“Oh, right—tomorrow afternoon, you’re coming with me to City B.” Qian Heng finally seemed to remember business after finishing his admiring survey of Cheng Yao’s blooming expression. “It’s a family trust dispute case. The retainer agreement’s already signed, and since a lot of the evidence needs to be gathered in City B, we’ll head over tomorrow and get straight to work.”
Cheng Yao blinked, a little caught off guard. “Tomorrow?” So sudden?
Qian Heng seemed to already know what she was thinking. “The client’s been living abroad for a long time. Tomorrow he happens to be back in the country briefly on urgent business, and he won’t be staying long, so we need to move fast and go over the case with him.”
“Just… just the two of us?”
This time Qian Heng didn’t even look up. “Mm. I trust you.”
Was that really how Qian Heng saw her professional ability now? Cheng Yao felt a little thrill inside—bringing neither Bao Rui nor Tan Ying, only her, and he still felt at ease about it?
“Although it is a bit delicate, a man and a woman going on a business trip together, I do trust your self-control.”
Cheng Yao: ???
“You’ve lived with me for this long and behaved yourself admirably.”
Wait a second…
Under Cheng Yao’s dumbfounded stare, Qian Heng smiled faintly and said, with the air of solemn advice, “Keep it up. You’ve passed the test.”
At that moment, Cheng Yao wanted nothing more than to howl at the sky. Qian Heng!! You can rest a million hearts easy!! In that particular department!! You have absolutely nothing to worry about!!!!
Cheng Yao stormed back to her room in a huff, and out of pure spite, pulled up a Japanese horror film to watch.
There’s a certain tendency in people—the more they know they shouldn’t do something, the more eager they become to try it, knowingly walking straight toward the tiger on the mountain. Cheng Yao was, in truth, both timid and afraid of ghosts, yet toward horror films she held a reckless, almost self-destructive fascination.
Hugging a pillow, hiding her eyes under the blanket, with only a small night-light on in the room and a bag of chips at her side, she crunched away at the chips amid the eerie sound effects while secretly watching the horror movie—scared and uneasy, yet carrying a little thrill of excitement, her emotions taut one moment and swept along with the plot the next, frightened and exhilarated all at once.
It sounded a bit masochistic when put that way, but often after finishing a horror film like this, there’d be a sense of complete emotional release and relaxation—ah! Finally! She’d made it through!
At times like that, she’d usually feel utterly refreshed and satisfied. Of course, there were side effects too. On the night she watched a horror film, Cheng Yao generally had to keep the night-light on all night; only with that warm little glow could she fall asleep at ease. She still didn’t have the nerve to sleep in a pitch-black room right after watching something that atmospheric and terrifying.
Unfortunately, tonight was a bit out of the ordinary.
Just as Cheng Yao reached the most bone-chilling part of the film, where the protagonist trapped in the haunted house fell prey to the ghost’s hunt, without any warning, every light in the room went out. In an instant, only the computer screen remained, casting a faint ghostly glow, and then a shadowy figure, accompanied by terrifying sound effects, drifted suddenly into view—its rotted eye sockets seeming to stare straight through the screen at Cheng Yao, locking eyes with her for one full second.
Cheng Yao clamped the blanket over her mouth, only just managing to suppress a scream that could have rivaled a soprano’s highest note.
She only had time to jam one foot into a single cotton slipper before scrambling and half-crawling out of the room, frantically flipping every light switch in the living room—but not a single light came on, only the pale, ghastly moonlight sweeping in through the window.
It was winter, and everyone went to bed early; even the lights in the building next door had mostly gone dark, leaving everything looking bleak and lifeless. Thinking back to the horror film she’d just watched, Cheng Yao felt a chill creep up the legs of her pajama pants.
It wasn’t until she’d trembled in terror for a full minute that, hearing curses drifting over from the neighbors next door, she finally came to her senses—this wasn’t a ghost possessing her, this was a damn power outage!
Power company, are you the devil?! What kind of cursed timing was this for an outage?! Cheng Yao wept internally. Making her sleep alone in a pitch-black room right after watching a horror film would be the death of her!
She stared at Qian Heng’s door, locked in an internal battle. At a time like this, should she run to Qian Heng for help, or should she tough it out alone?
Between her boss and a ghost—which was actually more terrifying? Cheng Yao was torn; the two seemed about evenly matched…
Forget it! Gritting her teeth! Might as well go all in! At least Qian Heng was a fairly good-looking ghost!
Because of the outage, Qian Heng’s room was pitch black, and Cheng Yao couldn’t tell whether he’d already fallen asleep. But it was only nine o’clock, so on the off chance it might work, she crept up to his door and knocked softly, calling out in a hushed voice, “Boss? Boss?”
Silence answered her.
“Qian-par?”
Still no response.
“Qian Heng?”
Still nothing.
“Asleep already, this early? Are you an old man?” she muttered, calling out a few more times, “Qian Heng, Qian Heng, Qian Heng…” She called out several times, bored out of her mind, and suddenly, in a fit of playfulness, put her hands on her hips and laughed, mimicking the Silver Horn King from Journey to the West: “Qian Heng, if your daddy calls your name, do you dare answer?”
Oddly enough, this cry drained away a good deal of her fear. Emboldened, Cheng Yao carried on with her little performance from the novel.
But just as she reached the line, “You wretched beast, kneel and confess at once!” the door that had been tightly shut and silent suddenly opened.
Qian Heng stood there in his pajamas, his hair slightly mussed, his expression cold, appearing in the doorway.
Though the room was dark, in the moonlight from the window his fine, handsome face was still clearly visible, the cold-toned light seeming to coat him in an even colder frost. He stood with his arms crossed, his tall frame leaning slightly against the doorframe, brows faintly furrowed, his thin, pale lips pressed into an uninviting curve, his eyes—like polished obsidian—fixed unblinkingly on Cheng Yao.
If one ignored the killing intent in that gaze, paired with Qian Heng’s exquisite face, the scene would have been rather romantic, moonlit and flowery…
Unfortunately, the moment Qian Heng opened his mouth, he burst that rosy little bubble.
“Daddy?” He stared at Cheng Yao for a moment, then finally spoke, coldly. “Wretched beast?”
“…”
Though he had the face of a leading man from an idol drama, the scene currently playing out was shaping up to be scarier than the horror movie itself…
But would Cheng Yao give up so easily?!
No!! Successful people never gave up easily!
Cheng Yao instantly switched to a blank expression, narrowing her eyes slightly to look dazed, gave two exaggerated yawns, then turned without a word and shuffled slowly toward her own door, moving like an unthinking zombie.
Yes—the plan Cheng Yao had improvised in her moment of crisis was to fake sleepwalking!
Sleepwalking, after all, was unconscious. Everyone understood that. Whatever you said or did, you couldn’t be held responsible for it.
By now Cheng Yao had already walked a good distance with her back to Qian Heng, mentally congratulating herself on this clever scheme, watching her own door draw closer and closer.
Five meters, four meters, three meters—closer, even closer…
“Cheng Yao, you did a great job on the Dong Shan case. I just gave you a bonus and transferred it to your bank account. Did you get the text notification?”
Cheng Yao jolted, instinctively pulling out her phone to check. “Huh? No, nothing! Which account did you transfer it to? My salary card is with Bank of China—did you do an interbank transfer? And was it over fifty thousand? Because I heard from a friend at the bank that transfers under fifty thousand go through the small-amount payment system and can post in real time even at night. If it hasn’t posted yet, that means it’s over fifty thousand and will be delayed to the next business day. Haha, I can’t believe I’m getting such a huge bonus again, thank you boss, thank you so much…”
Cheng Yao, eyes lighting up at the mention of money, rambled on to herself for a good while before it suddenly hit her…
Oh no! Wasn’t she supposed to be sleepwalking right now?! How could a sleepwalker snap awake and hold a perfectly coherent conversation like that?! She’d fallen for it! She’d blown her cover!
Cheng Yao looked back at Qian Heng, and sure enough, there he was, staring at her with a cold, mocking smirk.
“Awake now?”
Awake wasn’t the word—she was crystal clear and stone cold sober.
But fortunately Cheng Yao had a thick enough skin. She put on a brazen face and, acting as though nothing at all had just happened, said warmly, “Boss, why are you out here too? Not asleep yet?”
Qian Heng said flatly, “Wasn’t it you who called my name and demanded I answer?”
“…”
Qian Heng glanced at her once more, and this time, without pressing the matter further, turned to head back to his room.
Cheng Yao quickly grabbed the hem of his sleeve. “Boss! Did you notice we seem to have a power outage?! Oh no, what should we do! At this hour you’re surely still busy with important work, right? Will this affect your ability to work overtime tonight?! Does your laptop still have enough battery? Do you need to borrow mine?”
Whatever the case, it was still pitch dark all around, and although her boss and a ghost were about equally terrifying, at least he was a warm-blooded presence… Cheng Yao’s mind churned through a thousand thoughts, but her hands had already made the decision for her, clinging tightly to Qian Heng.
In any case, at a moment like this, as long as she wasn’t left alone, it didn’t matter—she’d even take a scolding from Qian Heng if it meant company!
But perhaps her movement was too forceful, and Qian Heng’s pajamas were loose to begin with, the collar cut rather wide. With her tug, there was a ripping sound, and half his top came clean off, exposing a good portion of his shoulder, along with one side of his chest and waistline, all beautifully defined with muscle…
They say it’s improper to look, but, well, Cheng Yao thought, it really was quite a sight.
She assessed it quite objectively—if he really did become a male escort, with a physique like that, he probably couldn’t be had for less than ten thousand a night…
Cheng Yao remained calm; Qian Heng’s reaction, however, was far more dramatic. He acted like a young girl who’d just been groped by a pervert, hastily pulling his clothes back up, even clutching the once loosely hanging collar in a tight grip so that not a sliver of skin at his neck showed.
“Cheng Yao. I misjudged you.”
Cheng Yao: ???
Qian Heng glared at her furiously. “You really are no different from the rest of them. You’ve finally let your true colors show.”
Wait, what…
“Though we’re a lonely man and woman alone together in this house, faced with someone like me, I understand your occasional lapses of composure and impulsiveness. But please, restrain yourself.”
Boss, did you accidentally pick up the wrong script? The one meant for the female lead??
Cheng Yao explained weakly, “I didn’t… I really didn’t mean to…”
Qian Heng was quite matter-of-fact about it. “You were staring at my waist just now and never looked away. Your eyes were downright lecherous, like you were calculating something.”
Unjust accusation!! I was only calculating what tier of escort your physique would qualify for!!
Cheng Yao wanted to keep explaining, but Qian Heng just waved a hand. “Never mind. Don’t say anything more.” He looked at her with a sympathetic expression. “I understand.”
Understand what exactly?!
“Alright, I’m going back to my room. It’s probably best if we don’t see each other right now—I imagine my face and body are too much of a stimulus for you.” Qian Heng wore an expression of great magnanimity. “When you can’t control yourself, recite the Great Compassion Mantra and take a cold shower.”
On any normal day, Cheng Yao would have gladly walked off without another word, showing Qian Heng exactly what indifference looked like. But today was different. Today, having just watched a horror movie, with the power still out, the mere thought of being left alone made her shudder.
No matter what, she had to keep Qian Heng here! Hold him back! Keep him with her until the power came back on!
So Cheng Yao grabbed hold of him once more. “Boss, I really do have something I want to talk to you about!”
Qian Heng, still guarding his collar warily, asked, “What is it?”
Cheng Yao pushed through, adopting a righteous tone. “I want to discuss the family trust dispute we’re taking on tomorrow!”
“Not discussing it.” Qian Heng was brief. “It’s too cold in the living room. I’m going back to my room.”
“Then I’ll go discuss it with you in your room!”
Qian Heng put out a hand, blocking Cheng Yao’s attempt to step toward his door. “Let’s discuss it out here after all.”
Cheng Yao was baffled—the living room was quite cold right now. She rubbed her hands together. “Let’s just go to your room. Don’t you have the floor heating on? If not, we could go to mine—mine’s on, it’s nice and warm.”
“No.”
Cheng Yao held it in, but ultimately couldn’t. “Do you honestly think a woman standing a full head shorter than you could do anything to you in your room in the middle of the night? What’s with that guarded expression?”
Cheng Yao thought this remark would finally leave Qian Heng speechless, but instead he gave a cold snort and, without missing a beat, replied, “Have you read Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils?”
“Huh???”
“In it, Madam Ma and Qiao Feng share a room together. She tries to seduce him and fails, and out of love turned to hatred, she falsely accuses him.”
Cheng Yao was baffled. “So???”
“So what if you turn around and falsely accuse me of having designs on you, just because we shared a room? How could I ever clear my name?”
“…”
“Fine, fine, let’s just talk in the living room then!”
Forget it, forget it. Endure a moment and the storm passes; take a step back and the sea widens.
“Five minutes.”
“Family trusts are still a fairly novel concept even domestically. Since the Trust Law came into effect in 2001, actual practical use has really only been by a small minority. It’s only in the past couple of years that many wealthy entrepreneurs have started thinking about how to pass down wealth so their descendants can hold onto the family fortune. I’ve been studying the Trust Law, and there are some aspects of trust operations I’m not entirely clear on—like the independence of trust property, and the transfer and registration issues, and the tax implications involved… Also, on a practical level, which currently has more advantages—a domestic family trust or an offshore trust?”
Though studying family trusts with Qian Heng in the middle of the night was something Cheng Yao had improvised out of fear, as a family law attorney she genuinely had researched the Trust Law in her spare time before, so these questions weren’t fabricated—she really had done her homework on all of it.
It was clear Qian Heng was a little surprised that Cheng Yao could ask such questions. “You really have done some research. Generally, family trusts can indeed use cash, equity, real estate, and so on as trust property, but because of the transfer process from settlor to trustee, actual practice depends on the non-transactional transfer system, and currently that system is limited to inheritance and gifting. Trusts run into difficulties when handling non-transactional transfers, which is why domestic trust institutions currently tend to favor cash and stocks.”
…
Five minutes came and went, and Qian Heng didn’t chase Cheng Yao off.
Ten minutes came and went too, and Qian Heng was still deeply engaged in explaining.
Fifteen minutes were nearly up, and Qian Heng seemed to be getting even more into it.
He and Cheng Yao went back and forth, question and answer, and Cheng Yao herself forgot that her original goal had simply been to keep him occupied. She nodded along repeatedly, absorbing everything carefully, occasionally pausing to think, occasionally interrupting with a question.
By the time Qian Heng finished answering her last question, nearly half an hour had passed…
“As for the question of domestic trusts versus offshore trusts, I’ve actually looked into that recently too—it’s fairly complicated, too much to explain properly in a short time. Come to my room, and I’ll show you against the materials I put together before—it’ll be easier for you to understand.”
Cheng Yao: ???
Seeing her stunned expression, Qian Heng turned and shot her a completely unguarded eye-roll. “Why are you just standing there? Come into the room. Do you want me to freeze to death out here?”
But boss, didn’t you just say you’d rather die than let me into your room, for fear you couldn’t control yourself around me, doing this and that, hehehe?