As the night gradually faded, the first light of dawn began to glimmer around four or five in the morning.
Xia Liu Yi leaned against the headboard, his head resting on He Chu San’s shoulder, fast asleep. It had been about an hour ago—while the two of them were whispering softly to each other—that he had unknowingly started snoring in a low rumble. For three days and two nights before this incident, his mind had been stretched taut with anguish, unable to find even a moment’s rest.
However, He Chu San did not sleep. Sitting alone in the dimness, he gently stroked and played with Xia Liu Yi’s long fingers, listening to the steady, warm rhythm of his breathing by his ear. He remained in this state for a long, long time.
He had indeed concealed those fierce and cruel arguments. That day, Father had asked far more than just those two questions.
It was true that Father did not dislike Xia Liu Yi and genuinely cared for this jianghu youth who had once saved his son. But that did not mean he approved of such a man’s deeds or could accept his son being with someone like him. All those tender, heartfelt explanations had not moved Father in the slightest.
At the time, Father had lowered his eyes, smoking quietly, before continuing:
“Fine. Even if he truly treats you well and is willing to do this and that for you. I still have two questions. You must answer me truthfully. If there is even a single lie, not only will I never agree to this between you and him—I will never acknowledge you as my son again.”
Kneeling on the ground, He Chu San straightened anxiously. “Father, please ask. I will never lie to you.”
“The first question—since being with him, have you done anything that defies heaven’s principles or harmed anyone?”
He shook his head firmly. “I have not. Not in the past, not now, and never in the future.”
“Good. That, I believe. But the second question—what about him?”
His expression stiffened.
“…Speak.”
Unable to answer? Father set down his pipe and stepped forward, looming over him, pressing close. “You don’t know? He’s been a thug, a boss, roaming the jianghu. Has he never committed those heinous acts? No hacking people down, no collecting debts, no running brothels, no dealing ‘white powder’, no bribing inspectors? If he hasn’t done any of these, how did he build up his gang? Has he harmed people—don’t you know?! Do you genuinely not know, or are you pretending not to know?!”
“…Speak!!”
“…He has. I know… I know everything.”
“Smack—!”
The heavy slap landed on his face—far more forceful than the beating on the night the ring had been discovered! It carried deeper anguish, sharper pain. Father trembled all over, pointing at him as he roared:
“He Chu San! From childhood until now… from childhood until now! Have you forgotten everything I taught you?! Did I teach you to confuse right and wrong?! To forget righteousness for the sake of desire?! If you wanted to be friends with him, I couldn’t stop you—so long as you didn’t know, didn’t participate, I could have let it pass! But you know what he has done, and still you stay with him—you turn a blind eye, you indulge him, and you even pursue him! You even bought a ring and live with him! Have you been helping him hide things from the police?! Have you lost your mind?! Have your eyes, your ears, your conscience all been eaten by dogs?!”
Collapsed on the ground, He Chu San’s ears rang like thunder. Five vivid, blood-red finger marks bloomed across his face. He lowered his head, a tear falling onto the floor.
All those days and nights—had he not been tormented by his own heart in the same way? Did he not understand that this was the true reason for Father’s fury?
His panic when the diamond ring was discovered… his fear on the way here… even that foolish remark about asking Kevin to buy wine—all of it came from knowing that he could never answer these questions openly and honorably.
He should not have fallen in love with such a person.
And even more, he shouldn’t have allowed himself to be with him.
But he couldn’t control himself.
Tears fell one after another, striking the ground. Choking, he forced out his words:
“I know—I know he’s done wrong, that his crimes are grave. You taught me since childhood that ‘heaven’s justice is cyclical, retribution never fails.’ I know that if he has done wrong, he must pay the price. Every drop of blood on his hands is a debt he must repay—I know all of this… But I can’t bear it. I can’t bear it… He was just born in the wrong place, followed the wrong people. He once received someone’s kindness—he only wanted to repay it, to avenge that person. But he’s already stopped—he stopped for me…”
“I know he’s done wrong. But I want to save him. I don’t want to see him locked in prison. I don’t want to see him die in the streets. He treats me so well—he risked his life to protect me. He truly loves me…”
“I hate that I didn’t meet him ten years earlier—I hate that the one who saved him back then wasn’t me…”
His voice broke into sobs, words swallowed by spasmodic breaths. After a long while, he managed to continue:
“That night, he got drunk, holding the card I gave him, sitting on the ground, crying himself to sleep. I held him in my arms—his body was so warm, but his tears were so cold… You’ve never seen him cry. He’s not some ‘Dragon Head’, not some ‘Blood Asura’—he’s just an ordinary man. He can fall in love. He can cry…”
“My heart aches for him. I want to take care of him. I want to save him… Father, I beg you—I only want to save him. I truly love him…”
He bent deeply at the waist, prostrating himself at Father’s feet, his forehead pressed to the ground, his voice hoarse and trembling with desperate pleading.
To the side, Mrs. Wu and Xin Xin couldn’t help but secretly wipe away their tears.
Father stood above him, his expression still stern and furious—yet his eyes had reddened as well.
Born in the mainland to a scholarly family, he found himself stranded in the chaotic Gaau Lung Walled City, a place shrouded in darkness where all sorts of people mingled. To remind himself of the importance of virtue amidst poverty and hardship, he had renamed himself “Bing Xian”.
He Chu San had lost both parents to the temptations of the underworld. Before his death, his birth mother had clasped his hand and implored him to never again be ensnared by such a path.
Despite his obedience, intelligence, and discipline, this child had still succumbed to the allure of emotional attachment.
At last, Father let out a long sigh. With some effort, he bent down and lifted his son’s bowed head.
He Chu San’s face was streaked with tears, grief-stricken. In a low voice, he called out, “Father…”
Father sighed again. “Is he truly giving up? Is he willing to abandon his position as a boss for you?”
He Chu San froze, barely daring to believe what he was hearing. Then he nodded frantically. “Yes! With my help, his company has undergone a complete transformation—there’s not a single illegal business left! No matter how dirty the work, he won’t touch it again! He promised me—he’ll live safely with me!”
Father had no faith in such a promise; it sounded utterly unreliable. Looking at his foolish son, who was crying uncontrollably yet still wearing that naive, unwavering belief, he could only think that the boy had been utterly captivated by Xia Liu Yi’s ill-fated charm—ten times, a hundred times more foolish than Xin Xin when she had eloped with Da Gao.
But what could he do?
The boy had already spoken this far, gone this far. Could such deeply held feelings be so easily withdrawn?
He sighed. “If you insist on being with him, then live like this for a while and see. I can’t stop your heart, but I won’t support your choice either. This is your life. A’San, you’ve grown up. You must take responsibility for your own path. When the day comes that you have to pay the price for your choice… I hope you won’t regret it.”
A tear fell onto his chest. He Chu San snapped out of his memories and quickly turned his head to check on the sleeping Xia Liu Yi. He secretly wiped away the tears on his face.
He brought Xia Liu Yi’s hand to his lips and kissed it, then pressed it against his own heart. The fleeting warmth helped him suppress the turmoil within—the surging undercurrents he dared not let loose.
He told himself again and again: despite the hardships ahead, he had the confidence and ability to protect their love.
He was already happy.
He cherished this moment.
Leaning over, he rested his forehead gently against Xia Liu Yi’s. Closing his eyes, he too drifted into a light sleep.
Futile Devices Scans 
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