He Chu San stood upon the pier, watching as Master Qiao’s carriage sped away into the distance. Kevin emerged from the shadows and came to stand behind him.
“Mr. He, has Master Qiao believed you?”
“Hard to say,” He Chu San replied, his gaze fixed coldly upon the street corner. “Master Qiao and the Old Shopkeeper are both deeply suspicious men. Unless I act until the very brink—until the mountains are exhausted and the rivers run dry—they will never truly trust me.”
He suddenly turned his head and sneezed, utterly shattering the lofty, unfathomable air he had just carried. Kevin hurriedly draped a coat over his shoulders. Pulling the collar tight, He Chu San quickly slipped into the car, where he collapsed into the back seat, sneezing repeatedly in a rather undignified fashion. Wrapped tightly in his coat, he curled into himself, feeling increasingly that his strength had waned of late.
“Could it be that my body has truly grown weaker?” he muttered to himself, inwardly aggrieved. He had clearly been eating well and training diligently! Even his abdominal muscles had taken on a fine shape!
From the driver’s seat, Kevin offered comfort. “It is only that Mr. He has been overworking himself. You haven’t had proper rest in quite some time, have you?”
“Yes…” He Chu San sighed wearily. “Whenever I think of how he must hate me, sleep refuses to come.”
“And how long does Mr. He intend to keep this from Mr. Xia?”
He Chu San paused to consider, then released yet another soft sigh.
……
The car drove toward the city center, gradually entering a realm awash in dazzling neon lights. Stars filled the heavens, the moon hung high above, yet for this sleepless city of revelry, the true clamor and splendor had only just begun. Leaning against the window, He Chu San pressed his forehead lightly to the glass like a child, gazing in a daze at the rushing nightscape beyond.
He had already stepped onto the stage and sung his opening act, revealing his brilliance; all lay within his grasp. Yet in this brief interlude between acts, he felt none of the exhilaration of early advantage, nor the bold confidence of one who commands the board. His heart, in this moment, was simple—almost foolishly so: after a long sea breeze and weary toil, all he wanted was to burrow into Xia Liu Yi’s embrace and seek a moment of comfort.
……
Late into the night, He Chu San returned home—to the village house in Kowloon City that belonged to Xia Liu Yi. Ever since the incident at the headquarters, he had taken advantage of the situation, claiming to manage affairs on Xia Liu Yi’s behalf, and had openly moved into the boss’s residence under the pretense of “waiting for the boss’s return.”
Entering through the front gate, he did not linger long before slipping out the back door in secret, scaling the wall and making his way through a desolate alley. He then vaulted into the backyard of a neighboring house.
Several bodyguards patrolled beneath the wall. Long accustomed to his sudden appearances, they greeted him respectfully. He entered the heavily guarded building, passed through the sitting room, and made his way to a concealed door in the corner, which led down to the basement stairs.
—Xia Liu Yi, imprisoned within, had no idea that he was being held in the house right next door to his own; nor did he know that his trusted bodyguards, A’Nan and A’Mao, were also confined within this very building.
He Chu San descended the stairs softly, nodded to the guard at the basement door, then leaned close and listened carefully. Not a sound came from within.
“Asleep?” he mouthed.
The guard nodded. At his signal, the door was unlocked, and He Chu San slipped inside. The guard swiftly locked it again behind him.
A single dim lamp cast faint light across the room. Xia Liu Yi lay curled on his side upon the bed, without even a blanket. Chains still clasped his ankles, while the handcuffs beside him glinted faintly.
He Chu San approached quietly, bent to pick up the fallen blanket, and was just about to cover him—
When suddenly, a heavy blow struck his abdomen!
He had no time even to cry out. The world spun, and in the blink of an eye he was slammed onto the bed. A chain tightened brutally around his neck, choking off his breath! He let out a strangled whimper, face flushed red, instinctively struggling—yet the moment he saw the murderous fury in Xia Liu Yi’s eyes, he stilled, resigned, and closed his own.
At the final moment, Xia Liu Yi loosened the chain.
He Chu San gasped harshly, coughing as though his chest were tearing apart, barely recovering before a cold snap sounded at his wrist—
Click. Click.
His right hand had been cuffed to the bedpost.
Xia Liu Yi climbed off the bed without expression, kicked aside the loose shackles around his own ankle, and walked toward the door without even glancing back.
“You won’t get out,” He Chu San rasped behind him. “They won’t open the door.”
Xia Liu Yi spun back, seized his throat, and snarled, “If I kill you right here, do you think they’ll still keep it shut?!”
“Cough… they… won’t…” He Chu San struggled to speak. “I gave orders… no matter what happens… even if I die inside…”
His words cut off as Xia Liu Yi, in a surge of rage, tightened his grip!
After a long moment, Xia Liu Yi released him once more, face icy. He Chu San turned over, curling up as he coughed violently, retching over the edge of the bed. What he spat out was tinged with the scent of champagne—bile and a trace of undigested food. His stomach was otherwise empty.
Hearing the relentless coughing and dry heaving, Xia Liu Yi’s heart twisted as though being torn in two.
“What exactly are you trying to do? Are you really forcing me to kill you?!”
Still panting, He Chu San dragged himself upright. He took a sip from the glass at the bedside, rinsed his mouth, then opened the drawer and pulled out a tissue—slipping a small object from within into his palm without notice.
Wiping his lips, he said calmly, “Would you really have the heart?”
“You tell me?!”
He Chu San let out a quiet laugh—half joy, half sorrow. Exhausted and aching, he shifted himself to sit against the headboard, propping pillows behind his waist and drawing the blanket over his legs. Only then did he seem to relax slightly.
After a slow breath, he asked, as though nothing had happened, “How did you unlock the handcuffs?”
With a kick, Xia Liu Yi dragged out the dismantled remains of a television from beneath the bed, then produced a length of stiff copper wire from his pocket.
He Chu San smiled again. “Impressive. As expected of you, Brother Liu Yi.”
When he had earlier loosened Xia Liu Yi’s restraints to give him some freedom of movement, he had already considered this possibility. Yet what else could he have done? How could he bear to keep Xia Liu Yi chained to a bed twenty-four hours a day?
Xia Liu Yi repeated, “What exactly are you trying to do?”
He Chu San shook his head. “I can’t say.”
“Is Dong Dong still alive?”
“……”
Receiving no answer, Xia Liu Yi grew both furious and desperate. He climbed onto the bed, straddling He Chu San and pinning his shoulders, staring straight into his eyes.
“Speak! What did you mean last time? Is Dong Dong still alive?!”
He Chu San met his gaze, his eyes deep as the sea.
“If I say she isn’t… will you kill me to avenge her?”
“He Chu San, don’t force me!” Xia Liu Yi roared. “You can do anything you want to me—but you cannot touch her!”
Grief and fury choked his voice. After a long struggle, he managed to speak again.
“Fool… if you’ve harmed her… how could I ever forgive you?”
The pain and torment written so plainly across his face cut into He Chu San’s heart like blades. And yet, like a willing sufferer, he felt both agony and a strange, bitter joy. Agony—because he felt Xia Liu Yi’s pain as his own. Joy—because even now, Xia Liu Yi was still desperately searching for a reason to forgive him.
How he longed, in this very moment, to lay everything bare before Xia Liu Yi—to confess it all.
But he could not.
Before the grand play yet to unfold, Xia Liu Yi must not learn the script. For Xia Liu Yi would surely stop him—perhaps even abandon vengeance for his sake. And yet, if He Chu San did not see this through, Xia Liu Yi would never be freed from the shadows of Azure Dragon and Xiao Man’s deaths.
Once, he had been angered by Xia Liu Yi’s recklessness, ignorance, and deception, even wishing to force him into reflection. But in truth, was he not the same? Was he not deceiving Xia Liu Yi as well—shouldering danger alone behind his back? If he were to come to harm, would Xia Liu Yi not suffer just the same?
These past days, he too had been consumed by contradiction and guilt.
Raising his hand, dragging the chain of the cuff, he gently wiped away the moisture at the corner of Xia Liu Yi’s eye—
Then leaned forward and kissed him deeply.
Xia Liu Yi was thrown into utter turmoil by the kiss. In that dazed moment, he seemed to taste an indescribable bitterness lingering on He Chu San’s lips, and his heart grew ever heavier, ever more tormented. He did not move—allowing the kiss, offering neither resistance nor response.
He Chu San kissed him for a long, long while. At last, he let out a satisfied sigh and leaned back weakly against the pillows.
“Let me tell you something good,” He Chu San said softly. “Brother Xiao Ma is still alive.”
Xia Liu Yi froze, staring at him in disbelief.
“It’s true. He came back alive. He guessed you were under house arrest by me and intends to drive me from power.”
Shock and joy surged together within Xia Liu Yi. For a moment, he even forgot the locked door. He turned as if to leap off the bed and rush out—but the instant his foot touched the ground, his head swam, and his consciousness began to blur.
“What did you feed me?!” he barked angrily, clutching his head. No wonder there had been that bitter taste in the other’s mouth!
“A sedative, just taken from the drawer,” He Chu San replied. His own eyelids were already growing heavy. Seizing what little time remained, he spoke while shrugging off his coat and slipping beneath the covers. He arranged the pillows neatly, then patted the bed invitingly.
“Come up. It’s been a long time since we slept together.”
Xia Liu Yi stood rigid with anger, refusing to move. He Chu San only smiled, closing his eyes as he called out toward the door, “When we’ve both fallen asleep, come in and move him back onto the bed—chain him up again!”
“……” Xia Liu Yi was so furious he nearly choked on it.
……
Xie Jia Hua sat outside a hospital room, his expression distant as he wrestled with heavy thoughts.
Earlier, through the Hong Kong branch of Interpol, he had requested shared intelligence from the Thai division regarding Golden Maitreya. Combining that information with Qin Hao’s experiences in Thailand, he uncovered a buried past: Hao Wei—the first Dragon Head of Xiao Qi Hall—and Golden Maitreya, who later became their narcotics supplier, had likely known each other over twenty years ago.
In his youth, Golden Maitreya had boasted of traveling to Hong Kong, robbing banks, and killing men—tales that spread widely among his old associates as proof of his ruthlessness. And it was precisely twenty years ago that Hao Wei suddenly came into a windfall, founding Xiao Qi Hall, lending usury, and opening gambling dens.
Twenty years prior, Hong Kong had witnessed a sensational bank heist. Two masked robbers had never been apprehended. Now, it seemed likely they were none other than Golden Maitreya and Hao Wei. During that heist, a police officer had been killed—Lu Yong. The other officer present at the scene… had been his own father, Xie Ying Jie.
Qin Hao finished handling his discharge papers and hurried over.
“Brother Jia Hua?”
Xie Jia Hua reacted a beat too late, then lifted his head, his usual cold composure restored. “All done?”
“Yes. Let’s go—I’ll drive you home.”
Qin Hao had driven Xie Jia Hua’s private car to pick him up, and now led him toward the elevator. As they walked, Xie Jia Hua inquired about recent developments. The Political Department had completed its investigation; he now awaited formal disposition. His police status would be reinstated, though he might face demotion.
“I’m fine, Brother Jia Hua. I deserve it,” Qin Hao said. “I’m only worried they’ll transfer me to logistics. I want to stay in O Bureau with you.”
Xie Jia Hua patted his lowered head. “Don’t worry. I’ll speak to my superiors. How is Jia Bao?”
Qin Hao hesitated. “I don’t know. After the inquiry, he was suspended. I heard he hasn’t left home since. I don’t know his outcome.”
Xie Jia Hua guessed that his aunt—Jia Bao’s mother and his father’s sister—would surely plead with her brother, the Deputy Commissioner, to suppress the matter. But his father, ever proud of his incorruptibility, would never agree. Jia Bao’s situation looked grim.
Inside the elevator, Qin Hao leaned close and lowered his voice. “Earlier, you had us send the two female corpses to forensics for ‘genetic testing.’ We compared them with the hair samples found at Cui Dong Dong’s residence. The results came in this morning—the bodies are not Cui Dong Dong’s, nor Fang Xiao Luo’s.”
Xie Jia Hua’s brow furrowed deeply. He had already suspected as much.
Qin Hao continued, “We also discovered that the day before the villa explosion, the Kowloon Funeral Home reported two missing female corpses. We’re contacting the families now for DNA verification.”
Xie Jia Hua said nothing, staring ahead—just as the elevator doors opened.
Standing outside was Lu Guang Ming, holding a bouquet of flowers, waiting.
Lu Guang Ming saw him and smiled brightly. “Inspector Xie, what a coincidence.”
Xie Jia Hua immediately pressed the close-door button. Lu Guang Ming stuck out a long leg to block it and slipped inside, stuffing the bouquet into Xie Jia Hua’s arms.
“I came specially to congratulate you on your discharge, Inspector Xie. Where are you headed—station or home?”
Xie Jia Hua ignored him coldly. Unbothered, Lu Guang Ming turned cheerfully to Qin Hao.
“Hello again, little brother.”
Qin Hao glanced at Xie Jia Hua and wisely kept silent.
Lu Guang Ming chuckled. “So serious! You must be personally trained by Inspector Xie—quite the resemblance!”
Being called “elder” made Xie Jia Hua shoot him a glare. Lu Guang Ming winked mischievously in return. Watching this exchange, Qin Hao felt a growing unease—he had never seen Xie Jia Hua so openly expressive, trading glances like this.
The elevator reached the parking level. Xie Jia Hua shoved the bouquet back into Lu Guang Ming’s arms and strode out. Qin Hao followed closely, while Lu Guang Ming trailed behind, chattering.
“Where are you going? Give me a lift—my car’s in repair. Took me an hour by bus!”
Xie Jia Hua snatched the keys from Qin Hao and gripped them tightly, glaring at Lu Guang Ming blocking the car.
“Move.”
“I’m in a hurry,” Lu Guang Ming insisted. “I’ve a meeting at the ICAC at ten. I came early to visit you—but traffic—”
“Take a taxi,” Xie Jia Hua cut him off coldly.
“Come on, we’re going the same way,” Lu Guang Ming winked. “Unless you moved after what we did last time—mmph—!”
His words were cut short as Xie Jia Hua lunged forward and clamped a hand over his mouth.
“……” Qin Hao, who had just realized something.
Pinned by one hand at the shoulder and gagged by the other, Lu Guang Ming simply fell into Xie Jia Hua’s arms, pressing the bouquet against his chest. Xie Jia Hua shoved him away—only for him to open his mouth again. He dragged him back, covering his mouth once more.
Qin Hao stood stiffly aside, watching them struggle—until suddenly, a thunderous voice rang out:
“A’Hua! What are you doing?!”
Xie Jia Hua instantly shoved Lu Guang Ming away and turned.
A stern middle-aged man stood before them—graying at the temples, his sharp features strikingly similar to Xie Jia Hua’s, tall and imposing, dressed with austere elegance. Having just stepped out of a business vehicle, he had witnessed the entire scene: the two men grappling together, both clutching a bouquet.
His face darkened as he strode forward and struck Xie Jia Hua across the face!
Xie Jia Hua did not dodge. The blow landed cleanly, his cheek flushing red. He looked back without expression.
“Embracing another man in public? Is this what a police officer does?!” the man thundered.
Xie Jia Hua replied evenly, “You misunderstand. This is Investigator Lu of the ICAC. We had a minor dispute over a case—not ‘embracing.’”
His father—Deputy Commissioner Xie Ying Jie—turned a scrutinizing gaze upon Lu Guang Ming. In Lu Guang Ming’s eyes flickered a strange, barely concealed hatred, causing a ripple of suspicion.
After a tense pause, Lu Guang Ming suddenly smiled as though nothing had happened. Producing a business card, he presented it with both hands.
“My surname is Lu. I serve with the ICAC. A misunderstanding just now—apologies for the impropriety.”
Xie Ying Jie glanced at the card but did not take it, instead gesturing behind him. One of his aides stepped forward, accepted the card, and returned one bearing the title of Secretary to the Deputy Commissioner.
Lu Guang Ming feigned surprise. “Ah, Deputy Commissioner Xie. My apologies.”
“What business do you have with Inspector Xie?” Xie Ying Jie demanded. “What case requires disturbing an injured officer in hospital? Is this how your ICAC operates now?”
“Of course not—” Lu Guang Ming began, but Xie Jia Hua stepped forward, blocking him.
“No need to trouble yourself with trivial matters,” Xie Jia Hua said. “If you have business with me, speak plainly.”
“I came to visit my son. What else would it be?”
“Is that so? I’ve been hospitalized three days. Not a single call from you. I assumed you came on official business.”
“Xie Jia Hua! I am your father—watch your tone!”
“Father,” Xie Jia Hua replied with perfect courtesy but no warmth, “this is a family matter. Let us not provide entertainment for onlookers. Or do you intend to find another excuse to send me to America for ‘further training’?”
He stepped closer and lowered his voice.
“What exactly are you afraid I might uncover?”
Xie Ying Jie’s expression turned ugly in an instant.
Xie Jia Hua stepped back calmly. “Thank you for visiting. I am well and discharged—no need for concern. I won’t see you out.”
Without waiting for a reply, he turned, opened the car door, and took the driver’s seat. He gestured to Qin Hao and Lu Guang Ming.
“Get in.”
Qin Hao immediately complied, taking the back seat. Lu Guang Ming pointed at himself uncertainly—Xie Jia Hua glared, and he hurriedly circled to the passenger side and slipped in.
The car sped away.
Xie Ying Jie remained where he stood, his face ashen with fury.
Futile Devices Scans 
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