xin said nervously. “Don’t get too angry. Your heart and blood vessels aren’t good.”

“Yes, let the child explain. Sit down first. Sit down and talk slowly,” Mother Wu pleaded anxiously.

Father He glared past them at the pale-faced He Chu San. “You rotten brat! Explain this clearly!”

He Chu San opened his mouth weakly. At this point, what explanation was there left to give? With nothing more to lose, he gritted his teeth and dropped to his knees. That alone confirmed everything.

Father He’s eyes bulged with rage. He threw down the ring, shook off Mother Wu and Xin Xin, seized the broom, and brought it down on He Chu San.