Back in Hang Shi, Xu Huaisong began going to the law firm from nine to five, pouring more of his energy into the Zhou Jun case.

Ruan Yu understood why.

The decade-old case had already been turned over exhaustively by those who came before. As a lawyer, there was very little more he could do for it.

And yet they had all seen it — ten full years of it: how Xu Huaisong’s mother had carried her guilt, how his father had borne the weight of public condemnation, how the victim’s family had never found peace, and how the suspect who had been acquitted had fallen into ruin and poverty.

Three families, all left devastated by that one case.

Xu Huaisong was powerless to do anything about it, and so he was trying to find some measure of hope in the similar Zhou Jun case.

If the Zhou Jun case could be brought to light, if tragedy could be kept from repeating itself, he could prove to his mother that perhaps his father had not been wrong all those years ago.

While he was consumed with the case, Ruan Yu found it dull at home. Whenever she did not need to go to Huan Shi, she would wake up early and attach herself to him, accompanying him to the law firm to revise her script, declaring that this way they could save on the electricity bill at home.

Xu Huaisong did not expose the flaw in her logic. The electricity at the law firm was something he paid for — it was still money from the same pocket.

More than half a month passed. Because Zhou Jun had consistently maintained his plea of innocence throughout questioning, and the factual evidence was insufficient, the procuratorate put forward a request for supplementary investigation of the case.

Zhang Ling and Xu Huaisong, who had been running themselves ragged over this, finally had a chance to breathe.

But when Ruan Yu counted the days on her fingers, she realized he would soon be heading back to the United States.

Worried he might “take off without warning” again the way he had last time, Ruan Yu thought to ask him about it in advance.

Xu Huaisong was sitting at his computer working. He took a sip of the milk she had brought him and said: “I can leave a few days later than originally planned.”

“Can the date of a court hearing really be pushed back just like that?”

Xu Huaisong shook his head: “It’s not a hearing. I was originally going back to sign several important documents that had just been generated a couple of days ago — documents that couldn’t use electronic signatures and couldn’t risk being sent by post.”

“So you don’t need to sign them now?”

“I still need to sign them.”

“Then why don’t you need to go anymore?”

Ruan Yu blinked, slightly puzzled. Xu Huaisong was always precise and to the point when he spoke — it was rare for him to take two attempts and still not get to the bottom of things.

What was going on?

He was quiet for a moment, then said: “Come here.”

Ruan Yu walked over, not entirely sure why, and then found herself pulled into his arms.

Once she was settled on his lap, Xu Huaisong finally explained: “Lu Shenglan happens to be coming to China on business. She said she could pick up the documents on her way and bring them for me to sign, then carry them back to San Francisco herself.”

So that was how he had managed to stay by her side a few extra days. No wonder he had been vague about it.

Ruan Yu stilled for a moment, then nodded to show she understood.

Xu Huaisong looked down at her: “Don’t overthink it — it’s just a few documents. There’s no need to meet in person. I’ll have Xiao Chen pick them up for me.”

“Mm…” Ruan Yu drew out the syllable and paused before saying, “That’s not what I was thinking. I just feel like… she can actually help you with things, while I only ever put you through trouble going back and forth for my sake.”

“Colleagues naturally share each other’s workload. Besides, I’m not doing this back-and-forth for you.”

“Hmm?”

Xu Huaisong smiled: “Not being able to see you — that’s what I find hardest to bear.”

Ruan Yu said nothing in reply, but the corners of her eyes lifted with a smile. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a brief kiss to his chin, her lips barely there before they pulled away.

Xu Huaisong lowered his head and spent thirty times as long in a drawn-out exchange with her lips.

Three days later, Ruan Yu went to Huan Shi for a script meeting as usual.

Xu Huaisong walked her to the door and reminded her to stay in contact at all times as before, avoid being alone, and if she crossed paths with Wei Jin, to act naturally.

The police investigation was closing in step by step. As someone with inside knowledge, Ruan Yu had to act as though she knew nothing at all — so after getting out of the car she quietly rehearsed her expressions and words in her mind.

In reality, though, the sort of dilemma she had been preparing for never materialized. Half the day went by, and the meeting room on the seventh floor remained perfectly calm and uneventful. Wei Jin, up on the nineteenth floor, did not come down once.

Just as she was reflecting on her good fortune, lunchtime arrived — and she saw the secretary to the producer Zheng Shan come in delivering milk tea again.

The exact same brand and flavor as last time.

The thought that had just flashed through her mind was confirmed by a WeChat message that arrived at the same moment.

Li Shican: Don’t worry — I’m right here on the nineteenth floor.

So her good luck had been an illusion after all.

It was Li Shican who had found some excuse or other to come up to the nineteenth floor and enjoy the air conditioning, and in doing so had spared her from any possible encounter with Wei Jin.

She replied: Thank you. Sorry to put you out — another day of your time wasted.

Li Shican: It’s nothing. I’ve got nothing going on, and the air conditioning up here is great and doesn’t cost me a thing.

She did not reply further. Just as she was about to press the lock screen button, she suddenly noticed a new friend request at the bottom of the screen.

She tapped it open. It appeared to be a newly registered account with a default profile picture. The verification message read: Hello, I’m Lu Shenglan.

Ruan Yu was taken aback.

Two days ago, Lu Shenglan had sent an assistant to deliver the documents to the law firm — tactfully keeping her distance and not meeting with Xu Huaisong in person. By now she should have retrieved the documents with his signature as well. What did she mean by suddenly adding her on WeChat?

Baffled, Ruan Yu accepted the request.

Lu Shenglan sent a message promptly, getting straight to the point: Hello, Miss Ruan. I apologize for the intrusion. I’m flying back to the United States today, and I’d like to invite you for tea before I leave — if it’s convenient for you.

Ruan Yu did happen to have a lunch break.

But why was she suddenly inviting her for tea?

She hovered over the conversation for quite some time, just about to exit and ask Xu Huaisong what this was about — when another message appeared: I don’t have any ulterior motives. I just want to talk with you about how Huaisong has been in the United States. If you’re agreeable, I’d like to ask you to keep this between us for now.

About how he had been in the United States?

Ruan Yu frowned slightly and typed: I’m at Huan Shi, and only have an hour.

Lu Shenglan: Then I’ll drive over. Can you be at the main entrance in ten minutes?

Soft Jade: Yes.

Ruan Yu went down to the Huan Shi entrance and got into Lu Shenglan’s car.

She was in her usual neat, professional attire. Seeing Ruan Yu, she took off her sunglasses and greeted her. After that, neither spoke for the rest of the journey, until they were settled inside a private room at a tea house across the street.

The tea was served. Noticing that the person across from her seemed to still be gathering her thoughts, Ruan Yu ventured first: “Miss Lu, how did you get my WeChat?”

Lu Shenglan lowered her eyes and smiled faintly: “That time.”

Four simple words, and the atmosphere in the room suddenly solidified.

Lu Shenglan then looked up directly: “I’m sorry for what happened that day. But I’m not here to apologize today. What I’m about to say will give rise to a new kind of regret on my part — only, if I don’t say it, you may never know.”

Ruan Yu’s brow furrowed slightly.

Coming out of the tea house and returning to Huan Shi, Ruan Yu spent the entire afternoon in a state of distraction. She was called on by the producer several times and could not even make out the questions being discussed.

It was not until the meeting wrapped up at dusk, and Xu Huaisong told her he was already waiting at the entrance, that she pulled herself together and went downstairs.

In the lobby on the ground floor, Li Shican was sitting in an armchair with his elbow propped up, scrolling on his phone. As she stepped out of the elevator, he glanced up at her.

Ruan Yu was mildly surprised for a moment, then understood.

He must have timed the end of the meeting and come to make sure she got home safely.

It seemed a little excessive, but it was touching all the same.

She gave him a grateful look, then walked out of the lobby and settled into the front passenger seat of Xu Huaisong’s car. She buckled her seatbelt, but the car did not move.

Xu Huaisong had his head slightly turned, his gaze still resting in the direction of the lobby.

Ruan Yu followed his gaze and saw Li Shican glance over toward them once, then pick up his phone and walk away.

She started to explain: “He was there because…”

“I know,” Xu Huaisong said, cutting her off.

Even from a distance, Li Shican’s intention had been perfectly clear to him.

He said: “That’s good. I feel better knowing he’s there — your safety is what matters most.”

Ruan Yu studied his expression and saw that he genuinely meant it. She said nothing more and leaned her head back against the headrest.

Xu Huaisong turned to look at her, noticed her listless expression, and asked: “What’s wrong?”

She opened her mouth and closed it again. After a pause, she shook her head: “Nothing. Just tired from the meeting.”

“Then let’s not go home to cook. We’ll eat out tonight.”

“Mm.”

The car eased into motion and merged into the endless flow of traffic.

Ruan Yu turned her face toward the window and watched the sky grow gradually darker, the tall streetlamps along the road lighting up one by one — just as Lu Shenglan’s unhurried words at noon had, sentence by sentence, slowly illuminated the parts of Xu Huaisong’s world that Ruan Yu had never been able to see.

“You probably don’t know why Huaisong chose to study law in the first place. The truth is, he didn’t understand his father from the very beginning. Back then, he also felt that Uncle Xu seemed like a villain — the kind who takes people’s money and gets them off no matter what they’ve done. So when he first chose to go to the United States to study law, it was because he wanted to become a different kind of lawyer from his father. Looking back now, it was perhaps a little naive, a little absurd.”

“Being a person of East Asian descent over there is not easy. I managed all right — I’d been there since I was young and had many friends at school. But he had none of that. He was entirely on his own, and when he faced discrimination and unfair treatment, the only thing he had to answer with was his results.”

“Americans do respond to that. As his marks placed him at the top of his cohort again and again, they gradually came around and began to concede — saying that the Chinese boy was a genius. But what they didn’t know was that the genius they spoke of had been hospitalized twice from overwork.”

“He graduated with the best results in his year and passed the most difficult bar examination in the country. But afterward, as you’ve probably guessed — he had gone into law driven by a spirit of defiance, and walked a road of friction and conflict with his father every step of the way. Yet in the end, after becoming a lawyer himself, he found himself retracing his father’s footsteps one step at a time, the sharp edges worn smooth, coming to understand the burden his father had carried.”

“The day Uncle Xu suffered a sudden cerebral infarction and was diagnosed with vascular dementia, Huaisong sat alone in the hospital through the night. After that, he began taking over his father’s cases, shouldering them one by one. He never said a word about it, but I could see — from that point on, he had truly put his whole heart into it. Being a lawyer was no longer a job to him. It had become a vocation.”

“You might find it hard to imagine, but someone like him once had a smoking habit. It started not long after Uncle Xu fell ill. The pressure in those first two years was simply too great — there was no other way, he had to rely on something external just to get through it. It wasn’t until the third year that he returned to himself and gave up the cigarettes.”

“The person you see now is the version of him that exists after eight years of fighting his way through everything — the brilliant, accomplished version. He has the means now, so he can come back whenever he says he will. But that doesn’t mean the things he gave up came cheaply.”

“None of this is something anyone else would know. If I don’t tell you, he may never bring it up with you himself. And I feel it’s better that I open my mouth and say it, even if it means overstepping — because after all, you and I were never going to become friends anyway.”

“Let me say one last thing that you may not like to hear: giving up eight years of a career he fought for — perhaps he truly does it willingly, but it is not a matter to be taken for granted. If you still will not consider going to the United States to meet him halfway, then at the very least — treasure the sacrifice he has made.”

Ruan Yu pressed her lips together. She watched the traffic moving past the window and tightened her grip around the passport inside her bag.

Author’s Note: Oh my, how did it get so late — I’m sorry!