Futile Devices Scans

Lin Yi was surrounded in a deep alley, walls on three sides—a dead end.

His face bore bruises, his knuckles were red and raw. He had taken hits, and he had dealt them too.

Leaning lazily against the wall, Lin Yi brushed the dust off his clothes. Lifting his eyes, he glanced at the people standing in front of him. “Why are you coming at me in waves? It’s winter—aren’t you cold just standing there watching?”

Someone answered, “That’s what the employer instructed—drag it out. The longer you get beaten,” he glanced back at the person filming with a phone, “the more enjoyable it is for him to watch.”

“Alright.” Lin Yi nodded in acknowledgment. “First wave, I dropped five. How many are you sending this time?”

The man replying looked displeased. “A capable fighter under Master Bai really is impressive. This time, we’ll send seven to play with you, Brother Lin. If that’s not enough, we’ve got a third group. The employer said to wear you down with waves.”

Lin Yi suddenly smiled. Looking at the phone recording him, he spoke lazily, “Young Master Zhou is quite attentive—willing to spend so much effort on me.”

Then he turned back to the people in front of him, his gaze cooling, voice lightly mocking. “Come on. If you’re getting paid, at least make it entertaining. Don’t all fight like a bunch of weaklings.”

Their expressions darkened instantly. One of them signaled to the others. “Did you hear that? Treat him well—don’t hold back your punches.”

Before he even finished speaking, a blur of fists appeared in his peripheral vision. “Damn—you sneak—”

A heavy punch landed squarely on his face. With a muffled grunt, he staggered back. The flesh on his cheek seemed to lose all support, shifting with the force like loose skin.

Lin Yi grabbed him by the hair and yanked him back, driving his knee hard into the man’s abdomen. “If you wanted to be a gentleman, you wouldn’t be doing this job.”

Twisting him around, Lin Yi clamped a hand around the man’s throat and used him as a shield. “I can’t handle a war of attrition—so you can take a few more punches for me.”

Then he turned the man’s face forward—straight into an incoming fist.

……

By the time Zhou Ruo An arrived, the fight had already been decided. Lin Yi, outnumbered, was covered in injuries, sitting against the wall with one hand braced on his knee.

The opposing side had won, but barely. Almost everyone bore bruises; some looked even worse than Lin Yi, curled against the wall, breathing heavily.

Zhou Ruo An parted the crowd and slowly approached. He looked down at Lin Yi for a while before crouching and smiling. “Like it? My return gift to you.”

“Like it.” Lin Yi leaned his head against the old wall, chin slightly raised. His face was mottled with bruises, blood at the corner of his mouth.

Though he looked battered, there was no sense of defeat—if anything, the sharpness in his eyes was even fiercer, arrogant to the extreme.

One arm rested on his raised knee as he curled his fingers slightly. “Young Master Zhou, grant me a cigarette.”

Zhou Ruo An searched his striking face for a moment, then pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket and tossed it over.

The cigarette landed in Lin Yi’s disheveled clothes, but he couldn’t pick it up. “My fingers are numb—I can’t straighten them. Trouble you to light one for me.”

Only then did Zhou Ruo An look at Lin Yi’s hand. The back of it was swollen and red, the skin over his knuckles split and bleeding. Likely from exhaustion, it rested on his knee, trembling slightly.

Zhou Ruo An looked away, picked up the cigarette, placed it between his own lips, and lit it.

He took a deep drag, then shoved it roughly into Lin Yi’s mouth. “This is just the appetizer. Young Master Zhou will treat you to a full course.”

Lin Yi inhaled with difficulty, a faint smile on his lips. “How much did you pay them, hm?”

When Zhou Ruo An didn’t answer, he continued, “If it’s more than ten thousand, that’s too much. They’re not worth it.”

“You—” a man curled up nearby cursed through gritted teeth. He had been ambushed by Lin Yi earlier and used as a shield; his injuries looked worse than Lin Yi’s.

Ignoring the constant cursing, Lin Yi calmly continued, “So many people, yet not one aimed for my vital points. They all avoided where it mattered. No killing intent.”

The cursing abruptly stopped. The man looked toward Zhou Ruo An. The latter lowered his gaze and asked coldly, “Lin Yi, what are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying—” Lin Yi flicked the cigarette, ash falling in soft flakes, his hoarse voice low and contained, “not going for the kill… that was your instruction, wasn’t it?”

The man across frowned. “How could I possibly—”

A trace of amusement appeared in Lin Yi’s eyes. Gathering his strength, he suddenly reached out, hooked Zhou Ruo An toward him, and pulled him forward—kissing him hard.

“Damn!” The dozen or so onlookers cursed in unison. Even those groaning in pain kept in rhythm.

The man who had been ambushed pushed himself up against the wall, suddenly enlightened. “So this is collecting a love debt.”

The kiss was brief—just enough to make a sound before they separated. As Lin Yi pulled away from that softness, he didn’t forget to run his mouth. “Thanks, Young Master Zhou, for caring about me.”

A cold glint flashed in Zhou Ruo An’s eyes, tinged with hostility. He shoved Lin Yi hard. “Didn’t go for the kill, huh?” Standing up, he stepped on the hand Lin Yi was using to brace himself and slowly twisted. “Didn’t you say stepping on fingers hurts the most? But how would you know if you’ve never tried it? Practice leads to real knowledge—I’ll help you find out today.”

Putting full force into his foot, Zhou Ruo An asked for a wooden stick. Bending down to look at Lin Yi, whose brows had drawn slightly together, he picked up the cigarette that had fallen to the ground and put it back into Lin Yi’s mouth. “Take a drag—helps with the pain.”

Then he straightened, raised the stick high, and brought it down hard onto Lin Yi’s back.

With the cigarette clenched between his teeth, Lin Yi let out a muffled groan. The leather shoe pressing on his hand finally lifted. Zhou Ruo An’s voice came down coldly: “Lin Yi, the thing I regret most in this life is knowing you. Don’t let me see you again.”

Throwing the stick aside, Zhou Ruo An turned and left. The man Lin Yi had ambushed earlier nudged the lackey beside him, muttering under his breath, “See that? Don’t date men. When it falls apart, they really beat you.”

“Zhou Ruo An.” Still leaning against that same old wall, Lin Yi slowly settled back. As his back touched his fresh wounds, the muscles in his cheek tightened. “Do you still want Jinggui Electronics or not?”

Zhou Ruo An, who had already walked out of the crowd, suddenly stopped and turned back. “What do you mean?”

Lin Yi placed the short stub of cigarette between his lips and took a drag, suppressing the pain before speaking. “You’ve vented your anger. Now it’s time to talk business.” He tilted his head slightly. “Come here.”

Though Zhou Ruo An and Lin Yi were now at odds, years of familiarity had given them an unspoken understanding. With just one look, Zhou Ruo An understood what Lin Yi meant.

Too many people around—this wasn’t something to discuss openly.

He glanced at the dozen or so hired thugs beside him, paused for a moment, then turned back and walked over to Lin Yi again.

Tilting his head back, Lin Yi spoke softly, “You want to acquire Jinggui Electronics, but have you thought about why the owner wants to sell?”

“Because of equipment upgrades, a broken capital chain, and inability to repay bank loans—so the company went bankrupt.”

“That’s just the official story. If you don’t grasp the real cause, how can you strike at the vital point?”

Zhou Ruo An remained silent—that was his way of telling Lin Yi to get to the point.

“The owner of Jinggui got set up—scammed out of everything, forced into bankruptcy. And the one who ruined him is a regular at our club. I’ve got something in my hands that could help the owner vent his anger.”

A flame lit up in Zhou Ruo An’s eyes—like someone trapped in a dead end suddenly spotting a locked door.

Lin Yi added fuel at the right moment. “We’ve already slept together. Don’t you want to get something out of me in return?”

The old wall cast a heavy shadow. Zhou Ruo An seemed to merge into it. His gaze was dark as ink, yet unable to conceal the surging undercurrents beneath.

“Lin Yi, you’re scheming against me again.”

The hand that had been stomped bloody rested on his knee. Lin Yi picked a few small stones out of the wound. “The path is laid out in front of you. You can either walk away like you just did, or stay and see the bargaining chip I’m holding. It’s up to you, Young Master Zhou.”

Zhou Ruo An, who was always best at weighing pros and cons, hesitated for a long time this time. The cold night wind swept into the alley, hit the old wall, and turned back again, repeating over and over until his whole body grew cold from the inside out. Only then did he speak, his voice chilled to the bone:

“Yeah… I can’t let you have me for free. I should get something back.”

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