Futile Devices Scans

Zhou Ruo An saw Zhou Jing Tao for the second time—this time, through a video call.

In the conference room, the three brothers of the Zhou family sat around the table. On the large screen before them, the man was busy handling work. Ten minutes passed, and the only sound transmitted through the speakers was the soft scratch of pen against paper, forcibly filling their ears.

The pen paused, its cap twisted back on. The man on the screen finally lifted his head and looked at his three sons.

Money was sometimes a mysterious thing. Though Zhou Jing Tao was already past fifty, and his appearance could only be called ordinary, once the word “wealthy” was added, he seemed to carry an air of mature charm.

After briefly scanning his sons, he got straight to the point. “The year-end is approaching. There are many relationships that need to be maintained—you will represent me in handling them. Don’t underestimate this. These connections will become your own network and resources in the future.”

“Zhou Bin, Zhou Zhe—you’ve handled some of this before, though only a small portion. This year I won’t be home, so these matters…” The man on the screen glanced toward Zhou Ruo An, who sat in the corner. “…you two take Ruo An along. Let him meet more people—he shouldn’t remain a stranger to everyone.”

Zhou Bin snorted. The string of prayer beads in Zhou Zhe’s hand stilled for a moment. Only Zhou Ruo An rose respectfully and said, “Father, rest assured—I will learn well from my elder brothers.”

No one paid him any attention. Zhou Jing Tao waved a hand casually for him to sit. “Speaking of maintaining relationships—who will deliver the holiday gift to Jin Hui this year?”

At the mention of that name, Zhou Bin and Zhou Zhe simultaneously leaned back into their chairs.

It was resistance.

Silence lingered for a moment. Zhou Zhe, who had been rolling his beads, tapped his fingers lightly on the table and said in a low voice, “Eldest brother, didn’t Father say Ruo An should meet more people? Old Master Jin is highly respected—if fourth brother doesn’t know him, that might be inappropriate.”

At this prompt, Zhou Bin suddenly brightened. “Father, let Fourth Brother deliver the gift to Old Master Jin this year. He can familiarize himself with both the place and the people. Who knows—perhaps a gift even the first and second branches can’t deliver, our fourth brother might manage to get through.”

Zhou Zhe clasped his beads, his expression full of brotherly goodwill. “Fourth Brother, if Old Master Jin accepts your gift, you’ll make quite a name for yourself in the Zhou family. Maybe at this year’s New Year’s Eve dinner, Second Uncle will even have you sit beside him.”

The Zhou family had three branches. The eldest branch’s Zhou Ran Ming—the “Second Uncle” Zhou Zhe referred to—currently held the position of chairman of the board, and was thus regarded as the head of the family.

Every year at the New Year’s Eve dinner, he reserved the seat beside him for the most outstanding junior of the Zhou family. That seat was coveted by all the younger generation—it represented recognition and attention, and signified the first step onto the ladder of power.

But that seat had only ever been occupied by members of the first and second branches. The third branch had never had a chance.

Thus, for Zhou Bin and Zhou Zhe, the most unbearable moment each year—without exception—was that family dinner.

In Zhou Jing Tao’s eyes, if even the first and second branches could not deliver the gift, then the weaker third branch certainly couldn’t. So he simply left them with, “Discuss it among yourselves,” before ending the video call.

As soon as the meeting ended, Zhou Bin stood up first. With his hands in his pockets, he strolled over to Zhou Ruo An, bending slightly with an air of superiority. “Zhou Ruo An, put some effort into delivering that gift to the old man. Our third branch is counting on you to bring us some face.”

After patting Zhou Ruo An’s shoulder twice, he swaggered out of the conference room.

Zhou Zhe followed, leaning in with a kindly reminder. “Fourth Brother, don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Old Master Jin was grandfather’s close friend—his temper is a bit odd. It’s normal if the gift doesn’t get accepted. Last year, Eldest Brother stood outside his house in the wind and snow for over an hour, only to fail to deliver the gift and get scolded instead. Eldest Brother loves to joke—he always says the last gift he’ll give Old Master Jin will be a good one. Do you know what he means?”

Zhou Zhe bent down, whispering into Zhou Ruo An’s ear with a smile, “An urn.”

He patted Zhou Ruo An’s shoulder twice more before leaving.

Now alone in the conference room, Zhou Ruo An crossed his legs and looked toward the empty doorway. “Zhou Zhe—you want me to spread your words and kill with a borrowed knife… but that only works if I’m willing to be that knife.”

Jin Hui, though well past seventy, remained as vigorous as ever. After seeing off his daily visiting doctor, he dressed neatly and headed out.

One elevator served seventy to eighty households. It took Old Master Jin a full ten minutes to catch one. It stopped at every floor before finally reaching the ground level. He extended his telescopic cane and pushed open the old building’s entrance.

Just as he stepped down the stairs, he heard a rather impolite voice. “Old man, are you Jin Hui?”

Following the voice, he saw a young man leaning against the window of a large truck, holding what looked like a checklist. With a lazy wave of his hand, he said, “I’m here to deliver your gift. Come sign for it—once you do, my job’s done.”

Old Master Jin frowned deeply. “Who are you? Speaking so rudely.”

“I’m Zhou Ruo An from the third branch of the Zhou family. It’s our first time meeting—you not recognizing me is normal.”

“The third branch… Zhou Jing Tao is your—”

“My father. I’m his illegitimate son, just recently acknowledged and returned to the family.” Zhou Ruo An jumped down from the truck and leaned against it, speaking casually. “Delivering this gift probably isn’t a pleasant job, so they pushed it onto me.”

“As expected—Zhou Jing Tao can’t produce anything decent. Take your gift back. I won’t accept it.”

“If you don’t accept it,” Zhou Ruo An said lazily, “I’ll break your cane.”

Jin Hui had spent a lifetime navigating the business world, skilled in maneuvering and strategy. No matter how fierce the competition behind the scenes, everything was handled with outward civility. He had never encountered such blunt, rogue-like tactics.

He stared at the young man in disbelief and struck his cane heavily against the ground. “You dare?”

Zhou Ruo An looked at the old man whose voice rang out like a bell, and for no reason at all, he thought of Old Man Ding, who had raised him. He smiled faintly, a trace of warmth softening his eyes. “Of course I wouldn’t dare.”

“Though I was born to Zhou Jing Tao, I’m not that much of a scumbag. Just a joke—don’t take it seriously.”

Old Master Jin still frowned deeply. He waved his hand. “Hurry up and leave. Don’t stand here being an eyesore.”

“Aren’t you going to take a look at the gift I brought?”

Zhou Ruo An walked to the back of the truck. Despite Old Master Jin’s firm “No,” he pulled open the metal shutter of the cargo compartment.

The entire truck was filled with sports equipment—just footballs and volleyballs alone numbered in the hundreds.

Old Master Jin tapped one of the badminton rackets with his cane. “This is the gift you brought me?”

“Since you won’t accept anything anyway, it’s better to pass these on to people who actually need them.” Zhou Ruo An picked up a football, weighing it lightly in his hand. “Kids in the urban village patch their balls over and over again, only for them to break again. If they could get something like this as a New Year’s gift, they’d be smiling even in their dreams.”

He raised the gift list in his hand. “Old Master, show a little kindness—sign this, and it’ll count as redistributing wealth.”

The loose skin on Old Master Jin’s face twitched as he let out a cold laugh. “Just this bit of cleverness? Trying to morally coerce me?”

Zhou Ruo An sighed helplessly. “So you won’t sign?”

“I won’t.”

With a soft click of his tongue, Zhou Ruo An gestured toward the distance. Immediately, a van parked by the roadside slid open its door, and more than a dozen children poured out, rushing over in a lively swarm.

Zhou Ruo An pointed at Old Master Jin. “This grandpa is the one giving you these gifts.”

The children erupted in excitement, surrounding Old Master Jin—hugging his legs, his waist, his arms—chattering nonstop in thanks like a flock of newly hatched chicks.

Jin Hui had never married and had no children or grandchildren. He had never encountered such a scene. At a loss, he instinctively cast a look of help toward Zhou Ruo An.

Zhou Ruo An raised the list again. “Grandpa Jin, if you sign this, you’ll fulfill their wishes—and help me as well. I grew up in the urban village, just like them. As a child, I never even had a ball of my own. Now that I’ve entered the Zhou family, I’m surrounded by danger on all sides. If you accept this gift, I can borrow your prestige to steady my footing—so I won’t be swallowed alive so quickly.”

Zhou Ruo An played his tricks, but his words were laid bare. Within his scheming, there was a trace of sincerity—enough that even if you wanted to curse him, you’d hesitate.

Old Master Jin fell silent. He looked at the goods in the truck, then down at the cluster of children. Slowly, he raised the hand not holding his cane and gently rested it atop the slightly dull hair of a chubby boy.

“Grandpa…” the boy clinging to his leg called softly.

Old Master Jin’s body visibly trembled. A flicker of emotion stirred in his aged eyes…

It was midday—the warmest part of the day. Even in the depths of winter, when the wind softened, it carried a hint of gentleness.

Under the noon sun, Old Master Jin extended his hand toward Zhou Ruo An. “If you want me to sign,” he said, sounding somewhat annoyed, “where’s the pen?”

After signing, Old Master Jin sat on a roadside bench, handing out red envelopes to the children one by one.

“The almanac said today was unlucky, not suitable for going out—and it’s proven true. Not only did I fall into your trap today, I’ve also ended up scattering my wealth like a charity boy.”

Zhou Ruo An chuckled. “At your age, ‘boy’ doesn’t quite fit anymore. And the red envelopes—you insisted on giving them. No one could stop you.”

Old Master Jin grumbled, his expression less than pleased as he looked at Zhou Ruo An. “I said ten thousand each, and you insisted on one hundred. Do you not know how rich I am?”

He handed out another red envelope, smiling kindly as he said, “Good child.” Then he turned back to Zhou Ruo An, losing that gentle expression. Pointing toward his residence, he said, “Don’t be fooled by this old, shabby place I live in now—I actually—”

“But you own two villas on the hillside, have properties in every top-tier city, hold large amounts of stocks and securities, and maintain various investments. And right now, you still hold 30% of Shengkai’s shares.”

Zhou Ruo An leaned back against the bench, watching the children beam with joy as they received their red envelopes, and said softly, “You are rich—but you shouldn’t give them too much. Too much money won’t reach their hands anyway—it might even bring them trouble.”

Old Master Jin considered this briefly and did not lose his temper again. He looked at Zhou Ruo An. “How did you come up with this method to deal with me?”

“Want to hear the truth?” Zhou Ruo An crooked his finger. “Then give me a red envelope too.”

Old Master Jin stuffed a red envelope into his hand with a huff, only then hearing Zhou Ruo An’s words, laced with a low chuckle. “I’ve been observing you for several days.”

He pointed toward a window in the building across the street. “You possess immense wealth, yet you live in an ordinary residential building in the old district. Right next to it is an elementary school. During recess, I often see you standing by that window.”

Zhou Ruo An raised both hands, forming a makeshift telescope in front of his eyes. “Sometimes, you even crack the window open—just to hear the children laughing and playing, right?”

Old Master Jin followed Zhou Ruo An’s gaze toward his own window. “So you guessed that I like children?”

“Yes. And it seems I guessed correctly.”

“And so you staged all of this? Betting that I would soften?”

Zhou Ruo An lowered his hands and straightened slightly, looking at the old man beside him. “If you weren’t a righteous and kind person, I wouldn’t have put on this act. No matter how good the performance is, it won’t move someone selfish. I heard that for the sake of Shengkai’s old employees, you were even willing to fall out with the Zhou family. That’s why I gambled you’d soften for these children.”

Old Master Jin handed out the last red envelope. When he looked back at Zhou Ruo An this time, he didn’t withdraw his smile as before.

“I was close friends with your grandfather when we were young. Together, we founded Shengkai Foreign Trade. At the time, I invested seventy percent, and your grandfather held thirty.”

Whenever people recalled the past, their gaze inevitably grew distant. “For over twenty years after that, I served as chairman of Shengkai Foreign Trade, while your grandfather acted as my deputy. We worked well together, and the business grew larger and larger. Seven years ago, your grandfather passed away. I suddenly felt that life was short and shouldn’t be spent entirely on work. Since I had no heirs, I handed the company over to your Second Uncle to manage. He inherited part of your grandfather’s shares, and I transferred some of mine to him as well. He is now the largest shareholder of Shengkai.”

A child tossed a snowball at Zhou Ruo An. Without hesitation, Zhou Ruo An rolled an even larger one and threw it back. Only after hearing a cry of “Ouch!” did he dust the snow from his gloves and continue, “After that, he dismissed all employees over forty-five years old. Despite your efforts, you couldn’t secure the compensation they deserved—so you severed ties with the Zhou family.”

“Why did you throw that at him?” Old Master Jin asked, slightly displeased.

“To teach him boundaries.” Zhou Ruo An’s eyes carried their usual indifference. “If children from the urban village don’t learn restraint, next time what gets thrown back at them might be a stone.”

Hearing this, Old Master Jin studied Zhou Ruo An more carefully before continuing, setting aside the topic of the children. “It’s been three years. I haven’t taken a single call from Zhou Ran Ming, nor accepted a single holiday gift from your Zhou family. Yet the more I refuse, the more they send—it’s as if they’re deliberately trying to provoke me.”

“You handed over the company. Even if they have to stick their warm faces against your cold shoulder year after year, they still wouldn’t dare stop sending gifts. If they did, they’d be branded as ungrateful and heartless.”

Old Master Jin snorted. “In these past years, I’ve turned away many people, even cursed quite a few out. I didn’t expect you to succeed today.”

Zhou Ruo An stood with a smile. “You helped me, and I don’t have much to repay you with. Come on—I’ll take you somewhere fun.”

Old Master Jin was startled, a hint of hidden anticipation surfacing. “Where are we going?”

“To the urban village, to give out the gifts to the children.”

The old man immediately stood up. “Then I’ll bring more red envelopes.”

“Don’t.” Zhou Ruo An set a metal ladder against the truck’s passenger side. “That place has too many opportunists—don’t let yourself become a target.”

He patted the ladder. “The cab is high—I’ll help you up.”

Old Master Jin froze again. “You want me to climb that? Do you know how valuable my medical team considers my body?”

Zhou Ruo An tapped the ladder again. “If you’re not reckless now, then when? You’re a man of your generation—don’t be afraid. I’ll hold you.”

Old Master Jin walked over, placing one foot on the ladder. After a brief pause, he turned back. “What did you say your name was?”

The man made no attempt to hide the ambition burning in his eyes. He smiled and replied:

“Zhou Ruo An.”

Zhou Ruo An had earned merit—but it seemed he had also stirred trouble. When Zhou Bin handed him a small pill, Zhou Ruo An realized that jealousy could make people vicious.

He feigned innocence. “Big brother, what is this?”

“You’re the hero of our third branch now. Big brother’s taking you out to enjoy something good.”

The pill was tossed lightly in his palm. “A stimulant. Harmless to the body.”

Zhou Ruo An was about to refuse when Zhou Bin casually tossed one into his own mouth. Swallowing it, he leaned back into the sofa, a cigarette between his lips, glancing sideways. “Don’t act like some country bumpkin. Everyone in this circle uses it. Even your Second Brother, who chants scriptures and eats vegetarian food all day, never skips it. All your friends are here—don’t embarrass me, Fourth Brother.”

Sharing the pills was like sharing cigarettes. The well-dressed young elites in the private room seemed long accustomed to it.

Zhou Bin pushed a delicate, coquettish woman into Zhou Ruo An’s arms. “If you want to fit into the circle, the first rule is—don’t stand out as different.”

The white pill was offered to him again. After a long moment, slender fingers finally picked it up and brought it slowly to his lips. He swallowed it with water. Setting the glass down, Zhou Ruo An smiled.

“Thank you, Big Brother, for showing me the way.”

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