Futile Devices Scans

“Zhou Ruo An, are you fucking insane?”

A private screening room had recently opened in the urban village. A single room cost fifty yuan—officially for watching movies, but in reality, once the door was shut, you could do whatever you pleased.

There was a discount for membership cards, with an extra half hour added. Bai Ban had treated Lin Yi and Zhou Ruo An to a movie. He had just finished getting the card and pushed open the private room door, only to see the two who had entered first already locked in a scuffle.

He was used to this scene—those two fought like dogs biting each other. No matter how vicious they got, when something happened, they would immediately unite against outsiders. And they made up just as quickly—Zhou Ruo An handing Lin Yi a cigarette, or Lin Yi silently edging closer to Zhou Ruo An. The next moment, they would be as close as ever, practically wearing the same pair of pants, hopping along together like they shared legs.

Bai Ban was a little excited. Running his hand over the brand-new giant screen TV, his eyes gleamed mischievously. “Stop arguing, stop arguing—I found some good stuff. I already gave the source to the boss; he’ll play it for us any second.”

“Bai Ban, step outside. I have something to say to Lin Yi.” Zhou Ruo An’s face held no trace of a smile; his voice was cold.

The screen had already begun displaying the opening credits. Bai Ban plopped down in the center seat. “Watch the movie first—you two can argue later.”

“Lu Yao, get out first.”

Few people remembered Bai Ban’s real name. The last time it had been used was when he’d been summoned by the police station. Hearing it now made his heart skip a beat. He stared blankly at Lin Yi.

Something was off.

Bai Ban glanced again at the two men locked in a standoff, then stood up and walked toward the door. As it slowly closed, he said softly through the narrowing gap, “Brother Zhou, do you have cigarettes? If it’s time to give my bro one, just give it. Between you two, it’s nothing to lose face over.”

Zhou Ruo An muttered a low “fuck,” pulled out Lin Yi’s cigarettes, and tossed them toward the door. The heavy soundproof door shut with a thud.

The opening credits ended. On the giant screen, a woman in a red dress appeared. She slipped off her high heels, hooking them around a pair of suit trousers with her foot, teasing flirtatiously.

The new sofa still carried the scent of leather. Zhou Ruo An leaned back against it, tilting his head to look at Lin Yi standing before him. “At first, even Zhang Jin thought I was joking. But you believed me right away.”

“Zhou Ruo An, I know what you look like when you’re greedy.”

“Yeah. You’ve seen this side of me more than anyone, so I won’t hide it from you—I want Zhang Jin’s identity. I want to become the Zhou family’s young master.”

The new sofa in the screening room could recline halfway. Lin Yi braced one arm against the backrest and slowly leaned closer. “Let me remind you—you’re not one of those kids kicking balls by the roadside anymore. You’re past the age where you can still dream. Impersonation, ‘real and fake young masters’—that kind of cliché belongs in TV dramas. Don’t fucking see someone else’s fine pants and think you can just wear them. You might end up losing your balls in the process.”

Zhou Ruo An let out a low laugh. “Lin Yi, you’re getting cruder by the day.” He turned his head to glance at the giant screen—the woman was now trapped in the man’s embrace, oddly mirroring his own situation.

He shoved Lin Yi away. “Someone else’s pants don’t fit? Do you think the skin I’m wearing now fits me comfortably? From the time I was little until now, I’ve never worn clothes that truly fit.”

“What’s wrong with me wanting Zhang Jin’s identity? I didn’t rob him, cheat him, or trick him out of it. He simply doesn’t have the fortune to bear it. If I pick up that skin and wear it instead, what of it?”

Lin Yi had never thought Zhou Ruo An childish. At such a young age, he was already a seasoned schemer—no one would ever associate him with the word “innocent.”

But today, Lin Yi found himself reassessing him. In those slightly upturned eyes, there was not only naked greed, but also a disturbingly twisted obsession.

“Have you had this idea for a long time? To replace him?”

“What, going to lecture me about how evil I am? Do you even have the right, Lin Yi?” Zhou Ruo An’s expression slowly turned cold. “Replace him? I’ve thought about it before—just not often. I know I’m past the age of dreaming. But yesterday, Zhang Yu Ting died, and the Zhou family doesn’t even know Zhang Jin exists. Suddenly, I realized… I might actually be able to wear that skin.”

On the screen, the man and woman were already entwined, bodies pressed together in a blur of pale flesh.

Lin Yi watched the shifting light and shadow across Zhou Ruo An’s face and gave the answer Zhou Ruo An least wanted to hear: “You won’t succeed.”

“That woman is dead—do you think that means everything’s settled? Bloodline, genes, age—which of these can you fake just because you want to?”

He suddenly gripped Zhou Ruo An’s jaw, lowering his gaze to that thin, sharply defined pair of lips. “That mouth of yours is eloquent, sure—but do you think a single tongue is enough to convince everyone you’re of the Zhou family’s bloodline? Stop dreaming, Zhou Ruo An. The moment your lies fall apart and the truth comes out, do you know what will happen? The Zhou family isn’t to be trifled with. People like them have money and connections—they can throw a fake like you, a fraud, into prison in the blink of an eye.”

The sounds from the screen grew louder, muffling the crude, breathy noises beneath. Lin Yi’s grip on Zhou Ruo An’s jaw tightened further. “You think you’re standing in the clouds—but in the next instant, you’ll be slammed straight back into the mud.”

“Am I not already in the mud?” Zhou Ruo An suddenly straightened his back, pressing forward against the force as he moved closer to Lin Yi. Each word he spoke landed like a hammer. “I’ve been wrapped in filth my whole life. So what if everything falls apart? I’ve got nothing to lose—I’ve already been dealt the worst hand. Why would I be afraid of losing the gamble?”

Lin Yi’s gaze darkened. After a moment of silence, he slowly released his grip. “If I can’t talk you out of it, then do whatever you want.”

He had been leaning over Zhou Ruo An the entire time. As he stood up, the sofa creaked, its sound oddly blending with the noise of the wooden bed shaking from the television.

But the next moment, Zhou Ruo An grabbed him back. “Lin Yi, you have to help me.”

In his haste, Zhou Ruo An misjudged his strength, nearly pulling them into each other.

Their breaths collided, brushing faintly hot against Zhou Ruo An. He instinctively leaned back, but the back of his head was already against the sofa—there was nowhere left to retreat.

And just as coincidentally, Lin Yi didn’t move away either.

Zhou Ruo An needed his help, so he didn’t push him away. His voice softened. “Lin Yi, I’ve already thought through everything you mentioned. It’s troublesome, sure—but not impossible. If you help me, there’s a chance I can succeed.”

It seemed Lin Yi had never looked at Zhou Ruo An from this close before. His gaze traced over that face inch by inch, not even missing the faint mole at the tail of his brow.

Then he said, “I won’t help.”

Zhou Ruo An frowned slightly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “Are you jealous that I have this opportunity?”

Before he even finished speaking, Lin Yi pulled away.

“Brother— I mean, Lin Yi, I was wrong.” Zhou Ruo An followed after him, taking Lin Yi’s hand and pressing it against his own right wrist. “Right here—Bai Jiu touched this spot yesterday too.”

Lin Yi stiffened.

“He shook my hand and rubbed this patch of skin with his thumb several times. You’re a man—you understand what that means, don’t you?” There was a trace of bleakness in Zhou Ruo An’s eyes. “Lin Yi, we’re both ants trampled underfoot. Those people above us can grind us down however they like. If that pervert Bai Jiu sets his sights on me, what do you think will happen to me? By the end of it, I might not even count as filth anymore.”

“But if I become the Zhou family’s young master, would he still dare to touch me? If you were the young master’s friend, would he still treat you like some lackey? Lin Yi—we need to become people above others, stand higher than them—so high that we can crush them under our feet whenever we want.”

Long, strong fingers brushed lightly through Zhou Ruo An’s hair—then suddenly tightened, forcing his chin upward.

Lin Yi revealed his first smile of the night. “Zhou Ruo An, truth and lies, illusion and reality—you’ve always been good at that. You’ve been by my side for three years. Don’t try those tricks on me.”

He showed no mercy; Zhou Ruo An’s scalp burned with pain from the force.

“Don’t believe me?” Zhou Ruo An said. “Then I’ll show you the evidence.”

Zhou Ruo An took out his phone from his pocket, opened the call log, and pointed at a number. “This is the phone number of someone close to Bai Jiu. He called me last night and said Master Bai wanted to invite me for a drink. I brushed it off with an excuse. Lin Yi, do you think after I turned down Master Bai, I’ll still have an easy time ahead?”

“Oh, right—you don’t believe me, do you? Then call this number right now and see whether I’m telling the truth.”

Lin Yi stared at the string of digits, his expression darkening. He released Zhou Ruo An’s hair, took out his own phone, entered the number, and—while looking straight into Zhou Ruo An’s eyes—pressed the call button.

Before long, the call connected. The voice on the other end was languid, yet carried a vicious edge. “Who is this?”

Lin Yi’s brows furrowed sharply. After a brief pause, he said, “It’s me—Lin Yi.”

“Lin Yi? Oh, that young guy fighting in the arena? Why the hell are you calling me?”

“I just wanted to ask when I should report to Master Bai.”

“For that, contact Old Cui. I only handle Master Bai’s personal matters.”

With a sharp click, the call was cut off.

Lin Yi held the phone to his ear for a long moment, only lowering it slowly after the screen went dark.

Straightening up, he sat down on the sofa beside him. Amid the distorted moans coming from the screen, he asked slowly, “How do you want me to help you?”

Zhou Ruo An’s eyes lit up. He stood, walked to the door, and picked up the cigarette pack from the floor. Turning back, he crouched in front of Lin Yi and handed him a cigarette.

There was a lighter in the pack. Zhou Ruo An flicked it open and brought the flame forward. “At the Provincial Paternity Testing Consultation Center, find someone who can directly access the blood samples. Use your methods to set them up—drag them into it.”

Lin Yi didn’t light the cigarette. The small flame flickered and died on its own. “There’s more than one institution in the province capable of DNA testing. I don’t have the ability to set up a honey trap for every single one.”

Zhou Ruo An struck the lighter again. “We’ll pick the closest and the largest one. If the Zhou family goes somewhere else, then I’ll admit I’m unlucky and come back to being mud.”

After a moment of consideration, Lin Yi leaned forward and lit his cigarette. “You’re going to use Zhang Jin’s blood sample? Will he give it to you?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Fine.” Lin Yi removed the cigarette from his lips, lifting his gaze through the lingering smoke. “Then how are you going to repay me?”

“If I manage to establish myself, then you’ll also—”

“Not enough.”

On the screen, the woman’s legs lifted and swayed in the air. Lin Yi glanced once before looking away, then leaned forward, closing the distance until he was very close to Zhou Ruo An.

Zhou Ruo An felt slightly uneasy. Lin Yi’s proximity, combined with the sounds from the screen, made him faintly uncomfortable. Pressing his lips together, he asked, “Then what do you want?”

The hand holding the cigarette suddenly lifted. “Don’t move—there’s something on your face.”

Rough fingertips brushed the end of his brow, pressing lightly over the faint mole hidden there, then sliding away. Lin Yi raised his hand again and took another drag of the cigarette. “I haven’t decided yet. I’ll ask you when I have.”

Zhou Ruo An let out a quiet “Mm.” “As long as it’s something I have, it’s yours.”

Seeing that Lin Yi said nothing more, he stood and returned to his seat beside him, staring at the screen. “Still watching?”

Lin Yi gave a low hum, his gaze lowered. “Let it play.”

The two of them sat side by side in silence, shifting light and shadow flickering across their faces. The room was filled with soft, indistinct sounds—until the end, they had even forgotten to call Bai Ban back in.

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