Fortunately, Cheng Yao didn’t have much time to dwell in her flustered, lovestruck state.
She got a call from Li Mengting.
“Yao Yao, I’ve been sued.” Li Mengting sounded utterly at a loss. “Someone’s now demanding a million yuan in debt repayment from me. What… what do I do?”
Cheng Yao didn’t waste words—legal disputes were rarely something you could sort out over the phone. She hung up and rushed straight to Li Mengting’s hotel.
The matter, while it sounded complicated, wasn’t actually so complicated. Back when Zhang Hao and Li Mengting were pooling funds to buy their apartment, Zhang Hao had borrowed a million yuan from a friend who ran a factory, agreeing to repay it within six months. Now that the six months were up, the friend had repeatedly pressed for repayment, but Zhang Hao had simply ignored him.
“So now that he can’t find Zhang Hao, he’s suing you for it instead?” Cheng Yao frowned. “But wasn’t your marriage certificate fake anyway? That means there’s no marital joint debt to speak of.”
Li Mengting lowered her head, deeply dejected. “No, that’s not it.” She said, ashamed, “The IOU where Zhang Hao borrowed the million yuan from him—I’m the one who signed it. He’s an old friend of Zhang Hao’s hometown, not usually based in City A. That day he happened to be in town, and the arrangement was that we’d write him an IOU and he’d wire the money to us. Zhang Hao happened to be away on a business trip, so I was the only one there, and I ended up taking him to dinner and writing the IOU, but only signed my own name on it.”
Li Mengting looked as if she might burst into tears. “I didn’t think much of it at the time—I figured Zhang Hao and I were basically family, so signing an IOU for him seemed fine. But now Zhang Hao’s using the fact that the IOU isn’t in his name to have this friend come after me for the money instead, completely shirking responsibility, and since the friend can’t get his money any other way, he’s simply gone ahead and sued me in court.”
Cheng Yao made no comment yet, only holding out her hand toward Li Mengting. “The court must have sent you the plaintiff’s filing materials. Let me see them.”
Li Mengting handed over a small stack of documents.
She was clearly worn down by the string of misfortunes she’d suffered, her hard-won composure completely unraveling, leaving only a bitter smile. “Is this karma for slacking off through four years of law school instead of actually studying? Not only was I sued for infringement, and can’t get a share of the joint property because we were only cohabiting, and might even lose the apartment entirely due to my smaller share of the down payment—now I even have to shoulder this debt on his behalf…”
Li Mengting sounded anxious. “But Yao Yao, the court wouldn’t rule this debt as mine, would it? This million yuan was wired directly into Zhang Hao’s account. I never even touched the money—I only signed my name on the IOU.”
Cheng Yao skimmed through the filing materials, still calm. “Of the two million in the down payment, one million was borrowed from this friend, right?”
Li Mengting nodded. “That’s right.”
“And was the account the money went into Zhang Hao’s own account, given directly by Zhang Hao to his friend?”
Li Mengting, confused, said, “Yes.”
“Think carefully—did you, by any chance, also confirm Zhang Hao’s account number, or have any exchange with the friend regarding this money?” Cheng Yao pressed urgently. “Think hard, anything at all, any communication with the person who lent the money.”
Li Mengting immediately pulled up her phone and showed Cheng Yao their WeChat chat history. “At the time Zhang Hao was away on business, so to have someone receive this friend for him, he set up a group chat with the three of us. After the friend got the IOU I’d written, he asked for Zhang Hao’s account number in the group, and Zhang Hao just posted his bank card number directly. But back when Zhang Hao originally asked to borrow the money, that was all done over the phone, so I don’t have any evidence of that part.”
Cheng Yao quickly grabbed the phone and looked.
Zhang Hao and the friend who’d lent the money hadn’t exchanged much—one asked for the account number, the other gave it. Li Mengting, being naturally lively, had occasionally chimed in with a few comments in the group.
Cheng Yao scanned through the chat history intently, brow furrowed, until she finally found what she was looking for.
Right after Zhang Hao had given his bank account number, Li Mengting had chimed in with, “Yep, that’s the account number above, thanks so much!”
At that, Cheng Yao’s furrowed brow finally relaxed.
Li Mengting was still frowning, analyzing the situation. “I’ve looked over the filing materials too. He’s only provided that IOU, and the wire transfer record—but the money wasn’t transferred to my account. Since Zhang Hao and I never actually got our marriage certificate, there’s no marital relationship between us, so this debt claim shouldn’t count as joint debt either. He can’t win this, right?”
Cheng Yao tossed the phone back to her. “He can’t win. The evidence isn’t complete enough.” She gave Li Mengting a sly smile. “So we’re going to help him complete the evidence—and let him win.”
“Huh?”
“He currently has an IOU signed by you, and a transaction record showing a million yuan going into Zhang Hao’s account.” Cheng Yao tapped her fingers on the table without thinking. “All he needs is a screenshot of that chat history to complete the chain of evidence. In that group chat between the three of you, when Zhang Hao gave out his account number, you weren’t just aware of it—you actually confirmed, ‘that’s the account number above.’ That one line proves you acknowledged and authorized the million yuan being wired to a third party’s account. Combined with the IOU you signed, this can be interpreted entirely as: you borrowed the money under your own name, and then had it wired into an account you’d authorized—meaning this loan is still, legally, yours.”
Li Mengting looked utterly bewildered. “But why would we want to admit to this loan? If we actually admit to it, I’m guaranteed to lose this lawsuit, and I’d be ordered to repay him the million yuan plus interest. Sure, I could then sue Zhang Hao afterward to make him pay me back, but that lawsuit would be even harder to win, and worst case, even if I won, if Zhang Hao just refused to pay, enforcement might not even be possible. What if he really refuses, and I end up saddled with this million-yuan debt for nothing, having never even actually received the money…”
“No. There’s no need for that.” Cheng Yao said, breaking into a smile. “Zhang Hao really has brought this on himself—overplaying his hand trying to cleverly dump the responsibility for repaying the million onto you while getting himself off scot-free, only to end up shooting himself in the foot instead.”
Cheng Yao met Li Mengting’s puzzled gaze with confidence and conviction. “I’ve found a way to get your apartment for you. This case has a real turning point now!”
At first glance, the million-yuan loan dispute and the property division lawsuit between Li Mengting and Zhang Hao seemed completely unrelated. But everything was interconnected—what had originally seemed like an impossibly complex puzzle for Li Mengting’s property division had, thanks to Zhang Hao’s own maneuvering, suddenly turned into an easy win.
“As long as you lose the million-yuan loan dispute, the court will confirm that the million yuan was, legally, your loan. And since that million was part of Zhang Hao’s contribution to the down payment, that effectively means that portion of the down payment wasn’t actually Zhang Hao’s—the million yuan was really borrowed under your own name, meaning it was effectively your contribution, just routed through Zhang Hao’s account. With all the evidence combined with the eventual losing judgment from that loan case, it can all be used to prove that this million was your loan, your contribution—and added to the one hundred fifty thousand you already contributed to the down payment before, your total contribution to the apartment reaches two hundred fifty thousand—while Zhang Hao’s actual contribution, once you subtract that million, is only one hundred fifty thousand.”
At this point, Li Mengting’s eyes lit up too, finally grasping what Cheng Yao meant. “So you mean—once the court rules against me in the loan dispute, that effectively uses legal force to confirm the evidence I need for the property division case! It proves my contribution was two hundred fifty thousand, far more than Zhang Hao’s!”
Cheng Yao smiled and nodded. “Exactly.”
Once Li Mengting’s contribution ratio reached two hundred fifty thousand, taking the larger share of the apartment’s total value, then, following the principle that the party with the higher contribution ratio gets priority, Li Mengting would hold a clear advantage when the court divided the property. Combined with the fact that she was pregnant, and considering practical living needs, she would clearly have the upper hand there too. No matter how the judge weighed it, the apartment would end up going to Li Mengting, while Zhang Hao would only receive the corresponding cash value for his share.
Li Mengting had clearly understood this too, and her whole demeanor lit up with excitement. “What a turn of events! I believe in the law again!”
This time, there was real, heartfelt conviction in Li Mengting’s voice. “Yao Yao, Lawyer Qian was right. The law protects those who are alert enough to use it to their own advantage. If you hadn’t immediately realized that this loan could actually be used to prove my contribution ratio, I probably would have been too clueless to know how to turn defeat into victory.”
Seeing the case take such a dramatic turn brought Cheng Yao real excitement on Li Mengting’s behalf, though tinged with some lingering unease. “If Zhang Hao hadn’t been so selfish and greedy as to make such a foolish move, going by the original evidence, this apartment might not have gone to you at all.”
Being able to turn things around like this was, purely and simply, a matter of luck.
There was much more Cheng Yao could have said, but she didn’t, hoping Li Mengting would come to understand it herself.
Leaving your fate and your rights to luck was something entirely unpredictable, and counting on such lucky escapes every time simply wasn’t realistic.
Having stumbled so badly in love, Li Mengting surely had plenty to reflect on there—but whether she’d also reflect on the ways she’d stumbled legally, in protecting herself, remained to be seen.
Cheng Yao knew that, whether as a friend or as her lawyer, she had no standing to criticize or lecture Li Mengting at a time like this—some things, a person simply had to come to understand on their own. All she could do was do her job well, protect Li Mengting’s rights, and stand by her side through this difficult stretch.
“I’ll contact the person currently suing you over the loan dispute and coordinate with him, telling him to have the chat screenshots notarized and submitted as new evidence.” Cheng Yao switched back into work mode. “At the same time, I’ll file the property division suit against Zhang Hao, aiming to get the losing judgment from the loan case in hand right around when the property division case goes to trial. That way, working both angles at once, we’ll try to win you the apartment in the shortest time possible.”
Li Mengting broke into a smile again, nodding firmly.
Just as Cheng Yao was about to take her leave, Li Mengting called out to stop her.
“Yao Yao.”
She looked somewhat bashful. “Do you still have those bar exam study materials from before?”
“Hm?”
“I… I want to study for the bar exam.” Li Mengting bit her lip. “I’m pregnant now, so I can’t go job hunting anyway, and I have plenty of free time every day. You were right—being pregnant doesn’t mean I can’t do anything. I looked it up online the other day too, and plenty of successful women manage to accomplish a lot even while pregnant, never letting up on their own standards just because of it. I’m nowhere near as good as them. They’re all working hard, so I should work even harder.”
Cheng Yao blinked, and then felt a genuine surge of happiness. She nodded. “I have them. I’ll bring them over for you tomorrow.”
Li Mengting looked relieved, and smiled. “I’ve figured it out now. Even though I’ve lost some things, suffered some setbacks, I’m still young, and I have to own my own decisions.” She touched her rounded belly. “Since I’ve decided to bring these two little lives into this world, I need to take responsibility for them. I’m going to raise these two children alone—how could I not work hard?”
Cheng Yao squeezed Li Mengting’s hand firmly. “Don’t worry, everything will get better. Besides, the two little ones will have me as their godmother!”
Li Mengting squeezed her hand back just as firmly. “There are still a few months until next year’s bar exam. I want to give it a shot.” She looked at Cheng Yao, her tone earnest. “I want to be like you—a female lawyer. Someone who can protect herself, and also protect the people she loves, and still have an income to support herself and her children.”
By the end, there was a hint of tears in Li Mengting’s eyes, though she was no longer the same person she’d once been—the girl who had once stood at the edge of Su Linghu, contemplating ending her own life. Cheng Yao could see resolve and purpose in her eyes now.
“Yao Yao, thank you.” Li Mengting said solemnly, then paused. “And thank Lawyer Qian too. He isn’t the industry’s poison—he’s a truly, truly good person. I’m so grateful for that scolding he gave me back then, waking me up. Bitter medicine, but only that kind can cure the illness.”
“You two didn’t just help me secure my legal rights—you changed my life.”
By the time Cheng Yao made it back to the office building where Junheng was located, her face and hands were still burning, Li Mengting’s final, solemn words still echoing in her mind.
Her heart was filled with genuine emotion and a powerful sense of professional pride.
Never in her life had she felt such a profound sense of accomplishment. Not even receiving a huge bonus had ever compared.
Qian Heng had been right—every profession had its own unique calling.
So did law.
As part of the machinery keeping the legal order running, beyond helping the healthy functioning of the legal system, Cheng Yao thought, every legal professional’s mission wasn’t merely to resolve individual disputes, but to spread faith in the law throughout society.
She hadn’t previously understood what Qian Heng meant by “having faith in the law”—but only now, at last, did she come to grasp it, if only dimly.
Cheng Yao’s heart was a tangle of excitement, exhilaration, and pride, and before she quite realized it, she’d already dialed Qian Heng’s number.
She wanted to tell him. Wanted to be the first to tell him.
Not because he was her boss, but because he was her man.
But just as she heard the phone ring its third “beep,” a hand suddenly reached from behind her and took the phone away.
Cheng Yao turned around to find Qian Heng standing right behind her, a stack of case files in one hand, looking as though he’d just come back from court and was about to head upstairs.
He hung up her call and handed the phone back to her, raising an eyebrow. “Why are you calling me? Just come up to Junheng and find me in my office, wouldn’t that be simpler?”
Cheng Yao looked a bit embarrassed, and admitted honestly, “Because what I wanted to say wasn’t as an employee… so to keep things separate, work and private life, I thought it would be more appropriate to call you outside the firm. Saying this kind of thing in your office doesn’t feel quite right.”
Qian Heng frowned, displeased. “Are you an idiot? My office is somewhere you can walk into anytime you want. What kind of rigid nonsense is this?”
Cheng Yao glanced at him. “That rule was one you set.”
“…” Qian Heng cleared his throat. “Rules like that can be flexible sometimes.”
Standing there now with Qian Heng, even in this perfectly ordinary spot outside the building with people coming and going, Cheng Yao couldn’t help but feel her face flush and her nerves flare up, as if the entire world were watching her and Qian Heng, terrified that passersby might somehow see through the nature of their relationship.
She glanced at him. “Why don’t we go talk at the Starbucks nearby? I still feel weird talking about this in the office…”
The moment she said it, she felt a pang of regret—Qian Heng didn’t drink Starbucks. Not only did he not drink it, he was famously disdainful of both its taste and the whole atmosphere of its cafes.
To her surprise, Qian Heng gave a soft “mm,” and simply walked toward the Starbucks himself, even glancing back at her strangely.
“Why are you still standing there? Do you want to make me—worth 166.666 recurring yuan a minute—wait for you?”
“…”
The atmosphere at Starbucks was, as ever, lively no matter the hour, still crowded with people. Though Qian Heng walked in, he kept his brow furrowed the entire time, his face practically radiating reluctance. Cheng Yao quickly ordered herself a latte, and knowing that Qian Heng, accustomed to freshly ground coffee, would never lower his standards for Starbucks, thought it over and ordered him an Earl Grey tea instead.
To avoid any colleagues spotting them and drawing conclusions, she specifically chose a table tucked away in a corner.
Regarding Li Mengting’s case, beyond the loan dispute that had turned the whole thing around, Cheng Yao had a lot more she wanted to say—but most importantly, she wanted to properly thank him.
“Thank you.”
Qian Heng turned his face away. “Thank me for what? You’re the one who handled this case. A case with a claim of only a few hundred thousand isn’t worth my time. Don’t try to connect a small case like this with me—it would lower my standing if word got out.”
He seemed unaccustomed to being thanked, and now, faced with Cheng Yao’s gaze, he seemed determined to deny it with his whole body.
Truly, awkward to no end.
But Cheng Yao knew better. He talked about only caring about money, and yet in the middle of the night, he’d driven her across half the city to stop Li Mengting from harming herself, and stayed to make sure she was safely settled; he could have turned a blind eye, and yet, regardless of whether it offended anyone, he’d still sharply pointed out Li Mengting’s problems; on the surface he seemed uninvolved in this case, but secretly, he’d been keeping tabs on it the whole time, and the moment Cheng Yao ran into trouble, he’d almost instantly stepped in.
He was like the perfect kind of mentor, not overly involved, giving Cheng Yao the greatest possible freedom and independence—yet whenever she was about to stumble, she’d find there had always been a pair of hands right behind her, ready to catch her.
“Whether you admit it or not, you changed Li Mengting’s life.” Cheng Yao said, cupping her latte with both hands. “This is the first time I’ve ever felt this proud, this fulfilled, as a lawyer. Beyond solving a client’s problem with legal expertise, it turns out being a lawyer can actually change so much more.” She told Qian Heng about the change in Li Mengting. “You see, because of you, she not only pulled herself out of the pain of being deceived and cheated on by Zhang Hao, but she also decided to work hard and better herself, to become someone who knows how to use the law wisely, instead of remaining passive and idle in life.”
Qian Heng seemed rather surprised by this outcome, and pressed his lips together, looking at her. “We’re lawyers. We’re only responsible for the outcome of a case, not for anyone else’s life. Cheng Yao, you…”
“That’s not true.” She cut him off. “Handling a case well is naturally our core job, but I think a lawyer, while remaining professional, should also carry a certain kind of compassion. Even while resolving individual disputes, we can still spread faith in the law and change people’s lives! Don’t you think that if Li Mengting can stand back up, and one day pass the bar exam and become a legal professional herself, that would mean more than just helping her win an apartment?”
Cheng Yao’s eyes were bright and utterly focused on him. Pinned by that gaze, Qian Heng instinctively looked away—even now that the two of them were officially boyfriend and girlfriend, being looked at like that still left him unable to hold his composure.
He cleared his throat, forcing himself to sound calm. “I already told you. I only work for money.”
“No you don’t, you work for love too.”
Qian Heng turned his face away. “I don’t actually care whether Li Mengting manages to turn her life around or not.”
“But you care about me.” Cheng Yao wouldn’t let it go, still watching the side of his face with those alluring eyes. “You, worth 166.666 recurring yuan a minute, wasted so much time helping me with Li Mengting’s case—wasn’t that working for love? I’m not even worth that much money…”
“Who told you that you’re not worth anything?”
Before Cheng Yao could finish her sentence, Qian Heng cut her off. She looked up to find his gaze, which had drifted away a moment ago, now fixed back on her—and the instant their eyes met, his gaze folded shut like a shy plant’s leaves, darting away again immediately. “You’re Junheng’s lawyer, someone I personally trained and mentored.” His ears reddened faintly, though his tone remained perfectly serious. “And you’re also my—Qian Heng’s—girlfriend.” He glanced at her. “Who gave you permission to think you’re not worth anything?”
He went on, twisting his logic stubbornly, “You’re very valuable, so when I work for you, I’m still working for money. Don’t get it wrong—there’s no such thing as me, Qian Heng, working for love.”
Cheng Yao couldn’t help but laugh.
Such earnest, ridiculous logic—only Qian Heng could pull that off.
Only, it was so cute.
For some reason, a post she’d read a long time ago suddenly surfaced in her mind—
“What do you do when you think your boyfriend is so cute you just want to kiss him?”
Well, obviously, Cheng Yao thought, you just kiss him without hesitation!
The woman of action wasted not a single second. She gave Qian Heng a light kick under the table, then lowered her voice, whispering, “Come here a second.”
Puzzled, Qian Heng frowned and leaned his head closer. “Hm?”
At such close range, she could clearly make out his long, dense eyelashes, and only then did Cheng Yao start to feel nervous—the noisy hum of the Starbucks around them seemed to fade away entirely, leaving only the sound of her own heart pounding fiercely in her chest.
Her face couldn’t help but flush, though on the surface she still maintained a scrupulous composure as she looked at him. “Do you want to try a sip of Starbucks coffee?”
Qian Heng blinked, then refused without a moment’s hesitation. “No, I don’t want to.”
“But I’d like to invite you to try a sip.” Cheng Yao looked away, her palms sweating faintly from nerves. “Just one sip, that’s all.”
Qian Heng, still frowning, kept refusing. “No, not even one sip. This low-grade instant-coffee-like taste doesn’t suit my stand—”
His sentence was cut off, swallowed by Cheng Yao’s lips suddenly pressing against his.
Only then did Qian Heng realize why Cheng Yao had been so awkwardly trying to talk him into just one sip of Starbucks coffee…
Because she’d taken a sip of her latte herself, and then, with the taste of coffee still on her lips, kissed him.
For her own bold, presumptuous act, Cheng Yao, despite outwardly maintaining her composure, was inwardly a nervous wreck. It was her first time doing something like this, and though she’d acted decisively, she was still clumsy at it, and in her reckless leap, ended up accidentally bumping his teeth.
Flustered, she pulled back in a hurry, face red, stammering an apology. “Sorry, I didn’t mean t—”
But before she could finish that last word, it was swallowed up by Qian Heng’s lips and tongue.
He leaned in and finished the kiss Cheng Yao had left incomplete.
Their tongues brushed lightly, the taste of coffee still lingering between their lips, along with a sweetness that felt almost cloying.