Futile Devices Scans

Once night fell, the alleyways filled with smoky street stalls.

A clay pot sat atop a gas burner, spicy broth bubbling away, stirring people’s appetites.

Feng Jia slid a strip of tripe off a skewer and dipped it into the sauce before putting it into his mouth.

The phone lying on the table suddenly rang.

Three words appeared on the screen:

Crown Prince.

Quickly swallowing the food in his mouth, he answered the call and greeted him, “Master Xue.”

“Call me Brother Xue.” The voice on the other end was slightly cold, carrying a trace of hesitation that was difficult to detect. “Jiajia, can I ask you something if you’ve got time?” He clicked his tongue. “Brother Xue considers you a friend. Can I get your real name for once?”

Feng Jia froze for a moment before immediately sitting up straight.

“Feng Jia. Brother Xue, my name is Feng Jia. Jia as in carnival.”

“Jia as in carnival?” The person on the other end pondered for a moment. “Fuck if I know how to write it, but it sounds nice.”

Feng Jia smiled softly and asked, “Brother Xue, is this about that thing you asked me last time?”

Thousands of miles away, Xue Bao Tian was crouching by the roadside in a border town with a cigarette between his fingers, glancing sideways at the town’s only adult-products store.

“I want to ask… my friend wants to ask… if just putting in more effort in bed is a bit too superficial.”

“Superficial?” Feng Jia’s professional instincts immediately kicked in. “Don’t keep it superficial. The deeper the better.”

“Fuck, Feng’er, can you look at this from outside your profession for once?”

Feng Jia stuffed another piece of tripe into his mouth and spoke around it. “Brother, what do you mean by superficial?”

Xue Bao Tian dropped onto the curb. “My… friend means he doesn’t want sleeping together to feel like repaying a debt. That feels kind of cheap.”

Feng Jia set down his chopsticks and pressed the phone closer to his ear. “Brother Xue, since you consider me a friend, tell me the truth. That friend you keep talking about—isn’t that actually you? And the person treating you well—isn’t he that construction worker I met?”

Xue Bao Tian hooked his toe against the pavement and swallowed.

After a long pause, he finally asked, “How did you know?”

“There’s a rule about people who keep saying ‘I have a friend.’ Besides, the first time I met that construction worker, I already felt like the relationship between you two wasn’t ordinary.”

Xue Bao Tian frowned. “Back then, we…” He thought carefully about it. Back then, he and Yan Ye had already been secretly sleeping together.

Deflating completely, Xue Bao Tian admitted, “Fine, you guessed right. There’s no friend. It’s my own problem.”

Feng Jia asked in surprise, “Brother Xue, are you gay now?”

Xue Bao Tian jumped. “Bullshit. The construction worker’s young, looks decent enough, and Master Xue was bored, so I slept with him for a while.”

He heard Feng Jia chuckling on the other end. Just as he was about to curse him out, Feng Jia asked, “Recently that construction worker has helped you a lot, right? Brother Xue, you’re grateful and want to repay him somehow, but you’re worried he’ll think you’re not sincere enough. Is that it?”

Xue Bao Tian nodded. “That’s exactly it.”

Feng Jia wiped his mouth, set down his chopsticks, and said seriously, “Brother, you like him. You like that construction worker.”

The cigarette slipped from Xue Bao Tian’s lips and burned a hole in his pants.

Yan Ye had gone into the city to handle some business. Before leaving, he had given extremely detailed instructions to the people maintaining the stakeout.

What exactly he had gone to do, Yan Ye never said, and Xue Bao Tian never asked. Recently they had maintained a strange sort of harmony. Apart from the awkward distance that still lingered in bed, they seemed to keep a polite social distance during all other moments.

Xue Bao Tian sat on the bed in a daze for quite some time.

Feng Jia’s words replayed over and over in his head.

You like him. You like that construction worker.

He buried his face in his hands and rubbed hard.

Then he pulled out a sheet of paper and drew a line down the middle.

Muttering to himself, he said, “First, list the disadvantages of being gay.”

As he thought, he began writing.

“Can’t get married.” Then he snorted disdainfully. “Not like I fucking want to get married anyway. Can’t have children. Who needs those things? Wanting one is basically asking for trouble. Can’t carry on the family line. There’s no amazing Xue family genetics worth passing down anyway. People might point fingers. If anyone dares talk shit about me, I’ll fucking kill them.”

After filling one side with all sorts of points, Xue Bao Tian began listing the advantages of being gay on the other side.

After writing only two words, he stared at them for a very long time.

“Zhang Chi.”

The name slipped softly off his tongue, carrying a gentleness he himself failed to notice.

Smiling, he set down the pen.

“Enough.”

Xue Bao Tian accepted his new identity with astonishing speed.

A trace of excitement lit up his face.

The corners of his eyes curved slightly upward.

His chest felt light and full at the same time.

Inside him, something swelled like a sail filled with wind.

The violent beating of his heart shattered the stillness of a tranquil lake, sending ripples spreading across its surface and leaving behind threads of sweetness.

The confusion, inner conflict, and disappointment he had once felt, the sleepless nights spent tossing and turning, the melancholy he had experienced when Yan Ye turned and walked away on Chuanyue Mountain, the hope he had cherished during that snowy night that the road might stretch on a little longer—all of it finally found its answer with the writing of the two words:

Zhang Chi.

Xue Bao Tian forcefully pushed open the bamboo window and took in the layered mountain scenery before him. The wind carried a gentle dampness, and as he took a deep breath and slowly let it settle within his body, it unexpectedly felt refreshing to the heart and soul.

Suddenly, he wanted very badly to see that person.

Xue Bao Tian pulled up Yan Ye’s photograph on his phone—the only one he had. It had been taken about half a year ago. Xue Bao Tian had been shamelessly taking selfies but had forgotten to switch the camera around. His finger had moved faster than his brain, and with a light tap, he had accidentally captured Yan Ye sitting opposite him. Xue Bao Tian clicked his tongue and had intended to delete it. His finger hovered over the trash icon, but when he caught sight of Yan Ye’s smiling eyes looking toward the camera, his hand slipped.

Turning off the screen, he remembered what he had said at the time.

“Hazardous waste belongs where it belongs.”

In the photograph, Yan Ye’s eyes were smiling as he looked at the person behind the camera, his gaze both indulgent and coaxing. Xue Bao Tian’s finger slid across the screen as he laughed and cursed, “Fuck, that look. He could look at a dog and make it seem affectionate.”

Using two fingers, he enlarged the photograph and studied it carefully. Yan Ye was handsome, tall, exceptionally skilled, and mild-tempered. As long as you avoided stepping on his landmines, you could scold him or hit him as you pleased, knead him into a ball or flatten him out however you wanted. For someone that rare, what was the point of being brothers or friends? Dating him would be far more satisfying.

His narrow eyelids lifted.

A troublesome question suddenly occurred to him.

How was he supposed to confess?

He had drifted through countless romantic encounters and spent years fooling around, yet he had never once had a serious relationship. Xue Bao Tian had a difficult personality and a sharp tongue. Few women were willing to make trouble for themselves. The ones who had shown interest generally wanted his money. Yet from the days when he had been “Young Master Xue” to the time he became “Master Xue,” he had never properly dated a single woman. There had never been any shortage of women around him. They came when called and left when dismissed. He enjoyed the freedom of it and had never intended to settle beneath a single tree.

Now, however, he had developed these genuine feelings—feelings meant to last from morning until night, day after day—and he wanted it to be just like it was in television dramas, sickeningly sweet and sweet enough to make one’s teeth ache.

Beneath his pillow were several county-restricted items he had purchased earlier that day from the adult-products store. He knew Yan Ye would definitely like them. Confessing while pulling on a bell would certainly be exciting, but somehow he felt that all the passion lacked a little romance and tenderness.

His wandering gaze swept across the room and suddenly landed on the wallet resting on the table.

Walking over, he opened it.

Inside a hidden compartment in the third layer was a note.

The pale yellow slip of paper unfolded, revealing three characters written upon it. They were not ugly, but they certainly were not beautiful either.

Xue Bao Tian.

Gently rubbing the paper between his fingers, Xue Bao Tian still remembered the shock and tingling sweetness he had felt when he first saw that note. The sensation had spread throughout his entire body, coursing through every nerve ending before exploding into dazzling white blossoms of light.

Back then, he had deliberately refused to think too deeply about it.

Now he was finally willing to admit it.

He had fallen for Yan Ye long ago.

Or perhaps, ever since Zhang Chi, those roots of affection had already taken hold deep within him.

He suddenly knew how he wanted to confess.

Pulling out three sheets of paper, Xue Bao Tian solemnly wrote down three names.

Yan Ye.

Zhang Tian Ze.

Zhang Chi.

See? I can write your name too. Every one of your names. I can write them all.

Xue Bao Tian shivered.

It was unbearably cheesy.

Yet at the same time, he felt rather pleased with himself.

Fuck, I’m actually a one-of-a-kind romance genius.

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