Futile Devices Scans

Elio’s Notes: We had some challenges with this (these) chapter(s) because we noticed that after Chapter 27, it jumped immediately to Chapter 29. We analyzed the story flow between 27 and 29 and thought it was consistent so IG there was just some error like they omitted the header for Chapter 28 and had it merged with Chapter 27 by mistake. Chapter 27, anyways, is twice as long as a usual FL chapter, so we just labeled this chapter as 27-28. If ever you find a Chapter 28 for this, feel free to let us know and please do share it with us! We’ll have it translated immediately.

Zhou Ruo An held a nominal idle position at Shengkai Foreign Trade. In the past, even when he wandered into the company, no one would give him a proper glance. But ever since he raised his glass at the Zhou family’s New Year’s Eve banquet, his status soared. The younger members of each branch took turns hosting gatherings, invitations came nonstop, and throughout the entire Spring Festival, Zhou Ruo An spent his days drunk and indulgent, experiencing every kind of pleasure—except he never touched a woman.

After leaving the club, Zhou Ruo An tightened his overcoat. He had been flattered into drinking a few extra glasses.

His steps were unsteady, slow yet arrogantly composed. The hem of his coat swayed, his bangs loose over his forehead, shadowing a pair of beautiful, drunken eyes. The parking lot was lit only by high beams. He seemed to be walking at the edge of the light, carrying desire, decadence, and the most alluring form of ruin, step by step, until he reached Lin Yi’s car.

He opened the door and got in. The warm air inside immediately wrapped around him. There was still a chill in his bones—heat and cold clashed, and he shivered.

Leaning back against the seat, he closed his eyes, enduring a faint dizziness as he asked, “How long have you been waiting?”

“Not long.” Lin Yi fastened his seatbelt, glancing briefly at the small mole beneath the young man’s brow.

“Want some water?”

Lin Yi’s voice wasn’t too close, so Zhou Ruo An answered with a relieved “Mm.” Soon, water was brought to his lips. He drank a couple of sips from Lin Yi’s hand, then turned his head away—enough.

Since the two had made their three-month agreement, they had been seeing each other more often. Zhou Ruo An kept irregular hours, active at night and resting by day, and Lin Yi always drove him around. Aside from that, their interactions hadn’t changed much. Lin Yi didn’t go overboard with flattery, nor did he cross physical boundaries as agreed. Zhou Ruo An went from uneasy to completely at ease in just a week.

“You don’t have to come pick me up every time. This is your busy period too.”

Lin Yi started the car and pulled out, replying bluntly, “I want to.”

Zhou Ruo An smiled with his eyes still closed. “Lin Yi, do you think you count as a simp?”

Lin Yi glanced at him. “I guess so.”

“Bullshit.” Zhou Ruo An chuckled from the passenger seat. “A couple of days ago you still wanted to burn me with a cigarette—what kind of simp acts like that?”

There was a hint of amusement in Lin Yi’s eyes. “That’s because you’re too hard to deal with.”

“Lin Yi,” Zhou Ruo An opened his eyes, his gaze hazy as he looked toward the driver, “I don’t want to drift apart from you, but I also don’t want to date you.”

Lin Yi kept driving steadily, one hand on the wheel while the other reached over to ruffle Zhou Ruo An’s hair. Calmly, he said, “You can’t have both. You have to choose one.”

The alcohol dulled Zhou Ruo An’s reactions—he only tried to dodge after Lin Yi’s hand was already on his head, but Lin Yi gently held him in place. The man glanced over, unexpectedly gentle. “Promise me—stay by my side properly for these three months. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll walk away on my own.”

His thumb lightly brushed Zhou Ruo An’s forehead. “Okay?” His voice was soft, almost coaxing.

The car was steady, but it couldn’t suppress the surge of alcohol. Zhou Ruo An felt dizzy, overheated, uncomfortable. He pushed Lin Yi’s hand away and turned his head toward the window.

After a while, his chest trembled slightly. He gave a quiet “Mm.”

…

Ever since Madam Zhou returned from vacation, family banquets at the Zhou residence became frequent. When the old housekeeper informed Zhou Ruo An, his tone was perfunctory—anyone with half a brain could hear the subtext: “It’s fine if you don’t come.”

But Zhou Ruo An attended every time, playing the fool, cracking jokes, and drawing plenty of cold looks.

The Third Miss was favored and often stayed by Madam Zhou’s side. She appeared to have a gentle temperament, always smiling, fond of hawthorn preserves.

Occasionally, the Third Miss would step out for some air. At those times, her smile would disappear. Without the disguise, it became clear that she actually had a cold face—her features like frost, distant and difficult to approach.

Zhou Ruo An walked over, leaned against the pillar under the corridor, lit a cigarette, inhaled and exhaled, and gazed at the sky alongside the girl.

It was cold—after standing for a while, it became unbearable. The Third Miss turned to go back inside. As she passed Zhou Ruo An, she heard him ask casually, “You don’t actually like hawthorn preserves, do you?”

The girl paused, casting him a cold glance. “We’re all just trying to survive under this roof. You don’t need to target me—I’m no threat to you.”

“I know.” Zhou Ruo An removed the cigarette and lightly flicked off the ash. “I’m just curious. Madam doesn’t genuinely like you—so why bother keeping up appearances?”

The girl let out a short laugh. “Zhou Ruo An, don’t tell me you don’t know why she allows bastards like us into the Zhou family?”

Zhou Ruo An stiffened slightly, glanced around from the corner of his eye, and asked softly, “Why?”

“Marriage alliances, of course.” The girl’s face carried a hint of mockery. “You don’t actually think she’s generous and selfless, do you? In a family like the Zhou family, if they want to stabilize their foundation and build external ties, marriage alliances are the simplest way.”

She leaned slightly closer, her voice near Zhou Ruo An’s ear. “For illegitimate children, the marriage partners are either from mediocre backgrounds or have terrible character. Madam is already picking out a marriage candidate for you.” She clicked her tongue softly, then straightened up, her expression turning cold. “Good luck, Fourth Young Master of the Zhou family.”

At the doorway, her pale fingers, like tender shoots, were just about to push it open when she heard Zhou Ruo An ask lazily, “Who did she choose for you?”

The girl, in her plain white qipao, almost blended into the snowy scene. Her long lashes lowered as she said quietly, “Mind your own business.”

…

The very next day, Zhou Ruo An got himself a girlfriend.

She was a socialite he met at a dinner party—her family had some wealth. She was beautiful, passionate, and loved money, perfectly matching Zhou Ruo An’s preferences.

The agreement was signed quickly. The woman signed her name at the bottom and twirled her pen, asking, “How do you want me to cooperate, Fourth Young Master?”

“If news about my arranged marriage comes out, you cry, make a scene, and threaten suicide.”

The woman stirred her coffee. “So you don’t want your fate controlled by your family?”

The sunlight in the café was bright. Zhou Ruo An’s face seemed almost to melt into the light. At that moment, with that exceptionally beautiful face, he spoke the most crude and vulgar words: “My fate can be controlled by others—but only if the price is right.”

“No wonder you rushed to get a girlfriend—you’re planning to trade ‘true love’ for compensation.”

Zhou Ruo An took a sip of coffee and looked out the window at couples in the plaza, standing in pairs. He said softly, “If I’m expected to give up a passionate love, then I need to be compensated—with either high status or real money.”

After that, Zhou Ruo An brought the woman to many events. They acted intimate and affectionate, as if deeply in love.

Only one person was kept in the dark—Lin Yi.

Zhou Ruo An only dared to get into Lin Yi’s car after sending the woman away. Lin Yi wasn’t clingy, which suited Zhou Ruo An just fine. With flexible timing, he could maintain both sides—neither side falling apart.

One evening, someone arranged a gathering at Lin Yi’s bar. Zhou Ruo An deliberately didn’t bring his girlfriend and went alone.

During a break, Zhou Ruo An stepped out for a cigarette and happened to run into Lin Yi. The man led him to the bar counter, personally mixed a drink, and slid it across the solid wooden surface toward him. “Try it.”

Lin Yi was skilled at mixing drinks. Zhou Ruo An had learned about thirty percent of it from him—enough to impress others. He took a slow sip and praised, “It’s good.”

Then he added, “But not as good as it was back then.”

Though the remark seemed vague, Lin Yi understood. He grasped Zhou Ruo An’s wrist and glanced into the bar area. “Come in.”

Perhaps Zhou Ruo An had drunk a little too much—he actually cooperated, walking around the long wooden counter and stepping behind the bar. Lin Yi placed a crate on the floor, and Zhou Ruo An skillfully sat on it, leaning his back against the inner wooden panel of the bar. The shadows pressed in, almost completely concealing him.

Lin Yi stood beside him, looking down. “How is it now?”

Zhou Ruo An took another sip of his drink and smiled. “A few years ago, when you couldn’t get any work beating people, you worked at a bar as a bartender. I used to hide behind the bar, waiting for you to get off work while sneaking drinks. Do you remember that road after work? From bar street to the urban village—ten kilometers. Hot in summer, freezing in winter. We suffered plenty.”

Just then, a customer ordered a drink. Lin Yi withdrew his gaze and began mixing in place of the bartender. In rare moments of pause, he would lower his right hand and gently stroke Zhou Ruo An’s hair, twining the soft strands around his fingers until Zhou Ruo An dodged away. Sometimes, he would bring over a piece of candy—chatting with customers while unwrapping it—then casually drop his hand and slip it into Zhou Ruo An’s mouth with perfect accuracy.

The candy was sweet, the alcohol strong—they didn’t go together. Zhou Ruo An wanted to spit out the candy or set the drink aside, but in the end he did neither. He only tilted his head slightly, gazing hazily at the person beside him, and muttered a low curse.

When there was finally a break, Lin Yi crouched beside him, studying him closely before leaning in to ask, “Does the drink taste good?”

“Mm. You should try it.”

“I’ll pass. You’ll scold me.”

Zhou Ruo An was momentarily confused, then quickly understood. A trace of embarrassment flickered across his face, leaving behind a cold expression.

Somehow, he had triggered one of Lin Yi’s peculiar tendencies. The man’s gaze deepened as he hooked a finger under Zhou Ruo An’s buttons and pulled him closer.

At such close range, their breaths nearly brushed against each other’s skin. In the dim light, their gazes intertwined like overgrown vines.

“Lin Yi,” Zhou Ruo An’s voice tightened, “you said you wouldn’t do anything excessive.”

“I won’t.”

In the noisy bar, within the hidden corner beneath the counter, Zhou Ruo An’s back was lightly stroked. Lin Yi leaned in, close to his ear. “Zhou Ruo An, do you remember the word ‘filth’? Dirty, unclean, low, base—that’s my life. And you… you’re the only beautiful dream in all my mess and disgrace.”

The candy pressed lightly against his teeth. The drink in his hand rippled slightly. An unfamiliar tension spread in the silence, squeezing the air until Zhou Ruo An felt suffocated.

He turned his head to avoid that burning gaze, biting down on the candy while pouring the remaining drink into his mouth.

After swallowing, he spoke with bits of candy still between his teeth, smiling. “Where did you learn those words?”

Lin Yi pulled back slightly, answering openly. “I looked up the words in a dictionary. The rest, I figured out myself—and memorized for days.”

Zhou Ruo An laughed and cursed. “Don’t say that kind of thing again. It’s creepy.”

Lin Yi ran a hand through his soft hair again, disagreeing. “You’ll get used to it if you hear it more. Next time I’ll come up with something else. One way or another, I’ll make sure you know I like you.”

“……”

With his mind still foggy, Zhou Ruo An couldn’t come up with a proper reply. Fortunately, he heard Bai Ban’s voice the next moment.

Bai Ban was looking for Lin Yi. He leaned over the bar to peer inside, not even paying attention to the strange position between Lin Yi and Zhou Ruo An, and said directly, “Bro, Master Bai is looking for you. He says they caught a middleman and wants you to handle it.”

Lin Yi’s warm palm brushed across Zhou Ruo An’s cheek. “I’ll go over there for a bit. You head back to the private room. I’m almost off work anyway—we’ll go home together later.”

Zhou Ruo An grabbed the man who was about to stand up, tilting his head up as he said, “Don’t let them use you as a knife.”

Lin Yi smiled and tidied the hair on Zhou Ruo An’s forehead. “Aren’t you using me as a knife too? If I’m not a knife, what value do I have?”

There wasn’t a trace of sorrow in his tone, as if he were simply stating a fact he had long accepted. He turned and left, weaving through the dance floor. His tall, upright figure gradually disappeared among the twisting bodies, like the final frame of an MV—lingering, yet lonely.

Zhou Ruo An sat there for a while. Only when he could no longer suck any sweetness from the candy in his mouth did he get up and slowly return to the private room.

The whole night passed in a haze of indulgence and decadence. Zhou Ruo An kept waiting for news from Lin Yi, but his message inbox remained empty.

When the gathering finally broke up, he went downstairs with the group of spoiled rich kids. While waiting for the elevator, his gaze drifted down the long corridor and landed on a man standing by the window at the far end.

Making an excuse to slip away, Zhou Ruo An walked over. As soon as he got close, the sharp smell of smoke hit him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Lin Yi didn’t lift his eyes. The coldness around him was blunt and intense, completely different from the warmth he’d shown two hours ago.

Zhou Ruo An frowned slightly. Without thinking, he slipped his hand into his pocket and felt for a coin.

Lin Yi flicked ash into the trash can by the wall, the gray flakes falling like his indifferent tone. “Bai Jiu caught a broker who deals in all kinds of information. Recently, he sold the address of Bai Jiu’s little lover. That person got their arm and jaw broken and was dumped right in front of Bai Jiu’s wife.”

“It’s an obvious provocation. Bai Jiu won’t let his enemies go, and he definitely won’t let the broker go either. He already beat him half to death, and before finishing him off, he had him interrogated.” Lin Yi finally looked at Zhou Ruo An. “Guess what came out of it?”

The coin tightened in Zhou Ruo An’s palm. His throat moved cautiously. “What did they find out?”

“Apparently, a few months ago, some con artist surnamed Zhou from the urban village paid a few thousand to buy the phone number of Bai Jiu’s chief aide.”

Through the haze of smoke, Lin Yi asked calmly, “Zhou Ruo An, that story you told before—that Bai Jiu had taken a liking to you and had his people contact you… that was a lie, wasn’t it? You wanted to use that to push me—to make me help you get into the Zhou family?”

The words dropped like a heavy stone into deep water, plunging everything into a long silence.

It was late at night, the peak time for guests to leave. Behind them, occasional bursts of noise echoed, along with the sharp clicking of high heels against the floor.

The sound grew closer—so close that both Zhou Ruo An and Lin Yi had to look over.

“Darling! Is that really you?”

A soft-bodied woman suddenly rushed over, wrapping her arms around Zhou Ruo An’s. “I thought I was seeing things! I didn’t expect it to really be you. Didn’t you say you were working overtime tonight? Why are you here?”

Zhou Ruo An’s pupils shrank sharply, the muscles in his face visibly stiffening. He glanced quickly at Lin Yi and saw his gaze fixed on the woman’s hand gripping his arm. His heart sank instantly.

He tried to pull his arm away, but the woman clung tighter. At that moment, Lin Yi—who had been silent—finally spoke.

“Who is she?”

With Lin Yi, the shorter the sentence, the more serious the situation.

Zhou Ruo An steadied his breathing, forcing himself to calm down. Standing under the overhead light at the end of the corridor, he stayed silent for a long moment. Only when the woman began to grow impatient did he wrap an arm around her soft shoulders and look at Lin Yi.

“She’s my girlfriend.”

Lin Yi still didn’t get angry. He removed the cigarette from his lips and asked, “Since when?”

“Just recently. We’re getting along pretty well.”

He took the final drag of his cigarette and crushed it into the sand in the trash can, grinding it carefully until no spark remained.

“Zhou Ruo An,” he said as he did so, “you’re not someone who deserves respect.”

When the cigarette was reduced to ash, Lin Yi dusted off his hands and walked slowly up to Zhou Ruo An. Without warning, he seized both of his arms. As the woman gasped in shock, he leaned close to Zhou Ruo An’s ear and said in a low voice:

“You’re the type who should be tied up—made to beg.”

Lin Yi: Is sweet romance really only one chapter long?

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