The next morning, sunlight filtered through the gaps in the blinds, casting long strips of light across the floor.
Standing beside the bed, Zhou Ruo An dressed himself unhurriedly, as though nothing had happened the night before. Picking up the half-finished bottle of mineral water left on the card table, he unscrewed the cap and poured some into his palm. After wetting his fingers, he ran them through his messy hair several times, revealing his smooth forehead.
His expression remained indifferent, as though he were wearing an invisible mask. As he fastened his cuffs, he said, “I paid for the room. You can just leave whenever you’re ready.”
Lin Yi sat half-reclined on the bed, bare-chested, watching Zhou Ruo An with a heavy gaze. He normally never smoked on an empty stomach, yet now he held a cigarette between his fingers and asked, “What happened?”
Zhou Ruo An’s movements abruptly paused. The crystal button he had just pushed through the buttonhole slipped out again. Without looking up, he replied perfunctorily, “Stop being paranoid. What could possibly have happened?”
Lin Yi lit the cigarette and casually tossed the lighter onto the card table beside him. “Does it have something to do with Bai Jiu? I heard he’s been asking you out to play billiards lately.”
Reaching behind him, he adjusted the blinds, blocking half the sunlight. The room instantly became mottled with shadow.
“Bai Jiu has always had those kinds of… intentions toward you,” Lin Yi said.
“Right. He wants the same thing from me that you do.” Zhou Ruo An let out a cold laugh and pushed the button back through the hole. “I’d like to know myself—what is it about me that attracts freaks like you?”
“Talk about the real issue.” Lin Yi’s voice carried a trace of helplessness.
The blinds divided the sunlight into strips. Standing by the window, Zhou Ruo An’s eyes were hidden in shadow, making it impossible to read his expression. His voice remained calm and steady, as though discussing something entirely ordinary.
“He wants me to be with him.”
Lin Yi’s fingers trembled slightly, causing the stream of smoke to break for an instant. His brows immediately furrowed, his voice tightening.
“You’re a Zhou family heir. He wouldn’t dare do anything reckless to you.”
Still looking out the window, Zhou Ruo An replied with detached indifference, “He said he can help me rise to the top.”
A dark look passed through Lin Yi’s eyes. After a long silence, he finally asked, “Are you planning to use him to climb up?”
At last, Zhou Ruo An turned around. Walking to the bedside, he leaned forward slightly and looked down at Lin Yi from above, his eyes openly filled with contempt.
“If not through him, then through you?”
Lin Yi met Zhou Ruo An’s gaze and said slowly, word by word, “Don’t be so impatient. I can help you too.”
“You?” Zhou Ruo An never missed an opportunity to mock Lin Yi. “You’ve only got a handful of useless nobodies under you. What can you possibly accomplish? Be realistic, Brother Lin. Stop dreaming.”
Lin Yi hooked a finger into Zhou Ruo An’s collar and pulled him down until they were eye level. A warning lingered in his voice.
“Do you know the consequences of doing this?”
“Of course I do.” Instead of retreating, Zhou Ruo An leaned closer until their breaths mingled. “I’ve already had a taste of ‘the consequences’ from you.”
Slowly straightening up, Zhou Ruo An fastened the final button of his shirt.
“Lin Yi, if I can get into your bed, why can’t I get into his? Sure, he’s not as good-looking as you, but what a coincidence—I happen to be disgusted by men who look like you.”
With that, Zhou Ruo An turned and left, his back resolute and cold. The softly rebounding door cut off the complicated, heavy gaze behind him.
After walking a hundred meters down the alley, Zhou Ruo An heard the drawn-out melodies of opera singing. Lifting the padded curtain at the entrance, he was immediately greeted by the scents of sandalwood and tea. Looking up, he saw a performer in blue robes on the stage flicking flowing sleeves, while a placard for The Peony Pavilion hung from the round wooden pillar beside the stage.
The first floor was for walk-in patrons, while the private rooms were upstairs. Zhou Ruo An climbed the stairs without bothering to check any room numbers. Outside the innermost private room stood two large bodyguards, one on each side of the door—the same men who had pinned him down and drawn his blood that day.
When he approached, Zhou Ruo An did not immediately push the door open. Instead, he stood quietly outside, rubbing a coin between his fingers.
Inside the inner pocket of his suit jacket was a USB drive. Though made of plastic, it weighed upon his chest like a thousand pounds. Wrapped within the pounding of his accelerated heartbeat, it rose and fell with every breath.
Stored inside the USB drive was the recording of Bai Ban’s drunken confession.
Slowly, Zhou Ruo An raised his hand and moved it toward his chest inch by inch.
The highly trained bodyguards frowned slightly. Predicting his next move, they rested their hands on their lower backs, fingers brushing the rough handles of their knives.
Yet the somewhat absent-minded young man merely pressed a hand against his chest, as though… touching what remained of his conscience.
When the carved wooden door was pushed open, even the sound of the hinges turning seemed refined and elegant.
Inside, Bai Jiu still sat with his eyes closed, his fingers lightly tapping in rhythm with the opera. He appeared not to have noticed Zhou Ruo An’s arrival at all. Only when Zhou Ruo An had walked up before him did he slowly open his eyes and smile.
“Young Master Zhou has arrived?”
The drifting opera singing seemed to soften the hostility that usually clung to Bai Jiu. Even the smile on his face now could almost be described as gentle.
Taking a seat opposite him, Zhou Ruo An wiped his hands with a hot towel before replying, “I’ve kept Master Bai waiting.”
“For you, I can wait however long it takes.”
A simple romantic line earned a slight frown from Zhou Ruo An. For the first time, he found himself appreciating Lin Yi’s good points. That man rarely spoke sweet words. Even when he did, it sounded as though he had memorized them beforehand and was reciting a textbook passage. They were easy enough to dismiss as meaningless nonsense.
Bai Jiu pointed toward the stage downstairs.
“The performance is at its best part right now. Don’t miss it.”
Playing hard to get and drawing things out endlessly beforehand was one of Bai Jiu’s unique amusements. Zhou Ruo An had long grown accustomed to it and simply went along with it. Turning his gaze toward the stage, he kept one hand pressed against his chest. Beneath his fingertips, the outline of the USB drive was perfectly clear. He knew that every step from here onward would be a gamble with no path of retreat.
Only after the opera excerpt had ended did Bai Jiu look at him again. Flicking the dragon-patterned Tang suit he wore, he asked, “Young Master Zhou mentioned something mutually beneficial?”
Only then did Zhou Ruo An notice that Bai Jiu had made a special effort with his appearance today. He wore a black brocade Tang suit made from fine silk. His hair had been trimmed and combed neatly back from his forehead. He had shaved carefully. The scent of cologne was almost overpowering.
Zhou Ruo An suddenly thought of the clean scent of soap from the previous night, mingled with heavy breaths and enough to stir a person’s heart.
Realizing what he was thinking, he immediately cut off the train of thought and calmly asked, “Master Bai, may I see the test report first?”
“Young Master Zhou knows his own identity better than anyone. Do you really need to see the report?” Bai Jiu nodded with a faint smile. “Fine. Take a look.”
As he spoke, he tossed a DNA report onto the tea table and tapped the final conclusion.
“No biological relationship. You’re a fake.”
Bai Jiu’s eyes remained fixed on Zhou Ruo An as he spoke with a smile.
“How did you get into the Zhou family in the first place? Did Lin Yi help you?”
Zhou Ruo An did not deny it. His fingers lightly traced the edge of the paper as he replied calmly, “Nothing can be hidden from Master Bai.”
Picking up a purple clay teapot from the table, Bai Jiu tilted his wrist. Tea streamed smoothly into an exquisite teacup. In an instant, the private room was filled with the fragrance of tea.
“No wonder Lin Yi has been knocking you around so many times. Turns out he’s been holding your secret over your head.” Bai Jiu placed the teacup in front of Zhou Ruo An. “Don’t be afraid. From now on, I’ll protect you. He won’t dare threaten you again.”
Looking at the gently rippling tea, Zhou Ruo An remembered the cup Zhou Ran Ming had pushed toward him a few days ago. Both were excellent teas, and even the words sounded the same.
Xiao An, from now on, Uncle will protect you.
His eyes flickered slightly. Raising the cup, he drained it in a single swallow.
“Thank you, Master Bai.”
“Let’s discuss this mutual benefit you mentioned.” Like a cat that had grown tired of teasing a mouse, Bai Jiu leaned back in his chair and asked directly, “Go on. What deal do you want to make with me?”
The fingers wrapped around Zhou Ruo An’s teacup paused slightly. It felt as though something inside his chest had caught fire, burning hot enough to hurt. Perhaps green tea was too cooling by nature, because his stomach now twisted painfully, churning as though a storm had broken loose inside.
“Young Master Zhou?”
Zhou Ruo An’s eyelashes trembled. Slowly, he raised a hand and reached into the inner pocket of his suit, touching the USB drive.
Onstage, the opera performer cast out flowing sleeves while graceful footwork matched the elegant singing. Yet in Zhou Ruo An’s ears, it transformed into the voice of Faye Wong—lingering, timeless, drifting through long, quiet alleyways with an indescribable melancholy.
Before Bai Jiu could lose patience again, Zhou Ruo An finally withdrew something from his pocket—
A neatly folded asset statement.
He pushed the document toward Bai Jiu.
“These are all of my assets. If Master Bai is willing to keep my secret, I’ll hand every one of them over to you.”
Bai Jiu glanced at it and burst out laughing.
“That’s it?”
“I know it’s beneath Master Bai’s notice, but this is only the appetizer. I’m about to enter the board of directors of Shengkai Foreign Trade. By then, I’ll control even more assets and resources. Master Bai won’t lose out.”
The way Bai Jiu looked at Zhou Ruo An was like a man watching a child perform a one-man play, carrying equal measures of pity and ridicule.
Smiling, he picked up his teacup and suddenly splashed the remaining tea across the asset statement. The paper was instantly soaked through. Ink bled and spread, blurring the words until they were unreadable.
“Master Bai isn’t short of this little bit of money, and I don’t buy empty promises.”
Throwing the teacup aside, Bai Jiu stood up and looked down at Zhou Ruo An from above. His voice carried a chill.
“Don’t try these little tricks with me. Just because I’m willing to indulge you right now doesn’t mean I’ll indulge you forever. Truth be told, I don’t mind using force either.”
He threw a room key card onto the messy table. It landed with a sharp snap.
“Tonight. Marriott, Room 1301. Young Master Zhou would do well to be sensible and come over on his own, clean and ready.”
With that, Bai Jiu turned and left the private room, leaving Zhou Ruo An sitting there alone.
Slowly raising a hand, Zhou Ruo An pressed it against his chest. Through the fabric of his suit, he traced the outline of the USB drive.
On the stage, joy, anger, sorrow, and delight continued to unfold. Zhou Ruo An’s gaze settled on the asset statement soaked with tea. A self-mocking smile curled at the corner of his lips.
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Futile Devices Scans 
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