The moment Cheng Yao stepped out of the conference room, she called Qin Qin to demand an explanation.

“What escort?! That’s my boss! How on earth did you mistake him for an escort?!” Cheng Yao was nearly in tears. “Do you have any idea how badly you’ve screwed me over?”

“That doesn’t make sense! I clearly heard him negotiating the price with that middle-aged rich woman from start to finish! How did he turn into your boss? Are you sure you’ve got the right person?”

“Tell me exactly what you heard, word for word.”

“He said his rate was ten thousand an hour, rounded up to the nearest hour, and if the service took place somewhere else, travel time would be billed at six thousand an hour round trip. He also said appointments needed to be booked in advance because he had too many clients to keep up with,” Qin Qin rattled off. “Isn’t that exactly what an escort would say? Can lawyers even charge like that? Are lawyers that rich? Aren’t lawyers all like you, working like dogs? Since when does a service industry get to be that domineering?”

Cheng Yao nearly fainted. “In China’s legal market, the top twenty percent of lawyers monopolize eighty percent of the business. He’s a partner at Junheng — charging like that is completely reasonable!”

Now even Qin Qin started to panic. “So — so what do we do?”

“Do me a favor and send me a lifetime supply of heart medication.”

Cheng Yao hung up, utterly drained.

Qian Heng didn’t come find her, but the lawyers on his team came over on their own to greet her.

“Cheng Yao, welcome to our Wealth and Glory crew.”

“Huh?”

“Joining Partner Qian’s team is basically the start of a lifelong romance with wealth and glory — do good work and you’ll never lack for money.” The one talking to her was a slightly plump young man with fair skin, wearing glasses, looking rather affable. “I’m Bao Rui. I’ve been at Junheng for four years. Ask me anything if you’re not sure about something. Come on, I’ll show you around the firm.”

Bao Rui was quite enthusiastic, friendly and easygoing. “We currently have five partners at Junheng, but the two who handle the main decision-making are Partner Qian and Partner Wu — Wu Jun. Actually, the firm’s name comes from combining their names. They’re college classmates, both graduates of A University’s law school.”

Cheng Yao was surprised — she hadn’t realized Wu Jun and Qian Heng were alumni of her own sister Cheng Xi’s school. Curious, she asked Bao Rui when Wu Jun and Qian Heng had graduated — not the same year as her sister; the two were her sister’s seniors.

“You won’t run into Partner Wu at the firm that often, though, since he handles our external business development and media relations — he’s out and about most of the time.”

“Media? Relations?”

Bao Rui nodded. “Right. To put it plainly, Partner Wu is basically out there pimping — drumming up clients and marketing the firm to drive up our rates — while Partner Qian focuses on the actual client-facing service work. Partner Qian prefers to concentrate on the technical side of things and finds dealing with clients too tedious and distracting, while Partner Wu loves that social side and can’t stand dry legal texts.”

Cheng Yao suddenly understood — wasn’t this exactly the same logic as organizing prostitution? Wu Jun, with his strong interpersonal skills and social finesse, handled recruiting and connecting escorts with clients, while Qian Heng, bad-tempered but technically excellent, was essentially the one actually doing the “servicing.” From that angle, calling him a “prostitute” wasn’t really that far off, was it…

It wasn’t until Bao Rui’s voice cut back in that Cheng Yao finally stopped teetering on the edge of dangerous thoughts.

“This is our lounge. We have tea breaks every day at ten in the morning and three in the afternoon. Partner Qian has very high standards for quality of life, so the tea-time snacks are all top-tier brands. We don’t drink Starbucks here — only freshly ground coffee, with beans flown in specially from Sumatra at Partner Qian’s request.”

Was this really necessary…

“This is our archive room, where all case files are organized and filed by category. And this is the gym.”

Cheng Yao was genuinely stunned. “There’s even a gym?”

“Yep. Anyone who checks in at the gym consistently for a month gets a bonus.” Bao Rui shrugged. “But no one’s ever claimed it.”

“Is everyone too busy?”

“No, it’s because Partner Qian is usually the one working out here.” Bao Rui scratched his head and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “His aura clears a ten-meter radius — nothing grows there.”

“…” Cheng Yao thought that if she was about to move in with Qian Heng, she really did need to go stock up on heart medication.

“This little side room is where Partner Qian’s trophies are kept.” Bao Rui said this while pushing open the door of a small room off the archive area.

Cheng Yao looked up to find a wall covered in colorful banners — “Industry Conscience,” “Ever-Victorious General,” “Voice of the Law,” “Guardian of the People’s Wealth” — that sort of exaggerated praise filled her view.

Bao Rui cleared his throat. “These are all gifts from clients. There are just too many, so they end up stored in here.”

Cheng Yao was quite taken aback. “So Lawyer Qian is actually held in such high regard by his clients — he’s gotten this much positive feedback…” Wasn’t he supposed to be the industry’s toxic blight, according to everyone outside the firm?

Bao Rui clearly caught the subtext in her words. He cleared his throat again and pointed to a row of cabinets in the room. “Well, aside from these banners, Partner Qian’s also gotten no shortage of threatening letters, insulting banners, and even blood letters and funeral urns from opposing parties. That whole row of cabinets holds those…”

Cheng Yao glanced around the room’s layout — that row of cabinets took up roughly four-fifths of the space…

Right.

Sure enough, a glance at those cabinets revealed labels like “Blight,” “Utterly Without Scruples,” “Money-Obsessed”…

Cheng Yao had a rough idea of why Qian Heng had earned such a reputation — he only accepted cases based on the amount at stake and the fee involved. As long as the money was there, he’d take it.

In his second year of practice, he’d taken on a wealthy businessman’s divorce case.

The businessman had consulted a number of lawyers across City A, and every one of them told him the same thing: since he was the one who’d cheated, he’d be treated as the at-fault party and would likely have to give up a significant portion of his premarital assets. But in the end, under Qian Heng’s defense, the businessman walked away with almost everything intact, while his ex-wife came away with next to nothing.

Qian Heng made his name off that case.

It had been a highly publicized case at the time, with plenty of media coverage, and the outcome ran almost completely counter to public morality — the person who’d betrayed the marriage got the favorable ruling, while the one who’d honored their vows ended up with nothing.

Qian Heng got dragged through the mud in public opinion for it.

After that, he took on all sorts of family law cases. His clients were, without exception, far from innocent, and yet under his defense, they always managed to secure the law’s “favor.”

For a while, the name Qian Heng had become practically synonymous with a corrupt lawyer.

“Bao Rui, file this threatening letter.”

Just as Cheng Yao’s thoughts were wandering, Qian Heng pushed open the door to the little room and walked in, tossing a bag of something to Bao Rui as he spoke.

“From the opposing party in that family trust dispute last time.”

Cheng Yao couldn’t help herself. “They’re all abuse and curses — why keep them at all?”

Could it be that even someone as toxic as Qian Heng had some kind of conscience buried in there? Even though he took on all sorts of morally questionable cases to make a living, maybe deep down there was some part of him with a moral compass, keeping these bitter, tearful accusations from opposing parties as a way to soothe his own soul?

Qian Heng gave Cheng Yao a light, dismissive glance. “In case any of these people try to retaliate against me in the future, I can submit these letters as physical evidence. The more evidence, the better — that’s how you build a complete chain of evidence to pin down the culprit.”

“…”

I really was overthinking it, Cheng Yao thought to herself. Toxic is toxic, through and through.

After Qian Heng left, Bao Rui introduced Cheng Yao to a few more colleagues, and she began to realize just how deep the talent pool at Junheng really ran — nearly everyone was a graduate of a top school, and quite a few had overseas study experience, useful for handling cross-border family cases. Very few were, like Cheng Yao, graduates of a non-elite “211” school, and their practical experience far outstripped hers as well.

Cheng Yao felt like the weakest link in the entire firm, fit only to cower quietly in a corner.

“Besides me, there’s one more new person on our team — you probably saw her at the meeting earlier. That’s Tan Ying, the one with the slightly wavy hair and the oval face. She joined two months before you. She’s a fresh graduate from A University’s law school, a master’s degree, and she’s actually Partner Qian’s direct junior alumna. She’s out delivering documents right now — I’ll introduce you two later.”

Cheng Yao remembered Tan Ying — quite pretty, and her clothes clearly showed she came from a well-off family. And her academic credentials were impressive too.

Comparing herself to that, Cheng Yao felt even more anxious. Her professional background wasn’t as strong as the others — she’d just have to make up for it with hard work.

The afternoon passed by, and Qian Heng never emerged from his office all day. Cheng Yao clocked out nervously and, with the help of Li Mengting and her boyfriend Zhang Hao, finally managed to move her things into the new apartment.

Just after seeing off Li Mengting and Zhang Hao, the key turned in the lock — Qian Heng was back.

His handsome, insufferable face was set in its usual expression of lofty aloofness.

Cheng Yao hesitated a moment before deciding to make the first friendly gesture. She put on a smile. “Boss, you can have the south-facing room — it’s bigger and gets better light.”

Qian Heng narrowed his eyes and gave her a light once-over. “Oh. Learning some manners, are we.”

“…”

Stay calm, Cheng Yao. You’re meant for bigger things. You’re a future pillar of socialist legal construction. You cannot get arrested for assault right now!

Perhaps because he was a man, Qian Heng didn’t have nearly as much luggage as Cheng Yao. He dragged his suitcase into the south-facing room, but emerged again shortly after.

His face had gone pale, his voice trembling with something close to disbelief. “Do you know what’s in there?”

Cheng Yao: ?

“A cockroach!” Qian Heng’s expression was one of total incomprehension. “What kind of place is this? There are cockroaches!”

Cheng Yao stayed perfectly calm. What a spoiled young master. It’s just a cockroach…

“If an ordinary household spots one cockroach, that means there are twenty thousand more hiding somewhere in the house,” Qian Heng said, his face twisted with disgust. “This place is filthy.”

So then why did you decide to move here in the first place…

Just as Cheng Yao was silently grumbling to herself, her esteemed boss spoke again. “Clean my room for me.”

Does he think that just because he’s the boss, he can do whatever he wants?! Cheng Yao thought. I won’t let him get away with it!

Cheng Yao steeled herself and spoke with dignity. “Even though you’re my boss at the firm, once we clock out, we’re just roommates. My consultation fee may not be as high as yours, but I’m still a lawyer — didn’t you teach me that yourself? Lawyers shouldn’t easily bow to the power dynamics of rank, and lawyers providing professional services shouldn’t waste time on low-end, cheap labor…”

“How long would it take you to clean my room?”

Cheng Yao thought it over and made up some nonsense on the spot. “About forty minutes. But I once read an article saying the real difference between people comes down to how they spend their time after work. I was planning to use these forty minutes to study law…”

Some things in life just require setting boundaries from the very start — you can’t be a pushover!

“I’ll give you a thousand yuan. Deal or no deal? Your consultation rate is a thousand an hour, and cleaning my room takes forty minutes — that’s more than fair.” As he spoke, Qian Heng pulled out a stack of cash from his wallet. “Cash, right now.”

“…”

“You have one minute to decide. After that, the offer’s off the table.”

“Thank you, boss! Actually, I believe no occupation is inherently lower than another — everyone should be treated with the same respect we give our clients! Physical labor is just as worthy of praise as mental labor!”

Cheng Yao had completely abandoned her principles, selling out without so much as a fight…

After finishing up in Qian Heng’s bedroom, this long-vacant apartment promptly presented a new problem.

Qian Heng stood in the kitchen, his handsome brow furrowed as if about to file a grievance. “Why is there no water?”

Cheng Yao checked. “The water bill’s paid, so it’s definitely not a shutoff for non-payment.”

“Then the place has been empty too long — the faucet filter’s probably clogged or the pipes have rusted. Just needs clearing out.”

Cheng Yao nodded in agreement, then looked expectantly at Qian Heng.

But Qian Heng didn’t budge.

Surely her handsome boss, having so keenly identified the problem, was now going to get to work fixing it?

Qian Heng glanced at Cheng Yao and held out his hand. “Do you see my hands?”

Cheng Yao nodded, not quite following.

“Describe them for me. What kind of hands are these?”

“Very… pale?”

“And?”

“Long fingers?”

“Keep going.”

“Beautiful hands?”

Qian Heng narrowed his eyes. “And the skin condition?”

Even though Cheng Yao privately felt something was off about her boss asking her to describe his hands, she answered on instinct, “Very smooth?”

“Do they look like they’ve done manual labor?”

“They don’t.”

Qian Heng gave a small snort through his nose. “So — do you think hands like these are suited to clearing out pipes?”

“…”

“I’ll add two hundred more.” Qian Heng smiled faintly, waving that pampered hand at Cheng Yao. “Off you go.”

“…”

“Hmm? Any objections?”

Cheng Yao was almost speechless. “Isn’t clearing pipes normally a man’s job?”

Qian Heng gave her a glance. “This is the new era. There’s no such thing as jobs men should do and jobs women should do. Men and women are equal — we shouldn’t have preconceived gender biases. Women hold up half the sky.”

“…”

“Off you go. Believe in yourself. You can do it.” Qian Heng patted Cheng Yao’s shoulder and strolled off with great flourish.