Futile Devices Scans

Inspector Zheng waved his hand. “No need. I’ve no use for them. Where is your Boss, Xia Liu Yi?”

“Our Boss is waiting inside,” Xiao Ma replied respectfully. “Apologies, Inspector Zheng. That traitorous bastard He Chu San colluded with Master Qiao. Taking advantage of the chaos within our Hall, he kidnapped our Boss and attempted a coup. When it was time to carry out ‘three blades and six holes’, you intervened and saved him. Our Boss has been unable to make sense of it ever since. He’s been in poor spirits these past few days—fallen ill, in fact.

“He has always held you in high regard. That’s why he agreed to meet you tonight. Unfortunately, he’s unwell and cannot come out to greet you personally, so I’ll apologize on his behalf. You’ve supported Xiao Qi Hall for many years—surely that day’s rescue of He Chu San was due to some misunderstanding. We ask that you explain things clearly to our Boss today, so he won’t continue to misunderstand you.”

Inspector Zheng kept a straight face, cursing inwardly. He knew full well this brat’s veiled tone was a warning sent by Xia Liu Yi—a deliberate show of dominance.

Truth be told, he had no desire to provoke that infamous Blood Asura. The punishment of ‘three blades and six holes’ for traitors was an iron rule of the jianghu—such matters had never concerned the police in the past. Had it not been for the Old Shopkeeper personally giving him orders that day, why would he wade into this muddy mess?

He said nothing.

Xiao Ma knew when to stop. He led him to the general manager’s office on the third floor, then withdrew. Two bodyguards at the door conducted a thorough search, confiscating his firearm and mobile phone. Inspector Zheng rolled his eyes but did not argue.

Pushing the door open, he saw the “ailing” Xia Liu Yi.

The Boss truly looked sick—wrapped in a blanket, reclining weakly on the sofa. His face was pale, unshaven stubble shadowing his jaw, as though he hadn’t cleaned up in days. His expression was worn, yet shadowed with a sinister gloom.

Seeing him enter, Xia Liu Yi slowly sat up, propped a pillow behind his back, and casually lit a cigarette.

“Brother Zheng, have a seat,” he said hoarsely, without much courtesy.

Inspector Zheng sat opposite him. He had intended to begin with polite pleasantries, but seeing Xia Liu Yi’s poor condition—his listless demeanor clearly not an act—he realized the man had truly suffered a heavy blow.

Not daring to push him too far, he sighed and spoke plainly.

“Boss Xia, what happened a few days ago—you were wronged. I owe you an apology. We’ve been friends for years. My ties with Qiao the Second aren’t deeper than with you. Back then, I truly had no choice—I was compelled.”

Xia Liu Yi lowered his gaze, smoking silently, as though his thoughts wandered elsewhere. Only after a long pause did he come back to himself, glancing at him without expression.

“Oh. I understand. Brother Zheng has always acted with measure. This time, stepping in to protect He Chu San—no doubt it was the Old Shopkeeper’s will.”

“You understand, that’s good…” Inspector Zheng began, but Xia Liu Yi cut him off impatiently.

“Then what does the Old Shopkeeper mean by sending you today?”

Inspector Zheng sighed again. “You and Qiao the Second have turned things upside down today. Every precinct is filled with your people. The Organized Crime Bureau is holding meetings through the night over your case. What do you think the Old Shopkeeper means?—He wants you both to settle down.”

Xia Liu Yi flicked ash from his cigarette.

“For years, the He Clan has stood supreme—I’ve never objected. If the Old Shopkeeper wants to protect He Chu San, I won’t object either. But the face I’ve lost this time—Brother Zheng, you’ve seen it. If I don’t reclaim it from that bastard surnamed Qiao, how am I to stand in the jianghu? How will the brothers of Xiao Qi Hall see me as their Boss?”

“The Old Shopkeeper understands all this. You’ll be compensated,” Inspector Zheng reassured him. “Boss Xia, to be frank—you shouldn’t feel so deeply wronged. Since leaving the Gaau Lung Walled City, you’ve had smooth sailing in Kowloon these past years. How many bosses in Hong Kong dare challenge you? Do you really think brute force alone got you this far? The Old Shopkeeper has been backing you from the shadows all along. The Fat Seven Mid-Levels villa case, Qiao the Second’s North Point Pier case—who cleaned up those messes for you? You’re a smart man—you should know this.”

Xia Liu Yi lowered his head, smoking in silence.

Inspector Zheng pressed on. “The Old Shopkeeper sent word—if you’re willing to stop, and Xiao Qi Hall and He Yi Society make peace, no more chaos… then your business will be allowed to expand beyond Kowloon into Hong Kong Island. As for Qiao the Second, the Old Shopkeeper will handle him. He won’t dare trouble you.”

Xia Liu Yi lazily lifted his eyelids. “And what about He Chu San?”

Inspector Zheng slapped his thigh. “Ah, Boss Xia, why don’t you understand? This ‘Wealth-Gathering Prodigy’ isn’t just Qiao the Second’s man—he’s someone the Old Shopkeeper himself wants! No matter how deep your hatred runs, swallow it!”

Xia Liu Yi lowered his gaze again, drifting into that absent state. For a long while, he said nothing.

Just as Inspector Zheng began to think he was being deliberately ignored, Xia Liu Yi suddenly stubbed out his cigarette and dismissed him plainly:

“Fine. I understand. Brother Zheng, convey my thanks to the Old Shopkeeper. You may go.”

Inspector Zheng couldn’t tell what had come over him tonight—this man had been distracted and restless from start to finish. Nor could he tell whether that agreement was sincere.

In any case, he found himself inexplicably ushered out.

After retrieving his firearm and phone, the old inspector stood in the corridor for a moment, thinking it over. Xia Liu Yi wouldn’t dare oppose the Old Shopkeeper—that much he was certain. Tonight’s task was complete.

Relieved, he strolled away with his heavy belly swaying.

Left alone in the office, Xia Liu Yi collapsed back onto the sofa, still lost in thought.

His mind replayed Xiao Ma’s report from an hour earlier:

“Boss, Mr. He said it’s not convenient to meet. He asked you to come another time. He also said he’s fine—the injuries aren’t serious.”

And Inspector Zheng’s words:

“This ‘Wealth-Gathering Prodigy’ isn’t just Qiao the Second’s man—it’s someone the Old Shopkeeper wants!”

—It seemed A’San had not only gained Qiao the Second’s trust, but had penetrated deeper into the tiger’s den, even reaching the Old Shopkeeper himself. He was sinking further and further in.

Thinking this, Xia Liu Yi shoved both hands into his hair and raked it hard.

Restless. Agitated. His heart pounded—he couldn’t stay still for even a second.

Outside, Xiao Ma saw Inspector Zheng off and cautiously returned to the office.

These past few days, the Boss had been like a man who’d lost his soul—drifting through each day in a daze. Xiao Ma didn’t dare get too close, yet didn’t dare leave him alone either, fearing he might do something reckless.

He knocked on the door.

No response.

He pushed it open—

—and froze.

The room was empty.

No one.

Only a wide-open window.

He spun around and rushed into the corridor, grabbing the bodyguard A’Nan by the collar.

“Where’s the Boss?! Where did the Boss go?!”

A’Nan was even more stunned. “What?! The Boss is gone?!”

Midnight. Inside the hospital ward.

The lights were off, yet the computer screens on either side of the bed still glowed faintly.

He Chu San had slept much during the day, and the pain from his wounds still came in waves. Unable to rest, he continued his calculations in the dark.

Earlier that evening, Kevin had brought a basin of hot water to wash his hair. Noticing Kevin’s stiff movements, He Chu San pressed him until he revealed the injury on his back. He then scolded the foolish boy harshly for imitating such reckless self-harm, before sending him home to rest—and to visit his mother.

With Qiao the Second’s surveillance temporarily gone, the guards outside were all their own people.

Now, there was no one else in the ward.

He Chu San was a man of focus. Yet perhaps it was the depth of night stirring his emotions—his fingers slowed upon the keyboard, his mind drifting.

Absentmindedly, he reached to his chest—

Empty.

Fearing Qiao the Second’s suspicion, he had not worn the diamond ring necklace the Boss had given him.

For a moment, longing surged uncontrollably.

With effort, he pulled a pillow into his arms. With no one around, all pretense—Consultant He, Elite He, Hall Master He—fell away. Like a cat, he rubbed his face against the pillow, imagining it to be his Boss.

Eyes closed, he let out a soft, clingy murmur:

“Brother Liu Yi…”

As though in answer—

Click.

A strange sound came from outside the window.

He Chu San jolted, eyes snapping open.

This was the third floor—rats climbing pipes would not be unusual.

But as the faint, continuous sound drew closer—

A wild thought surged uncontrollably in his mind.

In an instant, his blood ignited like gasoline set aflame.

His heart thundered like war drums.

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