Futile Devices Scans

With one foot inside the door and one foot still outside, Xue Bao Tian stopped in place.

His gaze swept across the completely naked men and women, and he let out a mocking laugh. Then the foot that had stepped through the doorway withdrew back outside.

Pulling out a cigarette and biting it between his lips, he received a flame from the perceptive Zhang Chi at his side. Lowering his eyes, he took a deep drag. Only after the curling smoke dispersed did Xue Bao Tian hook up the corners of his lips and lazily say, “President Huang, didn’t all those people from the Haitian Shengyan scandal get arrested?”

Elio’s Notes: Haitian Shengyan was a notorious luxury party scandal in China associated with wealthy elites, models, escorts, and extravagant sex-party culture.

Huang Song had been quietly observing Xue Bao Tian’s expression the whole time. The moment this rumored playboy second-generation heir—known for being wild, reckless, and indiscriminate in his tastes—halted his steps, faint lines had already appeared between Huang Song’s brows.

Laughing loudly, Huang Song replied in an easy tone, “They’re just service staff. The format’s a little more innovative. I thought Young Master would like it.”

Xue Bao Tian bit the cigarette filter flat, cold light hidden in his eyes. “Too fucking vulgar. Like slabs of raw pork hanging around. No aesthetic sense at all.”

“Now that Young Master mentions it, it really is a bit of an eyesore.” Huang Song waved a hand broadly. “All of you, go put on clothes.”

The men and women scattered in response, and Huang Song’s secretary bent slightly at the waist, gesturing respectfully for them to enter.

Xue Bao Tian’s jaw shifted faintly as he glanced at Zhang Chi.

Zhang Chi still wore that same mild, unhurried expression—neither cold nor warm. After exchanging a glance with Xue Bao Tian, he rested a hand lightly at his waist and gave a slight push, guiding him into the villa.

“Don’t be afraid.”

When Xue Bao Tian heard the low murmur by his ear, his eyelashes trembled faintly. Then he lifted his eyes again, returning to that arrogant, unruly demeanor.

A gathering this private was absolutely impossible to be clean.

By the time Xue Bao Tian sat down at the card table, those men and women had already descended the spiral staircase in single file. They were dressed now, but the clothing was thin and gauzy, half-concealing and half-revealing—wearing clothes that might as well not exist, only adding a more tantalizing temptation.

It wasn’t as though Xue Bao Tian had never seen scenes like this before. He had spent more than ten years running in these circles; situations skirting the edges of legality were already commonplace to him. If he made a fuss over something at this level, he truly would lose face.

A man and a woman stood at either side of him. The young slender man lightly rubbed the skin of his waist against Xue Bao Tian’s elbow, while the woman leaned close to chat with him, gauzy fabric draping low enough to fully expose the scenery at her chest.

Instinctively, Xue Bao Tian looked toward Zhang Chi. He had already been conditioned into a reflex by this point. In his mind, if the options were women or Zhang Chi, he could only choose Zhang Chi—otherwise that idiot wouldn’t bother caring whether he lived or died.

Sure enough, a trace of gloom had mixed into Zhang Chi’s mild expression.

“Fuck,” Xue Bao Tian cursed softly. After thinking it over, he pushed the woman farther away and kept only the slender man beside him.

Across the table, Huang Song let out an amused “Oh?” “Young Master’s got refined tastes.” He waved for someone else over. “Bring another decent-looking one here. Young Master’s luck is running hot tonight. If he wins, they can all share in the fortune.”

Sure enough, Xue Bao Tian’s luck at the card table was excellent. Huang Song practically fed him money, intentionally letting him win hand after hand.

Cigarette hanging from his lips, Xue Bao Tian lazily instructed the man beside him, “Blow on the cards for Master Xue.”

The pale little lamb-like boy bent down and gently blew at the raised corner of the cards before obediently saying, “Young Master’s definitely winning this round.”

Xue Bao Tian smiled carelessly. “If I win, I’ll reward you.”

When the final card was revealed—seven, eight, nine, straight flush—Xue Bao Tian won spectacularly.

Putting out his cigarette, the smug-looking Xue Bao Tian gathered up the chips and casually pulled out several high-value ones to reward the people beside him.

Normally he stuffed them into women’s bras, but now both men at his sides were barely dressed, with only decorative chest chains draped messily across their upper bodies. Clicking his tongue, Xue Bao Tian shoved the chips into their underwear instead.

Getting carried away, he grabbed another handful and turned, intending to stuff them to Zhang Chi standing behind him. His fingertips had already brushed the edge of Zhang Chi’s clothing before Zhang Chi shifted aside and avoided him.

Lifting his eyes, Xue Bao Tian’s face filled with displeasure. He pulled out another cigarette and twisted slightly in his seat, waiting for Zhang Chi to light it. One of the little lambs nearby rushed eagerly to offer a flame instead, but Xue Bao Tian flicked his hand and immediately shut him down.

Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Zhang Chi slowly bent down, thumb pressing the lighter to produce a flame and bringing it over.

The flickering light reflected two burning flames inside Xue Bao Tian’s eyes as he lowered his voice. “Zhang Chi, are you fucking stupid? Since when does a bodyguard give attitude to his own boss?”

Zhang Chi remained silent. The flame in his hand flickered suddenly, startling Xue Bao Tian.

“Fuck.” The word squeezed out between Xue Bao Tian’s teeth. “In places like this, I’ve got to keep someone beside me. You won’t allow women, now men aren’t okay either? What, do you want to strip naked and stand beside me yourself?”

Zhang Chi lifted his thumb slightly, extinguishing the flame. His expression remained as frozen as winter soil.

Relying on Zhang Chi this time around, Xue Bao Tian forcibly suppressed the fire in his chest and could only coax him instead. The curse words spun around in his mouth before emerging as a low murmur instead:

“I’m a straight guy. What exactly are you getting jealous over? Those two beside me look like snake demons who kidnapped someone’s grandfather. What’s attractive about them? If I ever fall so low I can only look for men, it’d definitely be you, Brother Chi.”

Zhang Chi raised a brow slightly, his gaze scraping heavily across Xue Bao Tian’s face. His expression immediately looked much better.

“What are Young Master and Xiao Zhang whispering about?” Huang Song asked with a smile from across the card table. “Something the rest of us can’t hear?”

Seeing that Zhang Chi’s expression had eased somewhat, Xue Bao Tian inwardly sighed, This is killing me. Turning back toward Huang Song, he immediately switched back to his arrogant demeanor. “I’m tired of playing. Let Zhang’er play a few rounds for me.”

Giving up his seat, he pressed Zhang Chi down into the chair and patted his shoulder twice when Zhang Chi said he didn’t know how to play. “Just play however you want. If you lose, it’s on me.”

“It can count as my loss too.” Huang Song smiled pleasantly, treating Zhang Chi with obvious courtesy.

Xue Bao Tian clicked his tongue. His thoughts turned vicious—maybe he should just hand Zhang Chi over to that bastard Huang Song and let Zhang Chi sleep with him. Two problems solved at once.

The thought was strangely satisfying, and Xue Bao Tian revealed a sly grin, though what he said aloud was, “No need for President Huang to worry about it. My person—I protect him.”

Zhang Chi played three to five rounds, winning more than he lost. Anyone with eyes could tell Huang Song and the others were deliberately letting him win, treating Zhang Chi like Xue Bao Tian’s dog and humoring the master to keep him pleased.

When the card game ended, dinner had already been laid out in the dining room. Delicacies filled the table—jade-like dishes, rare meats, extravagant cuisine without equal.

Xue Bao Tian took his seat, leaving the spot beside him empty. Huang Song gestured with his chin. “All who come are guests. Xiao Zhang, sit.”

Xue Bao Tian tapped two fingers lightly against the table and looked up at Zhang Chi. “President Huang’s hospitality is hard to refuse. Sit.”

Zhang Chi did not sit immediately. Instead, he walked over to a server and took the wine vessel from his hands. “I’ll pour.”

But his hand seemed to slip accidentally, and the already-decanted red wine spilled all over the floor.

While apologizing aloud and enduring several scoldings from Xue Bao Tian about being “unable to appear on proper occasions,” Zhang Chi quietly observed the brief flash of ugliness that crossed Huang Song’s face before it smoothed back into composure. Then he casually picked up another bottle from the wine rack.

“How about switching to this one? My boss drinks this often.”

Xue Bao Tian immediately agreed. “Open it and fill everyone’s glasses. Don’t waste time.”

Zhang Chi circled the table pouring wine before finally taking the seat beside Xue Bao Tian. Without any awareness of propriety, he raised his glass first and drank three cups in a row as apology for his earlier mistake. Only after the burning liquor had settled in his stomach for a while did he lean close to Xue Bao Tian’s ear and murmur, “This bottle’s fine. Safe to drink.”

With Zhang Chi’s assurance, Xue Bao Tian finally relaxed enough to raise his own glass. Smoothly delivering a string of polished pleasantries, he repeatedly hinted at warnings toward Huang Song beneath the surface. His meaning was clear: If others don’t provoke me, I won’t provoke them. But if you, Huang Song, don’t know your place, I’ll peel three layers off you with that recording.

Huang Song’s expression shifted several times, unreadable for a moment, before he ultimately smiled and smoothed things over, turning the subject away from the conflict and back toward business and pleasures.

Feeling that he had successfully beaten the grass to startle the snake—and achieved excellent results—Xue Bao Tian let down much of his guard. Amid endless flattery and praise, he raised his glass again and again, drinking quite a lot.

After several rounds of food and wine, when the atmosphere was at its liveliest, Huang Song quietly signaled his secretary with a glance.

Roughly three to five minutes later, lightly dressed attendants pushed open the dining room doors. Following the same assignments from the earlier card game, they walked to the guests’ sides and obediently stood in place.

Beside Xue Bao Tian stood the little lamb who had blown on his cards earlier, while the other soft little lamb took position beside Zhang Chi.

“We’ll let them eat after we’re done eating.”

Fuck, Xue Bao Tian cursed inwardly. Huang Song really was a piece of shit—making people pick through leftovers.

But to his shock, the male and female attendants suddenly knelt down beside their assigned guests all at once. Their hands moved skillfully to trouser zippers—pull, part—and then they lowered their heads toward them.

“Holy fuck!” Xue Bao Tian barked sharply, slapping the attendant across the face and shoving him away.

He hurriedly turned to check on Zhang Chi, intending to help him out—but instead found that bastard staring wide-eyed at the person kneeling before him. No struggling, no resistance.

The fucker actually seemed to be enjoying it.

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