Futile Devices Scans

Xue Bao Tian stood at a street corner, smoking. The lonely glow of a streetlamp outlined his slender figure.

He lifted his eyelids and glanced at the group of men across the street. They were also looking at him, their eyes carrying a teasing smile.

“Fuck.” Xue Bao Tian felt irritated thinking about how cowardly he had looked just now. Zhang Chi’s indifferent line—“Want me to repay the favor?”—only made his anger flare even more.

“If you want to repay it, then get the hell in here. If you don’t, then get out. Why the hell are you asking?”

It was a pretty manly statement, but the moment he saw Zhang Chi pause to think and turn to leave, his tone changed.

“…Or maybe… you should repay it, Brother Chi? Brother Chi!”

At that moment, Zhang Chi seemed to smile, but Xue Bao Tian couldn’t see clearly. Honestly, he would rather be blind than see that kind of expression.

A few murmurs came from the doorway, followed by the sound of the door opening. The customers who had just left turned back and re-entered the restaurant. Zhang Chi walked ahead of them. Though there was no smile in his eyes, he still appeared fairly calm, as if trying to mediate: “If you have something to say, say it properly. Let him go first.”

Huang Zheng was wary of Zhang Chi’s strong build, but his calm attitude made him feel somewhat dismissive: “This is our private matter. No need for you to interfere. Next time you come eat, I’ll give you a discount. As for today, please leave.”

Zhang Chi glanced at Xue Bao Tian, seeing him being restrained by several people, his arm twisted behind his back, his face showing pain.

Last night, when Zhang Chi had pinned his arms behind his back, he had also cried out in pain, but it had been mixed with half-curses and half-complaints, like a catalyst, along with the sharp lines of his shoulder blades, stirring something intense in Zhang Chi.

Suddenly, the previously gentle man turned cold. He tilted his head slightly and glanced at the man behind him.

Receiving the signal, the man curled his lips into a playful smile, which quickly faded. He stepped forward and placed his hand on the back of a chair: “Not letting him go?”

He cast a sideways glance at Huang Zheng. Without waiting for a reply, he suddenly lifted the chair and smashed it into the boiling hotpot.

With a loud bang, hot oil and broth splashed instantly. The clash of heat and cool air produced a sharp sizzling sound. A small mushroom cloud rose from the pot, reaching nearly half a meter, before gradually dissipating. The table and floor were a mess, and red oil slowly slid down the white walls, leaving dirty streaks.

“Let him go.” The instigator rested his hand on another chair.

Huang Zheng stumbled back in fright. The chefs also turned pale. They had only signed up for a small bonus and were told it was just to beat someone, not to get beaten themselves.

Startled, their grip loosened.

With the restraints gone, Xue Bao Tian shoved away the chefs beside him and strode forward to Huang Zheng, grabbing his collar, his face full of hostility: “Huang Zheng, you don’t have the guts to touch me here. Say it—who put you up to this?” He narrowed his eyes. “Let me guess—your second brother Huang Song? When we played baccarat in Macau, I only mocked him a few times, and he’s holding a grudge?”

Huang Zheng grabbed his wrist in return, his expression twisted: “Xue Bao Tian, you probably haven’t studied much, have you? Let me teach you a phrase: you reap what you sow!”

Huang Zheng wasn’t old, but he was already balding. Xue Bao Tian gave a sinister smile: “Huang Zheng, let me teach you one too: grass grows endlessly on the plains—just not on your head.”

He pushed him away, pulled over a chair, and sat down, crossing his legs: “Huang Zheng, and you chefs, take out your phones and throw them into the pot. Then we’ll call it even. Otherwise…” He turned his head to glance at Zhang Chi and the man who smashed the chair, “…I’ll have my brothers play with you.”

“Two hundred yuan,” Zhang Chi called out softly, trying to calm things down.

Xue Bao Tian reached out and brushed his hand along Zhang Chi’s leg, lifting his gaze to look at him: “Brother Chi, they threw my phone into the pot.”

Zhang Chi felt the warmth on his leg and his brows shifted slightly: “Are there surveillance cameras?”

“To mess with me, they turned them off.”

Zhang Chi sighed and tilted his chin toward Huang Zheng and the others: “Take out your phones.”

Xue Bao Tian saw Zhang Chi walk out of a pharmacy carrying a plastic bag, slowly approaching him.

Leaning against a streetlamp pole, cigarette pinched between his fingers, he said impatiently: “What now?”

“I bought some medicine. Go home and apply it.” Zhang Chi handed the bag over.

Under the streetlight, Xue Bao Tian glanced at it but didn’t take it, instead asking: “Who were those guys?”

Zhang Chi followed his gaze and looked at the group across the street, answering simply: “Friends.”

“Bullshit!” Xue Bao Tian flicked away his cigarette. “Pick any one of them—the clothes they’re wearing, if sold, would be enough for you to earn in three years.”

Zhang Chi fell silent for a moment, then said: “They’re the bosses at my construction site. We just happened to run into each other on the street. They were going to eat, so they brought me along.”

“So they brought you out to get laid?” Xue Bao Tian asked again. “And the one who made a move—who was he?”

“The boss’s brother-in-law. His temper isn’t great.”

“Damn, I really want to hire him as my bodyguard.” Xue Bao Tian tossed his cigarette and crushed it hard. “Look at them, then look at you. You’ve got no backbone. I got screwed and didn’t even get a decent experience.”

He hooked a finger around the plastic bag in Zhang Chi’s hand: “Let’s consider the favor repaid. Stay the hell away from me. The farther, the better.”

He turned and walked toward the street corner, muttering as he went: “Every time I see you, I end up unlucky. You’re my bad luck star.”

The plastic bag was thrown into a roadside trash can. Carried by the night breeze, the word “bad luck” slowly dispersed.

All summer, Xue Bao Tian had been researching imported pharmaceutical agency deals. He wasn’t well-educated, but he had sharp business instincts. At an industry conference, he once heard an expert mention that Chinese consumers were eager for imported health products, and he began planning accordingly.

He traveled abroad for a round of investigation. Most brands in New Zealand were already under contract, but Southeast Asia was better—there were many brands, lower prices, and it was relatively easier to operate.

Tonight, Xue Bao Tian hosted a banquet for the son of a Thai pharmaceutical tycoon, hoping to open up a business channel through him. If successful, not only would there be economic benefits, but his status in the family would rise significantly, and he would no longer be overshadowed by his brother-in-law, both inside and outside the family.

The person being hosted was difficult to deal with. Although he was ethnically Chinese, he had grown up in Thailand. Coming from such a small place, he still put on an arrogant, high-and-mighty air.

Xue Bao Tian needed something from him, so he could only suppress his temper and handle things carefully. That man also brought along a friend. Although he was just an insignificant office director, he carried himself with steady composure, flawless in manner.

At first, it seemed like the two were supporting each other, praising each other, and getting along very well. But unexpectedly, that bastard who grew up in Thailand actually teamed up with others to mess with that office director.

Xue Bao Tian finally found some entertainment, flattering his business partner while venting the temper he had been suppressing for so long.

A chaotic scene unfolded like a performance. The office director stormed out, and the Thai-raised bastard followed him out. The luxurious private room was left with only the exhausted Xue Bao Tian and the rowdy companions he had brought along.

More alcohol was opened at random. Xue Bao Tian hugged a woman, lazily singing cheesy love songs.

Just as he hit a high note, the heavy door of the private room was forcefully pushed open. Several men with unfriendly expressions strolled in. The one in front wore a leather jacket, about the same age as Xue Bao Tian, with an ordinary face, but dressed head-to-toe in luxury, a gold watch flashing so brightly it hurt the eyes.

With a slight shake of his shoulders, the leather jacket fell into a subordinate’s hands. The man slowly sat down, leaving two or three seats between himself and Xue Bao Tian.

“Young Master, long time no see?”

Xue Bao Tian didn’t reply. It wasn’t arrogance, but because he saw, among the group standing behind, the half-hidden figure of Zhang Chi.

Zhang Chi also saw him, showing a hint of surprise, but quickly composed himself. His gaze slid away from Xue Bao Tian’s face and landed on the arm wrapped around the woman.

Xue Bao Tian tightened his hold on the woman, set down the microphone, picked up a glass, and spoke in a mocking tone: “What wind blew Young Master Qi over here?”

The man across from him smiled faintly, poured himself a drink, lifted it to his nose, and showed a look of disdain: “You’ve taken things too far, Young Master. If I didn’t come looking for you, the whole city would laugh at me.”

Xue Bao Tian took a sip of his drink, feigning surprise: “Since when did Young Master Qi go deaf? The whole city is already laughing at you. Didn’t you hear?”

The hand gripping the glass bulged with veins. The man called Young Master Qi twisted his face: “Xue Bao Tian, why take our small grudge this far?!”

“A small grudge?” Xue Bao Tian lifted his eyelids and snapped sharply, “You deliberately ran over my dog!”

“And you buried that dog in my family’s ancestral grave?! Do you know you disturbed our family’s feng shui? My father is already ill from anger because of this!”

Xue Bao Tian put on an aggrieved expression: “My dog didn’t really want to be buried there, but there’s no human presence, so it suited it better. When I go to pay respects, I’ll bring more dog food, make it convenient, and worship together.”

“Xue Bao Tian, you’re courting death!” The man exploded in anger, smashing his glass, sinking back into the sofa, his face dark as water. “You’ve had it too easy, Young Master. Today, I’ll teach you a lesson.”

He raised his hand and lightly curled his fingers, as if giving a signal. Following that motion, everyone’s gaze shifted, eventually landing on Zhang Chi, who stood at the back.

Zhang Chi lowered his eyes and stayed silent for a few seconds, then slowly stepped forward, moving from the dim corner into the flashing lights.

Only then did Xue Bao Tian realize that Zhang Chi was wearing a suit today. The thick black fabric made him appear even taller and more imposing.

Lowering his stance slightly, Zhang Chi picked up a bottle from the table, lifted his gaze to look directly at Xue Bao Tian, and stepped closer.

“What are you trying to do?” Xue Bao Tian asked coldly.

“Fulfilling a duty, eliminating trouble for someone.”

Author’s Note:

The Thai tycoon’s son and the office director mentioned here are the protagonists of the neighboring novel Four-Faced Buddha. The top is a thousand-faced madman, one face in public and another in private, taking advantage of the bottom not understanding Thai, showing affection on one side while being cruel on the other. If you’re interested, you can check it out.

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