Late one night, several days later, the Old Shopkeeper’s proxy appeared inside He Chu San’s data analysis company office in Wan Chai. He wore a hat and dark glasses, the raised collar of his trench coat drawn tight to conceal his face. His men barred Kevin and He Chu San’s bodyguards outside. On the entire office floor, only the General Manager’s room remained lit.
He Chu San closed the door and brewed him a cup of tea. The man did not sit. Instead, he walked to the window, removed his glasses, and gazed out through the floor-to-ceiling glass.
“The view here is not bad,” he said.
Across Victoria Harbour, the brilliant lights of both shores seemed to merge with the stars scattered across the night sky, illuminating his gray eyes and the deep, blade-carved lines at the corners of them.
“I have not seen the stars in a long time,” he said calmly. Then, as if changing the subject without cause, he lifted a hand to press against a slight bulge beneath his collar. “For this matter you are doing for him—how much are you taking?”
He Chu San stood behind him. “Thirty percent of the profit.”
“No one has ever taken more than twenty.”
“No one has ever done such business for him before.”
The proxy turned around. “You foolish brat. Do you think no one has ever proposed this to him? Do you think you are the bold one?”
“No,” He Chu San replied evenly. “It is that he has grown old—and grown impatient.”
His gaze fell upon the proxy’s hand. He knew what lay beneath that pressed collar—a listening device. Every word and movement of this stand-in was forever under Xie Ying Jie’s surveillance and control.
“You have spoken too much today.”
The proxy gave a faint, self-mocking smile. “It has been a long time since I have truly spoken. When a man lives too long within a disguise, he forgets who he is. At times, I think I am him. Only this thing reminds me—I am nothing at all… In all these years, you are the first to see through me.”
He cast He Chu San a glance—that bitter, layered look sent a chill through the latter’s heart.
It was as if… the man had seen through him as well.
But the proxy did not continue. He sat down upon the sofa, released his collar, and spoke in a formal tone.
“‘That one’ has agreed. You will begin next week. The funds you requested will arrive on time. However, we have our own accounts and traders. I will remain here with you to relay instructions.”
He Chu San had long anticipated Xie Ying Jie’s caution—he would never allow the money to fall directly under another’s control.
“Very well.”
“However,” the proxy continued, “you must first commit your own capital to ‘make the market.’ Only if conditions prove favorable will we follow.”
A trace of difficulty crossed He Chu San’s face. “The capital under my command may not be enough to start momentum.”
“A breeze can stir waves. Without the rising tide, how do ships upon the shore ever reach the water?”
He Chu San hesitated briefly. “Understood.”
The proxy discussed several more details of cooperation before rising to leave. He Chu San escorted him out. As the man walked, he suddenly pressed his collar again and spoke in a low voice:
“When it is done—he will not leave you alive.”
“I will remain,” He Chu San replied calmly. “Just as you have remained.”
The proxy shook his head slightly. “Sometimes, remaining is not a good thing. Go back. No need to see me off.”
He Chu San stopped at the company entrance, watching as the group entered the elevator. Several tall bodyguards clustered tightly around the proxy—protecting him, yet also escorting him as though under guard.
Recalling the man’s earlier words and that bitter look, He Chu San could not help but frown deeply.
He had Kevin drive him back to a nearby hotel. Ever since he had slipped free of Master Qiao’s surveillance, he had been staying there. Yet in recent days, the watch had not disappeared—it had only grown more pervasive. No longer Master Qiao’s, but the Old Shopkeeper’s—vigilance, and warning.
He entered the room alone, kicking off his shoes and socks as he walked, stepping barefoot into the bathroom. His gaze swept briefly over a listening device hidden in the corner.
Still fully clothed, he sank into the bathtub and turned on the tap. Slowly, his body slid downward, submerging into the rushing water—along with all the filth that clung to him.
……
Monday afternoon. The sun outside blazed fiercely.
Two of the company’s partners burst into He Chu San’s office.
“Sam, what the hell are you doing?! I just got back from a business trip, and Frank tells me you ignored him and moved all client funds into the futures and stock markets?!”
Heavy curtains were drawn across the floor-to-ceiling windows, blocking out the sunlight. The room felt stifling, oppressive. He Chu San sat with a small tray, sipping coffee, his eyes fixed upon the computer screen.
“I have my arrangements,” he said coldly.
“That’s client money!!” the first partner shouted. “Are you trying to stir trouble? You don’t even have that kind of capital—what the hell do you think you’re playing at?!”
The other man pulled him back, sighing. “Sam, you’ve always been calm, with sharp judgment when it comes to risk. Ricky is bold and aggressive; I am cautious. The three of us built this company together to complement each other’s strengths. We agreed to face problems together—but what you’ve been doing lately is far too reckless.”
“If you acknowledge my judgment, then you should trust it,” He Chu San replied.
“Bullshit! You’re going behind our backs and messing around!” Ricky roared. “Do you know your actions could bring massive losses to the company?! Don’t think I won’t expose you to the clients!”
He Chu San’s cold gaze finally shifted from the screen to them.
“Get this straight. Those are my clients—not yours. My shares in this company exceed both of yours combined. In this place, I am the one who calls the shots.”
“What the hell did you just say?!” Ricky rolled up his sleeves, ready to strike, only to be held back tightly by Frank.
Frank continued trying to mediate. “Ricky, calm down—we’re friends, it doesn’t have to end like this. Sam… what you just said hurts. Don’t you realize you’ve been acting like a different person lately? You were abroad, then hospitalized—we held things together without ever making decisions behind your back. But now that you’re back, you won’t even discuss anything with us…”
“There is nothing to discuss,” He Chu San cut him off. “Those who walk different paths cannot make plans together. If you fear risk, then leave the company.”
“What?!”
“I will buy out your shares. Have your lawyers come tomorrow.”
That was the final straw.
The two partners exploded in rage—years of shared struggle, and he would tear it all apart just like that?! They began cursing loudly, the office descending into chaos. Managers from outside rushed in with Kevin to separate them.
After much effort—dragging and coaxing—Kevin finally got the two furious partners out of the company, instructing staff to escort them home safely.
“It’s all because of you, you damned punk! Ever since you joined, Sam’s mind’s gone crazy!” Ricky spat at Kevin before leaving. “I knew you were a street thug—you’re the one who corrupted him!”
“Yes, yes, take care on your way,” Kevin replied calmly, even taking the blame for sins far worse without batting an eye, closing the car door for him.
The two cars drove off in succession, kicking up dust. Kevin coughed in the rust-laden air, wiping sweat from his face before turning back toward the company.
Inside, He Chu San sat alone in the darkened office, the faint glow of the computer screen the only light.
Kevin closed the door behind him and spoke softly, “Brother Chu San, I know you’re forcing them out because you’re afraid the risk will drag them down. But if something happens to the clients’ funds—how will you answer for it?”
He Chu San rubbed his temples wearily. “I only need two days. As long as I draw out their capital, I can withdraw immediately.”
“But what if they don’t act? Or if something goes wrong…” Kevin hesitated. Having followed him this long, he understood some of the inside workings of the financial world. “Brother Chu San… are you really going to manipulate the market? The impact on ordinary investors would be devastating. My mother told me just days ago—someone in our building lost everything in stocks and their whole family jumped…”
He Chu San’s gaze turned icy. “Even you don’t trust me?”
“I do, Brother Chu San. I’m just worried about you…”
“That’s enough,” He Chu San cut him off sharply. “Leave.”
Kevin wisely fell silent and withdrew.
Left alone in the darkness, He Chu San reached out and shut down the computer. As the machine’s hum faded, he could hear his own heartbeat pounding violently.
Outside, the sunlight was brilliant and blazing—but he was cut off from it by thick curtains, unable to feel even a trace of warmth.
Xie Ying Jie’s cold, bloodthirsty gaze… the suffocating terror of nearing death… the grinding sound deep in his throat, the rush of blood in his ears—these memories circled endlessly in his mind.
Madness and killing intent clung to him like a vengeful spirit, rooting deep into his bones.
The proxy’s words burrowed through his thoughts like a worm caked in dirt, drilling cold pain into his heart:
“When a man lives too long in disguise, he forgets who he is.”
Suddenly, he shot to his feet and swept everything off the desk!
Crash!
Bang—!
“Mr. He?!” someone knocked from outside.
“Don’t come in—get out!!”
Futile Devices Scans 
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