Futile Devices Scans

When the drinking party finally broke up, Xue Bao Tian was already drunk. The moment the car entered the town, he told the driver to stop.

“Pull over. I’m getting out to get some air. You guys go on ahead. Don’t worry about me.”

There was a huge boulder at the corner of the street. When the weather was nice, an old woman would sit on it smoking from a long pipe. Xue Bao Tian had once been hooked by the pipe stem. A hand as dry and wrinkled as tree bark pointed toward a nearby house.

Snow flickered across the old television screen. Wearing a cold expression, Xue Bao Tian climbed onto the roof and fixed the signal receiver. When the majestic lion resumed patrolling its territory inside the television box, the old woman took out a pair of brocade trousers embroidered with auspicious cloud patterns from beside her loom, coughed a few times, and handed them to him.

Xue Bao Tian looked down on them, but accepted them anyway. The next day, he even wore the trousers while wandering around the street corner, leaving a few pears and some throat lozenges on the rock.

The stone had long since lost the warmth it held during the day. Sitting on it felt cold to the bone. His elbows braced on his knees, Xue Bao Tian lowered his muddled head, suppressing the waves of drunkenness that kept rolling through his body.

The car drove away, its sound fading into the distance. Through his blurred vision, a pair of leather shoes entered his sight. Xue Bao Tian slowly raised his head and saw Yan Ye.

“I told you to go back first.”

Yan Ye crouched down and opened a bottle of water. “Drink some water. Don’t sit on the stone. It’s cold.”

“Where should I sit then? You want me sitting on your lap again?” Xue Bao Tian slapped the bottle from his hand. “Yan Ye, you already have someone you like. Stop acting all clingy and affectionate. Can you raise your moral standards a little?”

Yan Ye shook the water from his hand, sounding somewhat helpless. “Xue Bao Tian, talk properly.”

The abrupt movement made Xue Bao Tian’s head spin even more. After fumbling several times, he finally dug a cigarette out of his pocket and stuck it between his lips.

“I’m not some fortune-teller in a public square,” he sneered through slurred speech. “I don’t have that many pleasant things to say for you to hear. Stay the hell away from me.”

Before he could finish speaking, the cigarette he had just put in his mouth was yanked away. Pain shot through his jaw as his chin was forcibly lifted.

Another dizzying wave crashed over him. Xue Bao Tian cursed.

“Fuck, Yan Ye, are you sick in the head?”

Yan Ye bent slightly and looked at him. His eyes were dark and unreadable, seeming even deeper than the endless night around them.

“The only responsibility I’m fulfilling right now is that of a friend. It doesn’t rise to the level of morality, it certainly doesn’t count as harassment, and it’s even less about currying favor. Master Xue, could you stop inserting yourself into the story?”

He crushed the cigarette between his fingers. Tobacco flakes drifted through the gaps and fell to the ground.

His voice carried no warmth.

“Master Xue doesn’t need to think he’s receiving special treatment. If any friend of mine got drunk, I would make sure they got home safely. So now, you’re coming back to the guesthouse with me. After that, you can do whatever you want. I won’t appear in front of you again.”

His thumb lightly brushed across the skin beneath Xue Bao Tian’s jaw.

“Either I help you walk back, or I carry you back over my shoulder. Master Xue, pick one.”

For no reason at all, Xue Bao Tian suddenly thought of that snowy night.

Yan Ye had crouched in front of him then, turning back with eyes that were clear and gentle as he said:

“Get on. I’ll carry you home.”

His head hurt even more now, and that battered, tattered heart of his decided to cause trouble as well, tugging at his heartstrings and drawing out threads of lingering pain.

“I don’t need—” The words had barely left his mouth when a sudden sound shattered the stillness of the night.

With a creak, the old house on the corner opened from within. The elderly woman, frail with age, stood in the doorway with a coat draped over her shoulders. Warm light spilled from the room behind her. A kettle seemed to be heating on the stove, and the rising steam made the old house look cozy and inviting.

Xue Bao Tian suddenly broke free of Yan Ye’s grasp and staggered to his feet. “I’m not choosing either. Isn’t General Manager Yan the kind of person who can’t stand seeing his friends wandering around outside? Then I’ll find somewhere nearby to stay. No need for you to trouble yourself.”

His head felt heavy and his feet unsteady as he stumbled toward the old house. Reaching the doorway, he bent slightly and said to the old woman, “Grandma, it’s me—the one who fixed your television.”

Leaning against the doorframe, he neither explained himself nor gave a reason.

“I want to stay here tonight.”

Whether or not the old woman understood Mandarin was impossible to tell, but she stepped aside and made room for him.

Xue Bao Tian lifted a foot over the threshold. Hearing Yan Ye call his name from behind, he turned back and said, “Isn’t General Manager Yan especially civic-minded?” He pointed at the cigarette crumbs on the ground. “You made that mess. Pick it up.”

The moment the old wooden door closed, Yan Ye’s brows knitted tightly together…

The old woman was not a talkative person. She arranged a single bed for Xue Bao Tian and brought over a brand-new blanket before hunching her back and disappearing into the inner room.

Xue Bao Tian was heavily intoxicated. He thought he would fall asleep the moment he lay down, but sleep never came. Instead, he stared at the aged ceiling.

The night was quiet. Only the kettle perched on the stove made soft knocking sounds as steam lifted the lid from time to time.

Inevitably, his thoughts drifted back to Yan Ye.

To Zhang Chi.

To the man who had walked toward him bathed in sunset light.

To that unbearably sweet “Two Hundred” whispered in his ear.

To their mutual attempts to destroy one another.

To their desperate entanglements.

“So fucking pathetic.”

The faint voice sliced through the heavy night.

“Xue Bao Tian, let it end.”

Carrying the weight of his drunkenness, he abruptly rolled upright and dug his wallet from his pocket. The inner compartment was bulging. Tucked inside were several neatly folded notes.

He unfolded them one by one.

Several names leapt into view:

Zhang Tian Ze.

Yan Ye.

Zhang Chi.

Xue Bao Tian still remembered the confession he had rehearsed just days ago:

Look, I can write all your names.

“You idiot.”

He cursed himself.

“I’ve practically worn my toenails down from cringing.”

The final note was pale yellow, folded with perfect precision and creased more neatly than all the others. Xue Bao Tian hesitated before slowly unfolding it.

Yan Ye’s handwriting.

The words he had written:

Xue Bao Tian.

Holding the note close to the stove, the name gradually became clear. His fingertips slowly traced the handwriting. Every stroke, every beginning and ending, every turn and pause, felt like a bloody knife carving into the tip of his heart.

An indescribable sorrow rose from nowhere.

He could neither break free from it nor escape it.

It imprisoned his entire body.

Even his breathing became shallow and fragmented.

There was no way out.

So this was what heartbreak felt like.

Xue Bao Tian laughed at himself.

It really wasn’t that much.

Nobody died from it.

He folded the note again, looked at his name one last time, and lifted the kettle.

The fire was not burning particularly strongly. It was the perfect time to add another piece of fuel.

The thin sheet of paper hovered over the stove.

The moment he released it, it fell.

The flames gently licked at the edges. The burned portions gradually curled inward, like a final struggle before death. Accompanied by the crackling of the fire, those names, those lingering attachments, and Xue Bao Tian’s brief first love all turned into ashes…

The nights in the mountains were long.

No one knew how much time had passed before Xue Bao Tian finally drifted toward sleep. In his hazy dreams, it seemed as if someone were blaring announcements through a loudspeaker directly beside his ear, repeatedly disturbing the hard-won peace of his slumber.

Instinctively reaching toward the source of the sound, Xue Bao Tian found his phone. Half-asleep, he pressed it to his ear and gave a groggy hum.

“Prosperity and Wealth Through Blooming Flowers? This is Lone Shadow Broken Blade.”

“Huh?”

“…Give me a chance, and I’ll give you a miracle.”

Xue Bao Tian slowly opened his eyes.

“You’re that… little hacker?”

“It’s me. I found a lead on Wei Hua.”

Xue Bao Tian shot upright from the bed.

“What did you say?!”

Still not fully sober, his legs remained weak. He crashed through the door of the old house and rushed outside, only to catch his foot on something and nearly fall.

Before he could curse, the obstacle spoke first.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s me.”

It was Yan Ye.

Xue Bao Tian glanced at Yan Ye, who was sitting beside the doorway with his knees drawn up, and frowned.

“What are you doing here?”

Yan Ye seemed momentarily speechless. Then he stood and pointed toward the stone.

“I just finished picking up the cigarette crumbs. I sat here to rest for a while.”

Studying the expression on Xue Bao Tian’s face, he immediately grew serious.

“What happened?”

Xue Bao Tian raised the phone clenched tightly in his hand.

“There’s a lead on Wei Hua.”

His excitement made him nearly incoherent.

“It’s not a lead on Wei Hua himself—it’s his ex-girlfriend. His ex-girlfriend has practically vanished from the face of the earth these past few years. There hasn’t been a single trace of activity. But just now, someone found that a bank card under her name was used to make a withdrawal. The transaction happened at a bank branch thirty kilometers away.”

Clutching the phone, Xue Bao Tian impatiently started walking.

“It’s the only lead we have right now. I need to go take a look. Right now. I’m going right now.”

“Master Xue! Xue Bao Tian!”

Yan Ye grabbed the panicked man and cupped his face in both hands.

“Don’t panic. Take a deep breath. Don’t panic.”

“This lead is valuable. We’ll head there immediately. But everything needs a plan. You have to stay calm. We can’t alert the enemy. Trust me. As long as Wei Hua shows himself, I’ll catch him.”

The rapid breathing gradually steadied.

The tightly gripped phone slipped back into his pocket.

Xue Bao Tian brushed Yan Ye’s hands away and stuck a cigarette into his mouth, biting down viciously.

“Wei Hua and I are long overdue for a reckoning.”

He strode toward the highway, lowering his head to light the cigarette as he walked. The night wind billowed his clothes. Bluish-white smoke blurred his features.

Turning his head, he cast Yan Ye a detached glance.

“I can’t keep being your burden anymore, either.”

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