Futile Devices Scans

Amid the ethereal, delicate singing, Lin Yi kissed Zhou Ruo An back.

Running his fingers through his hair, he pressed against those soft lips and asked, “An An, what’s wrong?”

Zhou Ruo An’s eyes were slightly unfocused, as though he were trapped in thoughts he could not escape. His voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, carrying uncertainty and fragility. “Are you fake too? Like A’Tuan, Shui Bu Xing, Zhang Jin, and the others?”

Lin Yi did not answer immediately. Instead, he asked softly, “Do you want me to be real or fake?”

At last, Zhou Ruo An focused on Lin Yi’s face. “Fake.” He slowly raised a finger and traced it along the man’s cheek. “The real Lin Yi asks for too much.”

Lin Yi gazed deeply at the person in his arms. Only after a long moment did he kiss him and gently coax, “Then I’m fake.”

Zhou Ruo An had never been this proactive before. Clumsily, he fumbled with the buttons of Lin Yi’s shirt. Too inexperienced and too eager, he even lowered his head and tugged at the buttons with his teeth.

Whenever he failed, the corners of his mouth would droop, and a trace of unwillingness would flash through his eyes. Stubbornly, he would lift his head and look at Lin Yi, his gaze veiled by a thin layer of misty moisture.

Lin Yi’s breathing hitched slightly, the veins at his temples faintly throbbing. When Zhou Ruo An failed to undo the third button and was finally about to give up, Lin Yi suddenly reached out and gripped the back of his neck. The force was neither heavy nor light, yet impossible to escape.

“Keep going.”

It was an order that allowed no refusal.

Zhou Ruo An had been taught well. Unless he was deliberately opposing him, he obeyed nearly every instruction Lin Yi gave. His slender fingers tightened on the fabric, and he lowered his head obediently, once again catching that stubborn button between his teeth.

In the end, the shirt that came off was damp around the collar and was tossed carelessly onto the sofa, ignored.

The private room came with an adjoining suite. There was a mahjong table, and by the window stood a bed for guests to rest on.

When Lin Yi tossed Zhou Ruo An onto the bed, the neon lights outside filtered through the blinds, scattering mottled shadows across his face.

At times like this, Lin Yi was always impatient, even a little rough. He grabbed the hem of Zhou Ruo An’s shirt and pulled it off over his head. Then he leaned over him, one knee braced against the edge of the bed, both hands planted on either side of Zhou Ruo An’s body. Blocking out the light from outside, he enveloped him completely in his shadow.

“So you like the fake Lin Yi?”

“Mm.”

“Say you like him.”

After a moment of silence, Zhou Ruo An replied, “I like him.”

The rough web of a hand gripped the young man’s jaw, forcing him to look directly at him.

“Say you like Lin Yi.”

The song looping outside squeezed through the crack beneath the door, and Zhou Ruo An happened to hear the line:

Sometimes, sometimes, I’d rather choose to hold on and refuse to let go. Perhaps you’ll stay with me and watch the quiet flow of life.

He turned his eyes away and said nothing.

Lin Yi brushed back his bangs and turned his face toward him again, studying those eyes carefully.

“You didn’t take any drugs, did you?”

The muscles in Zhou Ruo An’s body tightened. Guiltily, he lowered his eyes to hide his gaze. Yet Lin Yi did not press further. Instead, a warm embrace settled around him.

“An An, stop denying it. You just wanted to see me.”

“I didn’t…”

A kiss fell and cut off the rest of his words.

The room was quiet. Only the neon lights that had intruded from outside cast mottled patterns across the walls and floor, like silent voyeurs.

The bed was narrow. Zhou Ruo An’s neck rested against its edge, his loose hair hanging downward in graceful arcs. The cigarette between his fingers had already burned halfway down. Smoke curled around his long fingers before slowly rising and blending with the neon glow, blurring his outline.

The angle stretched his neck long, his Adam’s apple moving slowly beneath thin skin, as though he were willingly presenting his throat to a hunter.

Lin Yi bit down there just as expected. His teeth sank lightly into the skin—not enough to hurt badly, but enough to leave behind a strange mixture of sting and numbness.

It was even a little ticklish. Zhou Ruo An laughed around the cigarette, but the next moment his brows furrowed slightly as the teeth tightened, leaving behind a distinct mark.

Sometimes Zhou Ruo An felt that Lin Yi must have been a dog in a previous life. Otherwise, why would he be so obsessed with marking territory in this one?

Raising a hand, Zhou Ruo An removed the cigarette and was just about to push him away when the warmth at his neck suddenly shifted elsewhere.

Lin Yi’s kisses traveled slowly downward along the elegant line of his neck, lingering here and there. It was only after they moved lower that Zhou Ruo An suddenly realized the implication of what he was doing.

He pushed at the man’s shoulder, his voice tinged with panic.

“Lin Yi, you…”

No answer came.

Lin Yi gently moved his hand aside and lowered his head.

The normal temperature of the human body was thirty-six degrees Celsius, but Lin Yi’s mouth felt far hotter than that.

Zhou Ruo An’s body tensed abruptly. His mind went blank. Among all his senses, only that overwhelming heat remained—something he did not want to face, yet could not ignore.

The shifting neon light flickered with the movement of Lin Yi’s hair. At that moment, the last line of defense in Zhou Ruo An’s heart completely collapsed. His vision gradually blurred, as though the entire world had lost focus.

Inevitably, some of Zhou Ruo An’s reactions carried a trace of venting his frustrations, yet amid it he also found a pleasure that seemed to seep into his bones. At times, he even found himself distracted by the thought: No wonder Lin Yi left me unable to speak for three days last time.

Only when his body was patted lightly twice did Zhou Ruo An snap out of his daze. He suddenly exerted force, and it was as though a floodgate had been opened, impossible to stop thereafter…

By the time Lin Yi got up to rinse his mouth, Zhou Ruo An was still lying with his head resting against the edge of the bed. His entire body was loose and languid, as though every ounce of strength had been drained away, allowing the returned Lin Yi to do as he pleased.

When a fresh cigarette was placed between his lips, Zhou Ruo An heard the tremble in his own voice despite gritting his teeth to suppress it. Lin Yi’s lips, cooled by water, brushed against his ear, making him shiver.

“It’s not degrading you. See? You like it too,” Lin Yi said.

“Cut the fucking crap.” Zhou Ruo An’s voice was so soft it seemed boneless as he lazily cursed. “Last time you were degrading me.”

Lin Yi did not deny it. Reaching out, he lit the new cigarette in Zhou Ruo An’s mouth. The flame flashed briefly in the dim room. Then, with two fingers, Lin Yi plucked the cigarette from Zhou Ruo An’s lips and put it into his own mouth.

The way he held a cigarette made him look especially fierce. Through the drifting smoke, his gaze appeared cold and dangerous. His fingers pressed into the hollow of Zhou Ruo An’s collarbone, applying slight pressure.

“Had enough feeling good? Now it’s my turn.”

“You… be gent…”

Light and shadow rippled constantly across pale skin. Occasionally, fragments of conversation drifted through the room.

“The ash… the ash burned me.”

The cigarette remained where it was, but the force grew heavier.

“Endure it.”

At the height of their ragged breathing, amidst the unending rhythm, Zhou Ruo An’s hoarse voice came out in broken fragments.

“Lin Yi… you once said… you liked my… kindness?”

A kiss fell. Distracted, the man merely answered with a soft, “Mm.”

A brief laugh followed almost immediately. The neon lights seemed to cut Zhou Ruo An into fragments. His gaze drifted toward the window, and his voice was so soft it was almost impossible to hear.

“Kindness… Lin Yi, no one’s more blind than you.”

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