After leaving the private screening room, Zhou Ruo An turned into a narrow alley, pulled out his phone, opened a chat window, and transferred five thousand over.
He glanced back toward the alley entrance behind him. Seeing that the narrow lane was empty, he pressed the voice message button. “The phone number is real. I’ve sent you the remaining balance. But you’d better keep this buried in your stomach—don’t go running your mouth after a few drinks.”
The other party accepted the payment instantly. A lazy male voice came through. “You don’t need to tell me that. Reselling the number of Bai Jiu’s chief steward—if word gets out, they’ll skin me alive.”
The man sounded like he’d been drinking, his tongue thick and clumsy. “Zhou’er, a small-time scammer at your level—what do you need the chief steward’s number for? There are mountains between you and him. Don’t overestimate yourself.”
Zhou Ruo An had no interest in wasting words. He cut the call off mid-sentence, then walked a few steps deeper into the alley and pushed open a gaudy door.
A small hair salon. Colored lights spun at the entrance. As soon as the door opened, cold wind slipped in through the gap. The women inside were dressed in revealing clothes—one shivered before swaying her hips as she walked toward the door.
“Well, if it isn’t handsome Zhou?” The woman tugged her shawl aside, revealing her rounded shoulders. “So today, which head are you looking to take care of…?” Her gaze drifted downward.
Zhou Ruo An had a refined, almost scholarly appearance, but his eyes hooked like barbs as he looked the woman up and down. Smiling, he said, “Can we go to your place? I don’t want to stay outside.”
“Of course.” The woman picked up a fox-fur coat hanging behind the door. “I’ve been craving a taste of you for a while, little brother. Finally figured things out, have you?”
Zhou Ruo An thoughtfully helped her into the coat, then leaned close to her golden earrings, breathing softly against her ear. “It’s not too late, is it?”
The woman’s brows lifted as she hooked a finger under his chin. “For a face like yours, darling—everything you say is right from now on.”
Bodies pressed together, flesh against flesh, the woman nestled into Zhou Ruo An’s arms as they walked through the long, narrow alley. The winter sunlight was pale, its glow thin and dull—no matter how bright a smile was, it seemed to drain a few degrees of warmth from it.
When Zhou Ruo An saw Lin Yi, he was standing at the alley entrance, sheltered from the wind, facing the sunlight. His expression was blank—like the face of a dead man.
“Waiting for me?” Zhou Ruo An asked.
Earlier, the two of them had watched the recording and parted ways outside the shop, each heading home. Before leaving, Zhou Ruo An had glanced at Lin Yi’s crotch—it looked no different than usual, calm and unresponsive.
At the time, Zhou Ruo An had wanted to make a teasing remark, but his legs had clenched together as he realized his own body hadn’t reacted either. While watching, he had thought of Zhang Jin more often than anything else—no wonder there’d been no response.
Lin Yi’s gaze swept over the woman first, then over the way their bodies leaned into each other, before finally settling on Zhou Ruo An’s face.
“I wasn’t waiting for you. Just standing out of the wind for a smoke.”
They were only a few steps apart—by the time the words were spoken, they were already face to face. The alley was narrow; Zhou Ruo An brushed past Lin Yi’s shoulder as he walked by. As they crossed, he said softly, “Then I’ll head back first.”
The other party said nothing; his fingers were empty as well, no cigarette between them. Zhou Ruo An glanced back once and felt that winter truly was desolate—someone like Lin Yi, who carried a natural air of menace, now even seemed to show a trace of loneliness.
The woman also turned to look, her gaze sticking to the tall figure. “I heard you and Lin Yi are close? Introduce him to me sometime. If he comes, I’ll even take a loss.”
Zhou Ruo An blinked. “Huh?” He laughed. “Why the special treatment?”
The woman turned back, giggling. “I’m craving his body. He looks like the type who won’t budge no matter what, so of course I’d treat him better.”
Zhou Ruo An thought again of Lin Yi’s state earlier and mused inwardly—craving him would be useless; it was just for show.
The two of them entered, and Zhou Ruo An shut off the light with a snap.
Before the woman could ask, he explained, “It’s more atmospheric this way. I like it.”
They stumbled into the bedroom in an embrace. The woman was pushed onto the bed. After a flurry of rustling sounds, she suddenly let out a sharp scream.
Then came the sound of someone tumbling off the bed, followed by hurried footsteps scrambling out of the bedroom in the dark.
Amid the scattered noise, there came a helpless sigh. Then the living room light was switched on with a slap.
Under the sudden brightness, Zhou Ruo An stood by the entrance door, arms folded across his chest, fully dressed.
Using the light from the living room, the woman glanced back at the bedroom, then strode over in a few quick steps and slapped Zhou Ruo An hard across the face.
“You bastard Zhou, what the hell were you thinking? You tricked me into sleeping with someone who’s practically dying?”
Ever since Lin Yi had been backing him, Zhou Ruo An hadn’t been hit in a long time. He rubbed his cheek and began apologizing. “Sorry, sis. My buddy just had this one wish—he came to me for help. I couldn’t exactly refuse, right?”
“So to help your ‘buddy,’ you’re fine risking the one down there?”
The woman suddenly raised her knee and drove it hard into Zhou Ruo An’s groin!
“Fuck.” Pain flooded Zhou Ruo An’s vision, black spots bursting before his eyes as cold sweat broke out across his body. He bent forward, bracing himself against the wall.
“Pay up.” The woman pulled up her payment QR code and shoved it in his face. “Two thousand.”
Zhou Ruo An was usually the one shoving QR codes in other people’s faces. Now that it was his turn, he didn’t feel wronged—it was what he deserved.
After paying, the old door slammed shut with a loud bang. Once the worst of the pain subsided, Zhou Ruo An dragged a chair over and slowly sat down beside Zhang Jin’s bed.
“How did you get found out?” The man who’d just had his manhood nearly crushed sounded irritated. “Didn’t I tell you to wear more layers up top so you’d look a bit fuller?”
Zhang Jin lay on the bed, staring straight up at the ceiling.
There was lipstick smeared at the corner of his lips; at a glance, he looked like a vengeful ghost with its tongue hanging out.
Zhou Ruo An let some of his irritation go and awkwardly asked, “So… just now… did you at least get a taste of it?”
Zhang Jin’s eyelashes seemed to tremble—perhaps they did, perhaps they didn’t. He remained in the same position. Just when Zhou Ruo An thought he wouldn’t answer, he spoke. “With this body of mine… it’s already ruined.”
Zhou Ruo An’s brows furrowed for only a moment before smoothing out. He took out a pack of cigarettes and asked casually, “Want a smoke, or a drink?”
“I know what the truth is.” Zhang Jin suddenly said.
Zhou Ruo An’s fingers tightened around the cigarette pack. Slowly, he looked at the frail figure on the bed. There was indeed something he had been hiding from Zhang Jin—
The true cause of Zhang Yu Ting’s death had, in fact, only been an accident.
The cigarette pack crinkled faintly under pressure. Zhou Ruo An asked in a low voice, “What do you know?”
Zhang Jin struggled to sit up, leaning against the headboard in a half-reclined position. He turned the desk lamp to its brightest setting and twisted the lamp head to face Zhou Ruo An directly.
“The truth is this—if I give you my identity and let you become the Zhou family’s young master, you won’t keep your promise to avenge me. You’ll only enjoy the feeling of standing above others, looking down on those beneath you.”
Zhang Jin curled his lips into a faint smile. “Zhou Ruo An, you’re a petty man. By then, you’ll forget me entirely—let alone any promises.”
“I’ll remember…”
“You won’t!”
Zhang Jin seemed to summon strength from nowhere. He suddenly grabbed Zhou Ruo An by the collar and dragged him forward. “I’ve seen too many times the way you betray your word. I’ve seen the worst, most despicable side of you.”
His fingers, like dry branches, twisted into Zhou Ruo An’s collar as he ordered, “Take out your phone.”
Zhou Ruo An’s expression darkened. “What are you doing?”
“Take it out!”
Zhang Jin was nearly hysterical now, the whites of his eyes veined with red. Zhou Ruo An stared at him for a moment, then slowly took out his phone.
“Pull up your payment QR code.”
“…Fine.”
The chaotic black-and-white pattern of the QR code reflected in Zhang Jin’s bloodshot eyes. He released one hand, picked up his own phone, and with a soft ding, scanned it.
The next moment, Zhou Ruo An received a transfer of 15.86. Looking at the uneven amount, he asked, “What is this supposed to mean?”
Zhang Jin seemed to have exhausted all his strength. He released his grip and fell back onto the bed. “That’s everything I had left after buying the grave. Now it’s all yours.”
Zhou Ruo An tugged at the corner of his mouth. “An inheritance? No need.”
“It’s not a gift.” Zhang Jin stared straight into Zhou Ruo An’s eyes. “It’s a transaction.”
“You take my money, you do what I ask. I’ll cooperate and help you become the Zhou family’s young master—but you have to fulfill our deal. Either cheat those people out of all their money and trample them underfoot, or send them down to meet me with a packet of rat poison each.”
“Zhang Jin…”
The frail man slowly lay back on the bed. Even speaking seemed to cost him effort now; his voice barely slipped out. “I’ve seen too many times how you betray people… but I’ve also seen you search for a blind old woman’s cat for five yuan in the dead of winter. You nearly froze to death doing it.”
Zhang Jin let out a faint laugh. “Though afterward, you pocketed two eggs from her, boiled them, and ate them right in front of me—smacking your lips while you did.”
He turned over slowly, facing away from Zhou Ruo An. “I don’t trust your character—but I trust your sense for deals. Miss one job, and you’ll stay poor for life.”
Zhou Ruo An’s brows tightened slightly. He slowly pulled a cigarette from the crumpled pack, lit it, and took a few measured drags. After a long moment of thought, he pressed the half-smoked cigarette out against Zhang Jin’s battered alarm clock.
“Deal,” he said. Then added, “But you know I’m just a rat in the gutter. Whether I can stir up trouble in a different environment… that’s another matter. Still, I’ll do my best. If I fail, I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself. No matter where you are, you’ll still be a scumbag.”
Zhou Ruo An laughed and cursed under his breath. He turned off the desk lamp and headed for the door. Just as he reached the bedroom entrance, a ghostlike voice spoke from behind him.
“Zhou Ruo An… if it were you, would you forgive Zhang Yu Ting?”
The man paused for a moment. Then he answered clearly, “No. I would never forgive someone who abandoned me.”
The door closed, cutting off all light.
Half a month later, Zhang Jin passed away.
The grave he bought was far away, surrounded on all sides by farmland, with nothing much in the way of scenery.
The photo on the tombstone showed him smiling, his cheeks full—nothing like the skeletal face he had at the end.
Zhou Ruo An tossed two paper effigies of women into the incinerator, then dusted off his clothes and sat down heavily atop Zhang Jin’s grave. Leaning back against the stone, he dialed a number.
“Who is this?”
The call connected. A deep, mature male voice carried through the cold wind sweeping across the cemetery. Zhou Ruo An tilted his head, looking at the photograph on the tombstone, and spoke calmly:
“Mr. Zhou Jing Tao, is it? I’m Zhang Yu Ting’s son… Zhou Ruo An.”
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Futile Devices Scans 
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