Three days later, at an indoor golf course on the outskirts of the city.
Zhou Ruo An’s swing was clean and decisive. The golf ball traced a graceful arc through the air before landing on the artificial fairway in the distance, kicking up a small spray of shredded turf.
“Your golf game keeps getting better and better, Young Master Zhou.”
A man’s voice sounded from behind him, carrying the relaxed composure unique to someone accustomed to power. Turning around, Zhou Ruo An saw Bai Jiu standing not far away with a golf club in hand. His triangular eyes were slightly lowered, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Bai Jiu had arranged today’s game. Zhou Ruo An had originally intended to refuse, but although Bai Jiu’s tone over the phone had been casual, there had been an undercurrent of threat hidden beneath his words—vague and indistinct, yet enough to unsettle anyone. Thus, he had been half-coerced into coming to the course. Yet an hour had already passed since they began, and Bai Jiu still showed no urgency. He neither revealed his purpose nor moved toward the real topic, seeming instead to enjoy watching Zhou Ruo An’s nervousness.
Fuck.
The young man silently cursed after finishing his swing.
Outwardly, however, he responded with a smile.
“You’re flattering me, Master Bai.”
Bai Jiu’s slightly drooping eyelids lifted a fraction. His gaze settled on Zhou Ruo An’s face, like a cold-blooded predator examining its prey. He leisurely studied the increasingly handsome features illuminated beneath the white lights, lingering reluctantly on the small beauty mark at the corner of Zhou Ruo An’s eyebrow before finally speaking.
“How about a match against me?”
Meeting his gaze, Zhou Ruo An replied cautiously, “You must be joking, Master Bai. With my skill level, how would I dare compete against you?” He paused briefly before getting straight to the point. “You’re a busy man. I assume you didn’t invite me here just to play golf.”
“You’re too modest, Young Master Zhou.”
Bai Jiu knew exactly how to play this game in a way that amused him. A carefully chosen remark often rewarded him with an even paler, prettier face to admire. Tilting his head slightly, he studied Zhou Ruo An’s expression, trying to verify his suspicions.
“Still, you’re right. I didn’t invite you here solely for golf today. There’s something else I’d like to discuss.” His voice slowed. “Your former life.”
Yet the expression he was watching did not change. Zhou Ruo An merely pressed his lips together slightly.
“If there’s something you wish to say, Master Bai, please just say it.”
Bai Jiu found the reaction disappointing and let his expression cool.
“Let’s play a round first. Relax a little. We can talk afterward.”
Before the sentence was even finished, he had already headed toward the teeing area. Only then did Zhou Ruo An dare release the breath he had been holding. His expression remained uncertain as he followed.
Bai Jiu delivered a beautiful shot, then stepped aside.
“Your turn, Young Master Zhou.”
Taking a deep breath, Zhou Ruo An tightened his grip on the club and forced himself to calm down. He swung.
The shot immediately veered off course.
The ball landed in a sand bunker beyond the fairway, sending a spray of sand into the air.
Bai Jiu laughed.
“Just now your form looked excellent. What happened? Not feeling it anymore?”
Forcing the corners of his mouth upward, Zhou Ruo An offered a faint smile.
“My apologies for making a fool of myself.”
Bai Jiu waved a dismissive hand.
“It’s only golf. The whole point is to relax.” He walked over to Zhou Ruo An’s side. “Though your movements seem a little stiff. Why don’t I teach you?”
Without asking permission—or even bothering to pretend to ask—Bai Jiu stepped behind him and wrapped an arm around him. His arm crossed Zhou Ruo An’s shoulder while his hand settled over Zhou Ruo An’s, adjusting his grip on the club. His breath was close enough to feel—warm, slightly damp, carrying a faint scent of tobacco—like an invisible set of shackles locking Zhou Ruo An firmly in place.
“Relax,” Bai Jiu murmured beside his ear. “Don’t be so nervous. Golf is all about your state of mind. The more anxious you are, the worse you’ll play.”
“I can do it myself—”
His earlobe suddenly felt warm.
Bai Jiu’s lips seemed to brush against the skin there as he laughed softly.
“You’ve been part of the Zhou family for a while now, Young Master Zhou. Life’s been treating you well, hasn’t it?”
The question carried a deeper meaning. Instinctively, Zhou Ruo An’s body tensed before he forced himself to relax again.
“Thanks to your blessings, Master Bai. Everything’s going well.”
“To be honest, I’ve always found you interesting.” Bai Jiu’s voice remained leisurely. “You’re intelligent, calm, and know how to read the situation. Someone like you should be accomplishing great things.”
Slowly turning his head, Zhou Ruo An subtly shifted away from the heat near his ear.
“You overestimate me, Master Bai. I’m just someone drifting through life. I don’t have any grand ambitions.”
“But you’re not the type to drift through life.” Bai Jiu smiled. “I’ve heard that in just one year you’ve already established yourself firmly within the Zhou family. Jinggui Electronics has been posting impressive results.”
“That’s entirely thanks to my uncle’s guidance.”
His calm response carried a trace of distance that was almost impossible to detect.
Bai Jiu’s knee pressed lightly against the back of Zhou Ruo An’s leg as he guided him into another swing in an exceedingly intimate posture. His chest was pressed firmly against Zhou Ruo An’s back. Because he was slightly shorter, his chin almost rested on Zhou Ruo An’s shoulder.
“Your uncle only promotes you because you’re part of the Zhou bloodline.”
Before the sentence had fully ended, Bai Jiu guided Zhou Ruo An’s wrist through a powerful swing. The club connected. The white golf ball arced through the air and flew straight toward its target.
“He’d never give an opportunity like that to an outsider.”
The words entered Zhou Ruo An’s ears together with the sound of the strike and pierced directly into his heart.
“Wouldn’t you agree, Young Master Zhou?”
Zhou Ruo An’s heartbeat suddenly accelerated, and his hands trembled uncontrollably, almost unable to hold the golf club. Bai Jiu’s voice remained calm and unhurried, yet carried a chilling coldness. “I heard there’s a friend buried at Changshui Cemetery who grew up with you. What was his name again? Zhang Jin?” As he spoke, the man deliberately paused. His gaze slithered across Zhou Ruo An’s profile like a venomous snake, studying every subtle change in expression. “I heard he took his mother’s surname. And his mother’s surname was Zhang.”
Bai Jiu’s greed became increasingly obvious. His entire body nearly pressed against Zhou Ruo An’s back, as though he wanted to knead him into himself. His arm tightened around Zhou Ruo An, making it difficult to breathe. “What do you think Zhang Jin’s father’s surname was?”
The blood throughout Zhou Ruo An’s body seemed to freeze instantly. The arm wrapped around his waist felt as though it had simultaneously seized his heart and squeezed it hard, leaving only despair spilling through its fingers.
His throat tightened, dry as if scraped raw by sandpaper. Every swallow felt difficult, but he forced himself to speak. “I don’t understand what you mean, Master Bai.”
Bai Jiu’s lips had already drifted down to his neck. The sticky sensation was nauseating. “You should understand. You’re so smart. Playing dumb isn’t very obedient.”
Cold sweat soaked through his back. A chill crawled up his spine. Zhou Ruo An’s mind went completely blank. Every thought was swallowed by fear, leaving only one sentence echoing over and over like a death sentence: It’s over. Everything is over.
“Looks like Young Master Zhou wants me to make things explicit.” Without warning, Bai Jiu suddenly spoke. “Zhang Jin was the youngest son that Zhou Jing Tao fathered outside the family. And you, Zhou Ruo An… you’re nothing but an impostor!”
Everything before his eyes blurred. The only sounds remaining were his own violent heartbeat and ragged breathing. Yet Zhou Ruo An still relied on instinct. He shoved the man behind him away and forced himself to remain composed. “Master Bai, that kind of joke isn’t funny.”
“A joke?” Bai Jiu’s tone instantly turned cold. “Zhou Ruo An, do I look like I’m joking?”
He waved toward the distance. Two tall men in black suits immediately approached. Only when they came closer did Zhou Ruo An notice the nurse following behind them, carrying a medical case. Her expression was professionally indifferent.
“Hold Young Master Zhou down and draw some blood.”
Bai Jiu’s cold command struck Zhou Ruo An’s heart like a hammer. Before he could even react, the two men seized his arms and forced them down, completely restraining him. His sleeves were roughly rolled up. A sharp needle pierced his vein without warning. Zhou Ruo An watched helplessly as dark red blood flowed steadily into the collection tube.
“Bai Jiu!” he shouted angrily. “What the hell are you trying to do?”
After the blood draw was complete, Bai Jiu dismissed the others with a wave. Lighting a cigar, he sat down and smiled. “I simply feel that Young Master Zhou is still young. Carrying such a huge secret alone must be exhausting.” He exhaled smoke leisurely. “Why not let me help share the burden?”
“Share it?” Zhou Ruo An let out a cold laugh. “And how exactly do you plan to help me share it?”
“Come with me.” Bai Jiu smiled. “I’ll help you keep this secret. What do you think?”
Slowly clenching his fists, Zhou Ruo An suppressed his anger. “Master Bai, I’m straight. I can’t accept that kind of thing.”
Bai Jiu lowered his eyes and smoked, too lazy even to raise his eyelids. “Whether you’re straight or not doesn’t matter.”
Zhou Ruo An’s mind raced, and he immediately began improvising. “I’m already engaged. My fiancée is the legitimate daughter of the Yangyu Group.”
“You’re using that to pressure me?” Bai Jiu lifted his triangular eyes, his tone dripping with ridicule. “Young Master Zhou, do you really think that engagement can protect you? If they learn your true identity, do you think that precious fiancée of yours will still acknowledge you as a ‘young master’?”
He tapped ash directly onto the white tabletop. The smile had vanished from his eyes. “Zhou Ruo An, if it weren’t for your status as the Zhou family’s young master, you’d have ended up in my bed long ago. By now, I’d probably already be tired of you and tossed you aside.”
At last, Bai Jiu saw the color drain completely from Zhou Ruo An’s face. Beautiful. That was the judgment he made in his heart.
And then he delivered his final ultimatum.
“If you still want to remain the Zhou family’s young master, then wash yourself clean and wait for me. If you refuse to behave, I’ll tear that skin off you, let the Zhou family grind you back into the mud… and then I’ll play with you anyway.”
“Choose, Young Master Zhou.”
Zhou Ruo An stood beneath the bright artificial daylight lamps for a very long time. The harsh white light shone directly upon him, yet brought not the slightest warmth. Only when Bai Jiu’s expression began to show impatience did Zhou Ruo An finally grit his teeth and speak quietly.
“Master Bai, I need time to think.”
Bai Jiu chuckled, unable to hide his satisfaction. “Young Master Zhou, I can give you time. But don’t keep me waiting too long. My patience is limited.”
“Alright.”
Zhou Ruo An nodded calmly.
Bai Jiu appeared very pleased with the response. Extinguishing his cigar, he said casually, “Good. You’re still Young Master Zhou for now. No need to be so tense.” He smiled. “Shall we play another round?”
Forcing out a faint smile, Zhou Ruo An replied, “As you wish, Master Bai.”
The two men walked one after the other toward the teeing area. Sunlight spilled across the green fairway, casting two long shadows. Zhou Ruo An fixed his gaze on the distance and struck the ball with all his strength.
⸻
Inside the office, the silence was so complete it felt as though one could hear dust settling.
Zhou Zhe sat comfortably in a leather chair, lightly rolling a string of sandalwood prayer beads between his fingers.
His new secretary stood before the desk, slightly bent at the waist, his posture almost fawning. “Second Young Master, we’ve made another discovery regarding Fourth Young Master’s background. I managed to contact the man who was married to Fourth Young Master’s mother before she died. He claims he has evidence proving that Fourth Young Master is not Zhang Yu Ting’s son.”
Zhou Zhe’s fingers caught between two beads. His movement stopped abruptly. His deep gaze immediately lifted.
“Continue.”
Unlike Fu Chun Shen’s calm confidence, this new secretary was eager to claim credit. He stepped forward hastily. “And he also says he knows where the real young master is.”
“Stop dragging it out.”
Zhou Zhe frowned.
The secretary lowered his voice until it was nearly a whisper.
“He says he wants two million yuan.”
Futile Devices Scans 
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