Lu Guang Ming got off the bus in front of the ICAC building and walked straight to a roadside trash bin. From his pocket, he took out the handkerchief that had been with him for days—and threw it inside.
During the meeting, he remained absent-minded. His superior, Chief Investigator Xu, glanced at him several times. A colleague beside him nudged him with an elbow, unable to bear it any longer. He snapped back to awareness, shot the colleague a listless look, then drifted off again.
Chief Investigator Xu noticed his distraction and simply chose not to assign him any work. Lu Guang Ming did not mind. After the meeting, he returned to his desk and sat there, dispirited.
No one paid him any attention. Everyone had their own tasks. The Earth kept spinning; billions of people came and went—no one cared about his joys or sorrows.
After work, he was still the last to leave, turning off the lights and locking the door. Passing the trash bin in front of the ICAC building, expressionless, he boarded the last bus home. The bus had barely gone half a street when it stopped at a corner—he suddenly grabbed his briefcase, jumped off, and ran back, breathless.
He flipped open the trash bin lid and rummaged frantically. The stench hit him full force. He searched and searched but could not find it. In frustration, he overturned the entire bin. Passersby covered their noses and pointed at him, only to be met with his fierce glare.
“What are you looking at?! ICAC investigation!”
But in the end, he still could not find it.
He had been the one to throw it away.
Back home, he lay on his bed, holding up his brick phone, staring at Xie Jia Hua’s number for a long time. Several times, he almost pressed delete—but in the end, he did not.
Somewhere deep down, he felt that once deleted, it would be like that discarded handkerchief—lost forever in the vast world.
He changed Xie Jia Hua’s contact name from “Big Sweet Potato” to “Fool.” The English name immediately sank into the depths of the contact list. He searched for it again and added “0_” in front—instantly pushing it to the very top.
The Fool in Tarot represents “the Fool (愚者)”—symbolizing strength and the burden of moving forward. Among the 22 Major Arcana, it is numbered 0, yet also 22—both the beginning and the end, representing infinite possibilities.
And it also represented their relationship—ended the very moment it began.
……
A week later, Lu Guang Ming received news: He Chu San, acting hall master of Xiao Qi Hall, had his coup exposed and was dragged to the ancestral hall for punishment. After suffering two stab wounds, he was rescued by Master Qiao of the He Yi Society and thereafter defected to Master Qiao’s side.
Everything had gone according to He Chu San’s plan—except that he had truly stabbed himself. Risking one’s life for love—Lu Guang Ming could not help but admire him.
Some time later, He Chu San had his assistant Kevin contact him, passing along a set of crucial evidence: Master Qiao had instructed He Chu San to handle operations for a finance company. Upon investigation, He Chu San suspected that although the company was registered under another name, it was actually laundering money for Xie Ying Jie. He transferred the evidence to Lu Guang Ming, hoping the ICAC could use its resources to pursue the matter further.
This was the first time Lu Guang Ming had directly obtained evidence related to Xie Ying Jie.
After careful consideration, he chose to submit the evidence to Chief Investigator Xu and request a formal case filing.
He had been in the ICAC for three years. He had shamelessly flattered Chief Investigator Xu, only to be left on the sidelines for over half a year. Later, after discovering key clues while organizing files and helping solve major cases, he was finally transferred into the Operations Division. Colleagues mocked him for scrambling for credit and currying favor, claiming Chief Investigator Xu favored him—but Lu Guang Ming knew clearly that Chief Investigator Xu had no particular liking for him. He treated him neither warmly nor coldly, only signing his promotion report last year because of his repeated contributions.
And precisely because of that, Lu Guang Ming trusted Chief Investigator Xu’s character—just like he trusted Xie Jia Hua’s. A man unmoved by flattery, impartial, and upright.
He chose to trust Chief Investigator Xu.
Chief Investigator Xu did not betray that trust. After receiving the materials, although he harshly reprimanded Lu Guang Ming for conducting unauthorized investigations, he still assigned personnel to assist him.
What Lu Guang Ming had not expected was that Chief Investigator Xu had always held high hopes for him. His secrecy, recklessness, unscrupulous methods, and guarded nature—pushing everyone away—deeply disappointed Chief Investigator Xu. After a severe scolding, Chief Investigator Xu drove him out of the office.
He returned to his desk in a daze. Around him, colleagues still glanced at him out of the corners of their eyes.
Was he wrong?
Was it everyone rejecting him—or was he the one rejecting the entire world?
……
He went to a bar.
Under the numbing haze of alcohol, glass after glass, he felt unprecedented confusion, disorientation, and loneliness.
He had thought his life was a one-man performance—a monologue on a dark stage, singing and raging for hatred and remembrance. Only now did he realize it might all have been absurd self-indulgence.
He had never stepped onto the stage. He had been wandering backstage all along.
The ones truly carrying burdens, seeking truth, were Xie Jia Hua and He Chu San—people who had deeply loved and been loved. In everyone else’s story, he was merely a passerby forcing himself into the narrative—masked, suspicious, afraid, out of place.
Only now did he realize:
He missed Tang Jia Qi.
He envied Tang Jia Qi.
He resented Xie Jia Hua.
He envied Xie Jia Hua.
They had found each other—two souls bound together, walking side by side for their beliefs. Even life and death could not tear them apart.
He drank until he passed out.
In his haze, he saw Xie Jia Hua—and his own past self ten years ago.
At fifteen, he had been immature, stubborn, introverted—clinging desperately to the budding feelings in his heart, developing a possessiveness he himself did not understand, yet never daring to reveal even a trace of affection.
He knew Jia Qi liked someone. Jia Qi came less often for volunteer work, smiled more than usual, stared enviously at couples holding hands.
He knew that person’s name was A’Ward.
“A’Ward is in the Major Crimes Unit… his father was your father’s partner… maybe he can find clues…”
“A’Ward is very capable… he caught three thieves alone…”
“Mingzi, your drawing is beautiful—A’Ward studied art too…”
“I’m going fishing with A’Ward tomorrow…”
“Mingzi, I saw this photo at A’Ward’s house…”
He did not recognize the people in the photo.
But he could not let go of one sentence:
“I saw this at A’Ward’s house.”
You’ve already been to his house?
Did you spend the whole night together?
Do you really like men?
Have you fallen in love with him?
He could not ask any of it.
The pain pierced like needles. Without warning, he lashed out at Jia Qi, using some trivial excuse long forgotten. They argued. He shouted:
“Get out!”
Jia Qi looked hurt and confused—but, gentle as always, did not argue back. He simply left.
“Mingzi, calm down. I’ll come see you next week.”
“Don’t come back! I don’t need your kindness!”
The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them.
He chased after him—running after the bus Jia Qi boarded, breathless for an entire hour. He lost him—but he knew where Jia Qi would go.
To the bar he often visited.
Because in sorrow, one seeks their closest friend.
He saw that man—tall, handsome, still in uniform, standing straight, smiling warmly.
What could a stubborn, awkward boy like him possibly compare with that?
He saw Jia Qi, drunk, kiss the man.
The man looked shocked, at a loss.
Jia Qi flushed red and fled—only to run into him at the bar entrance.
“Mingzi? What are you doing here?”
He shoved him away violently.
“Go away! I never want to see you again!”
Go back to your light.
Go date him.
Go love someone worthy.
Go be loved.
Go be happy.
A world without me—without darkness. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.
Jia Qi truly left.
They never met again.
……
Tears soaked the pillow silently as he cried in his half-conscious state.
A warm embrace wrapped around him.
A rough yet gentle hand wiped the tears from his swollen eyes.
“Sleep. We’re all tired. Sleep,” the voice said softly.
Futile Devices Scans 
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