At ten o’clock that night, the car’s high beams shone into the deep alley. The pale white light pushed the darkness back inch by inch until the tires crunched over gravel and stopped at the very end of the narrow road. The lights went out, the engine died, and the alley sank once more into mud-like darkness.
Zhou Ruo An sat inside the car for a while before pushing open the door and stepping out. He knocked on an iron door.
A voice came from inside. “Open it yourself.”
Lin Yi’s voice was low and deep. Through the door, it sounded absurdly pleasant. Zhou Ruo An disliked hearing it, so he waited a moment for the sound to fade before pulling out his keychain and selecting the brass key to slide into the lock.
Lin Yi’s home only had one bedroom and one living room. It was the only property his early-dead father had left him.
There was barely any decoration to speak of inside, only the simplest furnishings, yet everything used loud, gaudy colors—a rainbow-striped sofa, a tablecloth covered with fish and lotus flowers, and from the bedroom one could glimpse a bedspread embroidered with blooming prosperity flowers. Too many patterns, too many colors. One glance made your head spin; two glances made your chest tighten.
Zhou Ruo An had once mocked Lin Yi’s taste. He remembered a much younger Lin Yi sitting on that rainbow sofa, looking around the room before saying flatly, “Isn’t this nice? Feels lively.”
For some reason, Zhou Ruo An had always been able to understand Lin Yi’s meaning almost instantly. From just those five words, he imagined what the house used to look like.
When Lin Yun Fan died, there had been five or six knives stuck in his body. Anywhere else, that would already count as something sensational. In the entire urban village, if people didn’t chat about the Lin family after meals, it was as though they couldn’t keep up with the trends—like stupid dogs too slow to even eat fresh shit while it was still warm.
Out of curiosity, all the village kids had peeked through Lin Yi’s windows before. Zhou Ruo An was no exception.
Looking through the filthy glass into the room, the walls had been gray, the floor black, even the bedsheets stained so deeply with sweat and grime that their original color could no longer be seen. Back then, Zhou Ruo An hadn’t known how to describe Lin Yi’s old home. Now he did. It had looked like Zhang Jin’s black-and-white memorial portrait: numb-faced and utterly lifeless.
After handling Lin Yun Fan’s funeral, seven-year-old Lin Yi had lived alone in that deathly silent house for another three years. Rumor had it that during Lunar New Year when he was ten, he bought a brightly patterned bedsheet to replace the old one full of holes. From then on, he couldn’t stop himself. Little by little, he saved money to replace every old item in the house until it became what it was today.
Back then, Zhou Ruo An had genuinely pitied Lin Yi a little. But now, looking again at that riot of colorful bedding, it felt as though a stone were lodged in his chest. He could already imagine the kinds of positions Lin Yi would press him into atop it, doing whatever he pleased.
The bathroom door opened, and Lin Yi walked out wearing sleepwear. He had just showered, and the ends of his hair were still wet, droplets hanging from them.
He barely looked at Zhou Ruo An. Instead, he walked straight to the old refrigerator and asked, “What do you want to drink?”
Zhou Ruo An dropped onto the rainbow sofa and answered coldly, “Beer.”
When the opened can was handed to him, Lin Yi’s gaze lowered faintly. “Didn’t take the medicine?”
Zhou Ruo An accepted the beer and lifted his eyes with a scoff. “Brother Lin sure knows how to threaten people. Wasn’t it that if I took the medicine, you wouldn’t help me anymore?”
Lin Yi lightly touched the hair still stiff with styling gel. “I was afraid Young Master Zhou would turn his back and deny everything afterward. That’s one of your specialties too.”
Zhou Ruo An turned away from the touch, his expression ugly. Tossing his drained phone onto the coffee table, he leaned back into the sofa.
“Could your call have come any later? Thirty seconds later and Wang Zhao Di would’ve sold me out right in front of all those people.”
Lin Yi sat down beside Zhou Ruo An on the sofa, opened his own beer, and took a sip of the overflowing foam.
“The interference noise from your phone in your pocket was really strong. I only realized halfway through that the person confronting you was Wang Zhao Di. But that’s not an excuse for Young Master Zhou to pick a fight. I protected you, so now you need to fulfill your promise.”
Lin Yi had never possessed the virtue of helping others out of kindness. When Zhou Ruo An came to him for help, the two had already reached an agreement: after everything was settled, Zhou Ruo An would accompany him for three days—no medicine, no resistance, obedient throughout.
Zhou Ruo An set down the beer and pulled a jade pendant from his pocket. It was pure white all over, dangling with a green ornament.
He held the jade out before Lin Yi. “From the Song Dynasty. Blessed by a high monk. Good stuff. It’ll guarantee you live to a hundred.”
Lin Yi drank another mouthful of beer and glanced at the item swaying before him. “A token of love?”
“Fuck.” The jade pendant trembled angrily in the air.
Zhou Ruo An suppressed his temper and asked, “How about using this to exchange for those three days?”
Lin Yi draped an arm across the back of the sofa. The beer can in his hand lightly tapped against the jade pendant, and with a crisp sound, he smiled and said, “Not happening.”
Zhou Ruo An darkened his face and put the pendant away, then took out Zhou Bin’s luxury watch instead. Adjusting his strategy, he dropped the cold expression and replaced it with a flattering smile.
“This watch is impossible to buy on the market. It’s a collector’s edition. Brother Lin is handsome and has great style. It suits you perfectly.”
This time, Lin Yi looked genuinely pleased. After taking a sip of beer, he asked, “I’m handsome?”
“Not just handsome. Heroic too. Half the girls around here can’t eat or sleep because of you.”
Lin Yi was clearly pleased by the praise. He stretched out his left hand slightly, and Zhou Ruo An immediately slipped the watch onto the man’s wrist. The clasp clicked shut neatly into place.
The diamond-studded watch gleamed brilliantly. Lin Yi looked at the constantly turning hands and softly said, “Zhou Ruo An, do you know that giving someone a watch means you want to stay together with them forever?”
“…Stay together what?” Zhou Ruo An looked dumbfounded.
Lin Yi lifted his wrist and held the watch beside Zhou Ruo An’s ear. “As long as time keeps moving, we’ll last forever.”
Zhou Ruo An slapped his hand away. “It’s silent. What are you listening for?” He reached for the watch. “Give it back. I’m not giving it to you anymore.”
Taking advantage of the movement, Lin Yi grabbed his hand and pulled him into his arms. “Don’t move. Let me hold you for a while. I was rushing to the school today and almost got into an accident on the way. An An, at least worry about me a little.”
Zhou Ruo An, who had been about to struggle free, paused. Turning his head, he asked, “Are you okay?”
Lin Yi set down the beer can and hugged him tighter. “Luckily the truck swerved in time. Otherwise, the place you’d be seeing me now might’ve been the morgue.”
Zhou Ruo An suddenly thought of Zhang Yu Ting dying right in front of him, lying in a pool of blood before the truck, eyes wide open, unable to rest in peace.
He took a deep breath and pushed Lin Yi away, speaking with ruthless finality. “Spending three days with you in the morgue would be more comfortable than spending three days with you now.”
Lin Yi laughed and rubbed his hair. Taking another sip of beer, his voice sank into the rich scent of malt, thick and mellow.
“If, when I die, you could spend three days beside my grave, then my life wouldn’t have been wasted.”
The electrical voltage in the urban village was unstable. The light flickered once, and the room dimmed several shades, like the atmosphere in an old photograph—warm yellow and sorrowful.
After a long while, Zhou Ruo An lowered his eyes and softly asked, “What exactly do you even like about me?” When no answer came, he lifted his gaze again. “You like that I’m good-looking?”
Lin Yi rested his elbow on his knee and tilted his head toward Zhou Ruo An, carefully examining that handsome face. The beer had been chilled, leaving his fingers cold. The man lifted his hand, and those cool fingertips slowly traced across smooth skin, following his gaze until they landed upon Zhou Ruo An’s lips, rubbing them gently.
“Yeah,” Lin Yi said. “I like that you’re good-looking.”
Zhou Ruo An barely avoided the touch, nor did he show anger. He glanced at the flickering lightbulb and let out a slow, faint scoff.
“Lin Yi, you’ve successfully made me hate my own face.”
“Three days, right?” Zhou Ruo An glanced at the watch. “Not one extra minute.”
Before the sentence had even finished, Lin Yi kissed him.
The rich malt fragrance in both their mouths tangled together until it became impossible to tell whose taste belonged to whom.
The kiss deepened further and further. Half reclining against the sofa, Zhou Ruo An was forced to tilt his head back, accepting the greedy plundering.
As the weather warmed, clothing became lighter. The hem of the custom-made shirt fastened with diamond buttons was easily lifted, and warm palms wandered restlessly across his skin.
The tailored shirt left little room for mischief. Lin Yi slid his hand out and rested it atop one of the diamonds, only for Zhou Ruo An to hurriedly stop him. His lips were still trapped in the kiss, and he spoke urgently in a muffled whimper.
“Don’t tear it. It’s expensive.”
“Mhm.” Lin Yi was relatively obedient. His hand slipped around to the back instead, grabbing the soft flesh through Zhou Ruo An’s pants. He used plenty of force as he kneaded it, saying at the same time, “Undo it yourself.”
Zhou Ruo An was so humiliated he nearly wanted to die, yet he had no choice. Under Lin Yi’s direct gaze, he could only undo the diamond buttons one by one.
“Open it wider.”
“Lin Yi, don’t go too far.”
“An An, be good.”
Zhou Ruo An tightly shut his eyes and pulled his clothes open to either side, peeling himself bare completely, just like the longans Third Miss had been peeling earlier.
The longan flesh was sweet and full, and Lin Yi lowered his head, lightly tugging at it with his teeth, sucking out the juice and savoring the flesh to his heart’s content.
A strange, secret sensation began at his chest and slowly spread throughout his entire body. Zhou Ruo An trembled slightly, unable to withstand it.
Even without taking any medicine, his mind gradually became muddled. Only when Lin Yi carried him onto the bed did Zhou Ruo An regain a sliver of clarity.
Lin Yi’s clothes were easy to remove. Once the robe was untied, his strong body immediately filled Zhou Ruo An’s sight.
Subconsciously, Zhou Ruo An edged toward the side of the bed, only to be dragged back by the ankle in one sharp pull.
“What are you running for?”
To be fair, Lin Yi could not really be considered cruel to Zhou Ruo An. Even when the two were at each other’s throats, Lin Yi rarely treated him with cold hostility—except in bed.
In bed, Lin Yi was terrifyingly fierce. He also seemed to harbor desires too shameful to bring into the light. Those twisted, almost pathological urges for control required absolute submission from Zhou Ruo An to satisfy.
The first time, Zhou Ruo An had been bound and restrained. The second time, he had been trapped in the haze of drugs. But now he was free and fully conscious. Faced with this kind of Lin Yi, how could he not want to run?
Lin Yi had never possessed much patience in moments like this. His palm pressed against Zhou Ruo An’s face as he looked at him through the gaps between his fingers and slowly lowered himself closer.
“Lin Yi!” Zhou Ruo An struggled to force the words out beneath the hand. “It hurts.”
The man’s movements paused slightly. He removed his hand and gripped Zhou Ruo An’s jawbone, forcing him to look over.
“It hurts?”
Zhou Ruo An’s eyes were red, his body trembling faintly. “It hurts a lot. It’ll hurt for a long time.”
……
That night, Lin Yi went out to buy lubricant. At first, he genuinely tried to be gentle, but those warped instincts seemed rooted deep in his bones, impossible to change.
The vulgar, brightly colored bedsheets wrapped around pale skin. The gorgeous peonies on the sheets were distorted beneath long fingers clutching at them, like layers upon layers of delicate branches winding around wrists and fingers—lush, decadent, and tempting people toward ruin.
Lin Yi lifted that hand and fed the fingers into his mouth one by one, coating them in saliva and leaving faint teeth marks behind. Yet even that was not enough for him. Wet fingers were pressed back against the young man’s chest as he ordered softly,
“Touch yourself for me.”
Even clay figures had some temper left in them. Zhou Ruo An moved his hand away and glared angrily at Lin Yi.
The next instant came a heavy smack. Lin Yi bent down to kiss him, brushing against soft lips as he whispered,
“If you won’t do it, then I’ll have to do it myself. And if you cry out in pain, I’ll seal your mouth shut. I even prepared tape for you.”
The fury in Zhou Ruo An’s eyes deepened, yet he could only be kneaded and molded however Lin Yi wished. Slowly, he lifted his hand and covered his own chest, leaving the warm dampness there.
“So obedient.” Lin Yi lightly pecked those soft lips. “Harder.”
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Futile Devices Scans 
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