Once Chen Linli’s condition had stabilized, Cheng Yao arranged a caretaker for her and rushed straight back to the firm.
Before leaving, she’d gotten the contact information for the original accident witnesses from Chen Linli. Even taking Chen Linli at her word, Cheng Yao still made a point of tracking down objective evidence to support it.
“They were all kind people. When the accident happened, several fellow countrymen paused their trip specifically to accompany us to the hospital. I was injured too at the time — concussion, back injury — dizzy and unable to get up. Those kind strangers helped cover the medical costs, and some who spoke good English helped translate.”
Chen Linli’s voice still carried gratitude. “But I already asked everyone I could through my first-instance lawyers. It was so chaotic at the time, nobody had the presence of mind to pay attention to anything else — no one remembers exactly when Kai and Ran died. I was lying in the ambulance myself, and maybe because of the concussion, or maybe because I just can’t bring myself to remember, I have almost no memory of that part at all…”
“It’s all right, don’t force yourself to think about it anymore.” Cheng Yao patted Chen Linli’s hand, feeling entirely calm inside. What she wanted to ask these witnesses about wasn’t the time of death for Zhang Kai and Zhang Ran — her focus was on something else entirely.
“Hello, Mr. Su, I’m Cheng Yao, Chen Linli’s representing attorney. Regarding the hot air balloon accident her husband and son were involved in in Turkey, I’d like to once again express my thanks on Chen Linli’s behalf, and I’d like to ask you a few questions about what happened at the time…”
…
Chen Linli had given her seven contacts in total. Cheng Yao went through them one by one, and it was only with the last one, Xu Jin, that she finally got the answer she was looking for.
“Video — I actually did film some,” said Xu Jin, a college student, sounding a bit embarrassed. “I do a bit of influencer work on Douyin, and to keep my traffic up, I have to film a lot of videos every day. During that trip to Turkey, I was filming pretty much the whole time, planning to go back and edit some of it into fun content.”
Cheng Yao’s eyes lit up completely. “So you filmed during the accident too?”
Xu Jin made a sound of confirmation, then explained, “I really don’t mean any disrespect to the people who died — it’s just a professional habit. I was already filming when it happened, and I didn’t stop, some instinct just made me keep going. But I promise, I never posted it online. I want views, sure, but I do have some limits.”
“Thank you. Chen Linli told me it was you who volunteered to translate after the accident happened. Let me thank you again on her behalf — I trust you wouldn’t have done something like that, but right now I need this video to confirm something. Do you still have it?”
“I do — I back up everything I’ve ever filmed.”
In the end, Xu Jin packaged up the entire video and sent it to Cheng Yao. The moment she received it, she opened it right away.
Just as Xu Jin had said, the video started from the moment the balloon took off. Cheng Yao watched patiently, and finally, the part she’d been waiting for arrived. The footage suddenly shook violently, followed by screams and tremors, and then a chaos of different languages shouting all at once. Cheng Yao carefully picked out the Mandarin from the confusion of voices.
“Someone’s been thrown out! Help them, quick!”
“Three people are hurt, hurry, does anyone know CPR?”
…
The scene at the time had been urgent and chaotic. Everyone there, regardless of nationality, had risen to the occasion in the face of disaster, doing everything they could to help.
And just as Chen Linli had said, of the three of them, Chen Linli — though injured with a concussion — had suffered the least and remained conscious after being thrown from the balloon. Xu Jin’s video faithfully captured this. In the chaos, she’d even caught footage of Chen Linli’s condition — her back injured and unable to move, covered in scrapes, blood on her clothes and face, deathly pale, and yet completely unconcerned with her own injuries…
“Please, help me — check on my husband and my son…” In the video, she gritted through the pain in her head, and even with her back unable to move, she still tried to crawl toward Zhang Kai and Zhang Ran, looking utterly wretched.
The overwhelming panic and terror on Chen Linli’s face — even watching it now, Cheng Yao still couldn’t bear it, especially when Chen Linli learned that Zhang Kai and Zhang Ran’s injuries were more severe, and her instantaneous reaction turned into unrestrained pleading.
“Save my husband and my son first, save them first…”
Like someone clinging to driftwood in the open sea, ignoring her own injuries entirely, she grabbed hold of the rescue workers’ hands…
Cheng Yao already knew she didn’t need to watch what came next. She closed the video. She sat in front of her computer for a long while, unable to settle her thoughts.
It was true, just as Qian Heng had said, that handling so many family disputes meant seeing plenty of ugliness — people willing to tear each other apart over money and self-interest. But there was never a shortage of genuine love in this world either. Even if the rest of the world thought she wasn’t good enough for him, even if they thought it was all an act, Chen Linli truly, deeply loved Zhang Kai. She hadn’t been faking it.
Having gotten what she needed, Cheng Yao didn’t rest for even a moment — she called Qian Heng almost immediately.
“Qian Heng, I want to talk to you. Can we meet?”
Qian Heng sounded a little surprised, though there was a faint hint of pleasure beneath his composed tone. “Sure.”
There was no time to waste — Cheng Yao wanted to meet right away, and to her surprise, Qian Heng also seemed eager. His voice sounded a bit unnatural as he cleared his throat. “Then let’s do it now. I’ll come to you — that café downstairs from your firm.”
Even though that café was actually closer to her own office, Cheng Yao took the time to organize her materials for Chen Linli’s case before heading down, and by the time she got there, Qian Heng had already arrived, looking like he’d rushed straight over.
Cheng Yao found a quiet spot by the window and ordered hot tea. The whole time, Qian Heng said nothing, just watched her closely and intently — the kind of gaze that made Cheng Yao a little uncomfortable. She couldn’t help glaring up at him, but she was too pretty for the glare to carry much force, and if anything, after she glared, his gaze only grew bolder.
He kept looking at her, as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist, as if she were the only thing in his eyes. The two of them had just seen each other recently, and yet Qian Heng’s expression made it seem as though they hadn’t seen each other in ten years.
Once the server who’d taken their order left, the two of them were left alone in that corner of the café.
Qian Heng pressed his lips together, then looked away. “What did you want to talk about? Go ahead.”
Cheng Yao didn’t hold back either. “It’s like this — today I came to talk properly with you about the Chen Linli–Huang Ran case…”
But before she could finish, Qian Heng looked up, his tone somewhere between shocked and gritted with frustration. “You wanted to see me because of the case?”
Cheng Yao was baffled. “What else would it be? Wasn’t the whole point of you agreeing to meet me to discuss the case?”
“…”
“Anyway, let’s not waste time. Here’s the thing — for Chen Linli and Huang Ran’s case, I’d like to try arranging a meeting between the two parties. I’m hoping we can negotiate and reach a pre-trial settlement before the second-instance hearing.”
Though Qian Heng’s expression had been fairly alarming before she’d started, once Cheng Yao got into the case, he quickly slipped back into professional mode.
“Not possible.” He took a sip of tea, glancing at Cheng Yao. “Huang Ran has no interest in seeing Chen Linli at all — she hates her too much for that. There’s no chance of a settlement.”
“That’s only because Huang Ran keeps clinging to her own prejudice — she thinks Chen Linli was only ever with her son for the family’s money, that Chen Linli exploited him, and she can’t bring herself to accept Chen Linli, which is why she’s so hostile toward her. But that’s not the truth. Chen Linli loved Zhang Kai deeply, more than she loves herself, and her real motive for wanting Kaili isn’t about fighting for inheritance. If Huang Ran could understand that, a settlement wouldn’t be impossible.”
Qian Heng’s tone stayed flat. “Cheng Yao, I taught you this a long time ago — keep your distance from clients, don’t trust their stories, don’t get caught up in the details, just understand what they want and resolve it professionally from a legal standpoint.” His expression carried a hint of disdain. “Besides, I’ve said it before — love can be pure, but marriage never is. Marriage always gets tangled up with all kinds of competing interests, marriage is a cage, and in the end, it’s always the same story of masks coming off and turning into a war over interests, people turning on each other over money. If Chen Linli really weren’t in it for the money, would she still be fighting like this after losing the first instance?”
Cheng Yao pressed her lips together. She’d brought her laptop, and she pulled out the organized materials, the video, and the witness statements one by one, laying them all in front of Qian Heng. “For a lawyer, only caring about a client’s wishes is safe, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But more often than not, I think what’s behind a client’s wishes — the real motive — matters a lot to the outcome too. A lawyer needs professionalism, but they also need heart.”
She didn’t back down, meeting his eyes steadily. “I’ve always kept your guidance in mind, but I have my own approach and my own way of thinking too. I don’t blindly trust my clients — I’m a lawyer, and everything I do, every conclusion I draw, is grounded in evidence.”
“I’d like you to take a look at this evidence too, now.”
As Qian Heng went through Cheng Yao’s materials and the video one by one, the initial disdain and cool arrogance gradually faded from his face.
“Save my husband and my son first, save them first…”
Chen Linli’s voice in the video was hoarse and desperate. Qian Heng pressed his lips together tightly, a mix of surprise, shock, and a faint, subtle confusion on his face.
“Chen Linli just attempted suicide and failed.” Cheng Yao paused. “I know in Huang Ran’s eyes, this must look like she’s putting on a show — no matter what Chen Linli does now to grieve for Zhang Kai and Zhang Ran, Huang Ran will look at it through tinted glasses. But this video comes directly from someone who witnessed the accident — no edits, no fabrication, and if you don’t believe it, it can absolutely be authenticated. Chen Linli was also injured at the time, with a concussion, in bad shape herself. In a moment of crisis, especially when facing real danger, a person’s first instinct usually reveals their truest feelings. Most people in Chen Linli’s position would absolutely ask to be saved first — there’s nothing to blame them for, it’s just human instinct.”
“But Chen Linli didn’t. Her first instinct was to save Zhang Kai and Zhang Ran — because of love, she overcame even the most selfish of human instincts, the instinct for self-preservation. In her most dangerous moment, the words that came out of her mouth were to save her husband and her child.” Cheng Yao looked at Qian Heng. “Looking at all this, do you still think Chen Linli married Zhang Kai for the money, and not out of love?”
For the first time, Cheng Yao stood tall in front of Qian Heng and used hard evidence to make her case emphatically. She felt both proud and full of conviction, and the sense of purpose she felt as a lawyer grew even stronger inside her.
“I’ve always believed the law itself is cold and neutral, but a lawyer should bring a little more humanity beyond that legal rationality. That doesn’t compromise professionalism at all — it can even make a lawyer better.” Cheng Yao looked Qian Heng straight in the eye. “I won’t deny that you’re more experienced than I am, but sometimes even your understanding of this profession isn’t entirely right either. If we handle this dispute through litigation, my odds of winning are slim — trying to overturn a cross-border death certificate by attacking the order of death is just too difficult. But shouldn’t we think about whether there’s a better way to resolve this dispute?”
The young woman in front of him looked radiant and self-assured, as if she carried a brilliant light with her — professional, forceful, but never overbearing. Qian Heng had never once looked away from an opposing counsel’s gaze in a case, had never once bowed his head to an opponent, had certainly never had to admit he was wrong.
In all these years, he had never been wrong.
And yet this time, he found himself instinctively looking away.
Cheng Yao was right.
“We’re supposed to be resolvers of conflict, but the way we resolve them doesn’t have to be confined to adversarial litigation. Family disputes can be settled through reconciliation too, you know.” Cheng Yao pressed her lips together, earnest and focused. “Chen Linli loved Zhang Kai and Zhang Ran deeply — I believe Huang Ran does too. This accident was a devastating loss for both Chen Linli and Huang Ran. They’re both cherishing the love they have for the people they lost — why can’t they reconcile?”
Striking while the iron was hot, Cheng Yao went on to explain that Chen Linli didn’t want Kaili divided up, and that she was the one actually holding the reins behind the scenes at the company.
“There’s no fundamental conflict between this mother-in-law and daughter-in-law — it’s Huang Ran’s misunderstanding and prejudice that have caused this breakdown in communication. If they tear each other apart over the inheritance, no matter who wins the lawsuit in the end, is that really winning? It would just be a loss disguised as a win for both sides. Get the money, lose the family — a rift that never heals. Would Zhang Kai and Zhang Ran, if they were alive, want to see this outcome? Neither Chen Linli nor Huang Ran are bad people, and there’s no deep-seated hatred between them — they both love the same people, they’re both carrying the same grief. If, through some cruel twist of fate, they end up fighting each other to the bitter end and both come out battered, isn’t that a tragedy no matter who wins?”
A man’s earnestness is compelling — and so is a woman’s. Watching Cheng Yao in that moment, alongside his overwhelming longing and love for her, Qian Heng felt for the first time a genuine urge to match wits with a worthy opponent, to really go head to head with her.
Cheng Yao had grown faster than he’d expected. Professionally and in experience she was still somewhat green, but that relentless, never-give-up streak of hers was the kind of thing that made anyone respect her.
In the past, even knowing how hard Cheng Yao worked, Qian Heng had still mostly looked at her the way a man looks at a woman — his appreciation for her had mostly stayed on that romantic level, and her professional effort had felt more like an added bonus. But this was the first time he’d looked at Cheng Yao the way he’d look at a worthy opponent.
He’d always heard that women who were too outstanding, who loved competing head-on with men, weren’t attractive. Now Qian Heng realized everyone had been wrong. This version of Cheng Yao was more captivating than she’d ever been.
For the first time, Qian Heng broke his own rule. “I’ll talk to Huang Ran.”
Cheng Yao’s eyes lit up. As long as Qian Heng was willing to talk to her, then there was a good chance this case could have a happy ending after all.
“Huang Ran’s prejudice against Chen Linli didn’t build up overnight. Some things are best worked out face to face between the two of them — I can’t guarantee she’ll agree to see Chen Linli, but I’ll do what I can to make the meeting happen.”
Qian Heng never made hundred-percent guarantees, but with those words from him, Cheng Yao knew she could rest easy now.
Once they’d finished discussing all this, Cheng Yao suddenly felt drained, and her stomach growled, quite inconveniently.
Qian Heng didn’t look at her, his tone trying to sound natural but not quite managing it. “What do you want to eat?”
“No need. I already made plans with my senior classmate for dinner — we’ve still got a few cases to discuss. He’s already waiting outside the café.”
Before Qian Heng could say anything, Cheng Yao waved at him in a businesslike way and walked out of the café, looking radiant and brisk, without a trace of lingering. Outside, Gu Beiqing was smiling gently at her.
Qian Heng hadn’t spotted him. Gu Beiqing waved at Cheng Yao, and the two of them walked off together, chatting and laughing.
A handsome man and a beautiful woman — quite the striking pair — except this particular sight was, from Qian Heng’s vantage point, deeply irritating no matter how he looked at it.
Qian Heng felt like he’d swallowed ten thousand lemons, sour from the inside out.
But beneath the jealousy and bitterness, for the first time, Qian Heng found himself questioning his own principles.
Chen Linli and Zhang Kai had been married for eleven years. Eleven years — in Qian Heng’s mind, any feeling should have long since been ground away by the daily grind of marriage, and marriage always ended up entangled with self-interest, with money, with none of the purity of romantic love, only exposing people’s selfishness and coldness. And that was without even accounting for the fact that Chen Linli and Zhang Kai’s marriage had spanned an enormous gap in family background and social status, a difficult mother-in-law relationship, prying eyes from all around, and a son going through a rebellious adolescent phase — practically hard mode in every sense.
Having handled so many family disputes, Qian Heng’s experience told him this should have been a textbook case of a marriage worn down to nothing by reality. Whatever love there had been at the start, by now, it should certainly have been gone.
And yet that cry Chen Linli had let out in that moment of crisis — willing to sacrifice herself just to save her husband first — kept echoing in Qian Heng’s mind.
Stripped of all the tangled, complicated details, could love that deep really still exist within a marriage? Could marriage, rather than being love’s graveyard, actually deepen it into something even more profound?
Was his commitment to staying unmarried really the right call?
That question had been circling in Qian Heng’s mind ever since Cheng Yao brought up breaking up with him. He’d found himself instinctively observing every married couple he came across in daily life, even earnestly starting to consider the benefits of marriage. Without even realizing it, he’d already begun trying to talk himself into it, trying to overturn the very principle he’d held onto for so long. Sticking to his no-marriage stance meant losing Cheng Yao — that realization had nearly driven him to the edge. For the first time in his life, he felt conflicted, torn, indecisive, and even a little lost about his own principles.
Maybe marriage wasn’t as awful as he’d imagined — maybe, like Chen Linli and Zhang Kai, there really was love in it, and warmth too.
Having handled so many cases exposing the ugliest side of human nature in marriage, had he simply developed a stubborn bias against marriage itself?
And more importantly, Qian Heng could no longer deceive himself.
He didn’t want to lose Cheng Yao. Being with her was the life he truly wanted. His life was brilliant and bright with her in it; he couldn’t lose her, and he was afraid of losing her.
Qian Heng vaguely recalled a line from some film or TV show.
You’re the first person I want to see every morning, and the only one I want to kiss every night before I fall asleep.
Back then, Qian Heng had thought it was nothing but overwrought, sappy nonsense.
But only now did he truly understand what it meant.
Once you have someone you truly, deeply love, suddenly you understand every romantic line in every movie, every love song you’ve ever heard.
Inside Qian Heng, principle and feeling collided violently. He only felt that, right now, his resolve about staying unmarried and childless was growing shakier by the moment.
He walked out of the café, and then he saw Gu Beiqing gently unwinding his own scarf to wrap it around Cheng Yao. Gu Beiqing’s movements were tender, and the way he looked at Cheng Yao — any man could tell exactly what that look meant.
In that instant, it felt to Qian Heng as if an entire supernova had gone off in his head.
He wasn’t dead yet! And here was Gu Beiqing, trying to steal her right in front of him?!