Even knowing this was all fake, Qi Xi’s heart still couldn’t help but pound with sudden nervousness.

A man like Gu Yan, using his looks to throw his weight around like this.

The trouble was, facing Gu Yan’s cold gaze, Qi Xi genuinely felt a flicker of guilty panic, as if she’d been caught red-handed.

Gu Yan’s expression had turned serious, and his presence carried real weight.

Qi Xi was caught completely off guard by his appearance, and naturally, tonight’s “date” was equally surprised. He blinked, then looked at Qi Xi with polite composure and a smile. “And this is…?”

Gu Yan’s tone was rather cold. “Oh. Qi Xi’s boyfriend.”

The date was clearly a man of good breeding. He paused, then looked at Gu Yan. “She has a boyfriend? Hello, I’m—”

But Gu Yan’s voice was icily aloof. “I have no interest in who you are.” He turned to Qi Xi. “Let’s go.”

**

Not until Qi Xi was seated again on the back of Gu Yan’s bicycle did the fog in her head begin to clear.

“That guy was actually decent to talk to—I wanted to keep chatting with him. Didn’t I just message you saying you didn’t need to call? Why did you show up in person?”

Gu Yan pedaled on, his voice perfectly calm. “Oh, I hadn’t seen the message. I thought you weren’t answering because he’d snatched your phone and hung up on me, so I reluctantly came to find you.”

Recalling the scene, Qi Xi still felt a scalp-tingling embarrassment. “And your attitude just now was way too harsh! I feel like I’ve got no chance of being friends with him now… You really overdid the boyfriend persona, Gu Yan. Don’t you think that jealous-boyfriend act was a bit much? A man being that jealous doesn’t seem like a good thing—you took it way too far just now!”

As it turned out, mentioning this was a mistake—perhaps because his dedicated performance hadn’t earned Qi Xi’s approval, Gu Yan visibly grew displeased. The man actually began arguing his case. “I don’t think there was anything wrong with the persona. Why can’t a man be jealous? What you’re saying sounds a bit sexist, honestly—is jealousy supposed to be exclusively a woman’s trait? Women can be assertive, so of course men can be jealous too. Gender shouldn’t limit that.”

Sitting on the back of Gu Yan’s bicycle, Qi Xi couldn’t see his face, but just from his voice alone, she could imagine exactly how sour his expression must be. The man continued, clearly annoyed: “I think my attitude back there was already quite mild. If I were really your boyfriend, my attitude would only be worse.”

“…” Perhaps because he’d slipped fully into the role of an actual boyfriend, Qi Xi felt like Gu Yan’s voice sounded almost like he was gritting his teeth.

This surprised Qi Xi—she hadn’t expected Gu Yan to actually be the jealous type. He didn’t seem like it at all… he always looked so composed and steady, yet underneath he was this possessive? Was that why he couldn’t let go of his unrequited crush?

Gu Yan finished speaking, paused, then asked, sounding perfectly natural, “Why so quiet? Are you upset I came to take you away?”

Qi Xi gathered her thoughts, pushing aside the tangle of ideas in her head, and answered matter-of-factly, “Not really, but I thought he was decent overall—might’ve been worth having a full meal with him to see.”

“That’s exactly how a lot of things start. First you think, ‘he’s decent,’ so you have a meal. Then you think, ‘he’s decent,’ so you start dating. Then you think, ‘he’s decent,’ so you get married. Do you know why we lawyers get so many divorce cases? It’s because too many people settle for ‘decent’ without really thinking it through.”

Qi Xi was almost touched. “Gu Yan, I didn’t know you could string together such long sentences! Have you noticed? You’ve said so much to me today!”

“…”

“So you’re saying you’d never settle?” Qi Xi thought about it, then, out of genuine curiosity, asked, “Then what about that girl you like—if she never likes you back, what will you do? Just never start another relationship at all?”

The evening breeze tousled Qi Xi’s hair; she smoothed it back. “Of course, if you don’t want to talk about this, we can change the subject.”

But unexpectedly, after a long silence, Gu Yan didn’t avoid the topic at all.

“I did think about giving up on liking her, and starting fresh.”

Gu Yan’s voice was as cool and detached as ever, but Qi Xi found herself sitting up straight.

This was huge!

She might just successfully break into Gu Yan’s inner world, becoming the good colleague who helped him sort out his love life, truly burying the hatchet between them once and for all!

Though Gu Yan didn’t show much more than that, when Qi Xi’s gaze traveled past his straight back, she noticed that the moment he mentioned the girl who’d rejected him, the tendons on the back of his hand—gripping the handlebars—stood out slightly, tight and tense. That was the kind of grip that only came from real effort.

He cared about her that much…

For a moment, Qi Xi didn’t know quite what to feel.

From university through her career, she’d focused solely on winning her father’s approval, cutting off every other kind of feeling, terrified that dating would hurt her grades, wanting only to be first in everything.

Qi Xi felt that, looking back on the path she’d walked, she shouldn’t have any regrets.

But in this moment—maybe the wind was too gentle, or the night too soft—she suddenly felt a hollow kind of wistfulness. To be loved and cared for so wholeheartedly, the way Gu Yan clearly loved this girl—that seemed like something precious. As if only a youth like that could really be called worthwhile.

For things in the past that couldn’t be changed, Qi Xi preferred not to dwell on them, so she looked at Gu Yan’s back and decided to redirect her attention. “So then what happened? Why didn’t you two end up starting over?” Qi Xi thought for a moment, then added, “If you don’t want to say, that’s fine too.”

Gu Yan’s voice was a little muffled, but he answered anyway. “Because every time I was about to give up, she’d show up again.”

Though there was something touching about this naive, tender feeling, still—

“That’s a total player move!” Qi Xi couldn’t hold back her indignation. “Isn’t she just stringing you along? Keeping you as a backup, using the fact that you like her—like flying a kite, right when you’re about to drift too far, she reels you back in. That’s some serious manipulation! Look, she already rejected you, but she keeps popping up in your life anyway, reminding you of her every so often, like a drug you can’t kick!”

Gu Yan glanced back at Qi Xi. “Mm, she is pretty skilled at it.”

“Very good-looking?”

“Mm.”

“Great figure?”

“Mm.”

“Grades? Also great?”

“Mm.”

…

Gu Yan’s voice was faint, as though the evening breeze might scatter it at any moment, but somehow Qi Xi could still sense, in the trailing edge of his tone, exactly how he felt about this girl.

In Gu Yan’s eyes, she was probably perfect in every way—after all, love makes everything look beautiful.

Talk about a master-level player! No wonder Gu Yan had fallen so hard.

Qi Xi thought she understood now. “So she must treat you really well too?”

This kind of woman, surely, always played the “I think of you as a friend” card, being gentle and considerate toward Gu Yan, making him feel special, giving him false hope, keeping things ambiguous—even after rejecting him outright, still managing to keep him hopelessly devoted. That’s how she had him wrapped around her finger.

But when it came to this question, Gu Yan’s answer was surprisingly negative. “No. She treats me pretty badly.”

…Wait, what?

Then why was he still chasing after her??

Qi Xi was stunned. “How badly?”

“Whatever gifts she gives me are always wrong—always something I don’t like.”

Gu Yan’s usually composed voice carried a rare trace of emotion this time. Qi Xi could tell he was holding something back, still a little upset about it, but probably because he genuinely liked her, he’d endured it anyway.

That was way too much!

Even though she wasn’t the one experiencing it, just imagining it made Qi Xi feel suffocated. “Gu Yan, you can’t let that slide! If someone gives you something you don’t like, you should tell her clearly you don’t like it—why put up with it?”

Gu Yan normally seemed so difficult to deal with, not at all the type to suffer in silence!

But then Gu Yan’s logic completely threw her off. The man glanced back at her calmly. “At least she still gives me something. If I told her clearly I didn’t like it, she might stop giving me anything at all.”

“…” Gu Yan. A man. Needed to stand up for himself!!

“I know you really like her, but I think there’s something off about this girl’s character. If she’s going to keep you on the hook as a backup option, she should at least have some professional ethics about it—at least learn what you actually like. It seems like she doesn’t care about you at all… maybe you really should consider liking someone else…”

This woman really didn’t put in any effort for Gu Yan at all. Look at herself—she’d only offended Gu Yan, and wanting to patch things up with him, she’d still gone through the trouble of finding a whole “Gu Yan Encyclopedia.” That “Gu Yan Encyclopedia” wasn’t even hard to find—if this other woman had any decency at all, she could’ve easily put together something similar to be considerate of him!

Thinking of this, Qi Xi suddenly felt lucky. Thanks to that “Gu Yan Encyclopedia,” everything she’d given Gu Yan catered exactly to his tastes, which was why she’d managed to close the distance and smooth things over with him so quickly.

But Gu Yan seemed absolutely committed to this woman who’d wronged him—no matter what Qi Xi said, he didn’t seem to think she’d done anything wrong at all. “There’s nothing wrong with her. She just doesn’t like me, that’s all.”

Although Gu Yan’s tone was perfectly calm in this moment, Qi Xi could hear in it a kind of weary resignation born from being worn down, along with a deep, restrained affection.

Gu Yan—this was honestly a bit pathetic, a bit too self-effacing!

To think that Gu Yan, who usually got whatever he wanted, who effortlessly took first place in every competition and activity, also had something he couldn’t obtain no matter how hard he tried. Qi Xi suddenly thought of her own unattainable “first place,” and felt an instant kinship with him. She suddenly felt like the two of them were truly kindred spirits, fellow sufferers who should absolutely become comrades-in-arms.

Normally Qi Xi didn’t like meddling too much in other people’s private feelings, but this time she genuinely felt compelled to give him some heartfelt advice. “Gu Yan, move on. This woman isn’t worth it—so what if she’s pretty and has a great figure? Plenty of people like you or are chasing after you. Surely there’s someone out there who meets your standards, someone you can actually talk to, with a good personality? This woman doesn’t sound like she has a great personality at all. You should really get over her and start fresh!”

But all of Qi Xi’s earnest advice earned her only an eye-roll from Gu Yan. The man glanced back at her, then turned his gaze back to the road ahead. “They’re not her.”

He said it almost like he was sulking, almost defiantly—

“I just like women with bad tempers.”

“…” Qi Xi was utterly speechless. Men really could be exasperating.

But on second thought, she felt a bit sorry for Gu Yan too—it wasn’t really his fault, after all. This woman was clearly playing at such a high level, showing up to stir his feelings every time he tried to give up. Gu Yan, suffering from lovesickness and devoted to someone who clearly wasn’t worth it—even if he knew rationally what she was really like, emotionally he still couldn’t get past it. No wonder she had him wrapped around her finger.

“How about this—next time this woman comes looking for you, if you can’t bring yourself to keep your distance emotionally, just call me. I’ll help pull you back from the edge. I’ll be the one to break up this ‘toxic romance.'”

Gu Yan had already stepped up to help her dodge blind dates and pose as her boyfriend a few times now. It only seemed fair for her to return the favor.

But Gu Yan frowned, clearly about to reject her offer.

Qi Xi was a little annoyed. “What, what’s wrong? Am I not even qualified enough for you to look down on me? I think I look pretty good, I’m decent in most respects—aside from having a slightly rough personality, don’t you think I could hold my own against that terrible woman in your heart?”

“You think you have a good personality?”

Qi Xi said confidently, “Don’t I have a good personality?”

“You call publicly cursing me out at graduation a good personality?”

“…”

Fine, fine, that was her own fault for bringing it up—somehow she’d talked herself right into a corner.

Qi Xi quickly tried to do damage control. “Anyway, everyone says I have a good personality. But let’s not talk about the past—let’s look toward the future together. Right now we’re working hard under your sister, and we’re bound to make good money. All this romantic entanglement stuff is just an obstacle to our progress. Let’s talk about something else.” Qi Xi thought for a moment. “Let’s set a small goal—once you’ve made ten million, what are you going to spend it on?”

“Give it to her.”

…What?

Qi Xi was at a complete loss. Had Gu Yan not gotten over this at all? “Ten million?! Why would you give that woman ten million?”

“If I give her ten million, maybe she’ll marry me on the spot.”

No way.

Qi Xi wanted to roll her eyes so badly. “Wow, a woman that money-hungry, and she’d marry you for ten million? Is that even real love? Have some backbone, Gu Yan! Why would you like someone so materialistic! And besides, if she’s that shallow, why would she settle for just ten million? If it were me, and I was really being mercenary about it, I’d hold out for at least a hundred million before marrying anyone!”

“…” Gu Yan’s face now clearly bore the expression of someone who no longer wanted to continue this conversation.

“Never mind, never mind—even if someone actually gave me a hundred million, I still wouldn’t marry them.” Qi Xi sat on the back of Gu Yan’s bike, letting the evening breeze tousle her hair as she stared at the traffic streaming by in the distance, and decided to clarify something about herself. “I might not even date anyone, honestly.”

Gu Yan noticeably paused, apparently intrigued by this topic. The man asked almost immediately, “Why not?”

“My dad. He’s never approved of girls, not since I was a kid. He thinks women shouldn’t be lawyers, thinks women shouldn’t build careers, thinks a woman’s only real success is finding a good family to marry into and having kids early. But I refuse. I want to show him that whatever men can do, we can do too.”

“What does that have to do with dating?”

Qi Xi flipped her hair. “If dating derails your ambitions, wouldn’t that just prove my dad right?”

Gu Yan’s tone turned distinctly sarcastic. “Seems like you were getting along pretty well with today’s date, though?”

“Wanting to finish a full meal with today’s date was purely because I felt like his experience was something I could learn from. As for actually dating—that’s never going to happen. Men are just stumbling blocks on the road to success.”

Perhaps because relationship topics tend to bring people closer, Gu Yan seemed genuinely interested in this one. “So you’ll only consider dating once your career is stable?”

Qi Xi nodded. “I guess. At least once I’ve achieved something in my career.”

“So you didn’t go to Columbia because of your father?”

Bringing this up soured Qi Xi’s mood immediately. “Yeah. He thought girls didn’t need that much education, forced me toward some nine-to-five stable job so I’d get married and have kids early. But I refuse. I’m going to stay at this firm for the long haul, until I become a big partner like your sister.”

Speaking of studying abroad reminded Qi Xi of Gu Yan. “Oh right, didn’t you list wanting to join a law firm during the career survey? Why did you later say you were going to the US instead? And then you got the offer from Columbia and didn’t go after all—can I ask why?”

This was a fairly personal question, and under other circumstances Qi Xi wouldn’t have asked. But the mood felt right, so she opened up and shared her own story about narrowly missing out on Columbia, thinking that sharing this mutual regret might bring them closer—maybe after a good talk, by the end of the night, she and Gu Yan would have leveled up into true confidants!

But just as Qi Xi assumed Gu Yan’s silence meant he was thinking about how to explain the change in his career plans, she heard him finally get out two words—

“Can’t.”

Gu Yan’s voice was so calm, so composed, that Qi Xi thought she must have misheard.

She’d just poured her heart out about her own troubles—shouldn’t he reciprocate with at least something? Wasn’t that how normal social exchange was supposed to work these days?

But Gu Yan just looked cold, seemingly unbothered by his own lack of social grace. He stopped the bike and looked at Qi Xi, as if he were sulking. “We’re here. Get off.”

“…”

Sure, knowing he couldn’t go to Columbia probably wasn’t a pleasant memory either, but why was he getting mad at her!

It’s not like she was the one who made him change his career plans!

Keep this up, and she wouldn’t even treat him to durian anymore!

**

The first thing Qi Xi did when she got home was transfer money to tonight’s “date.”

She’d kept an eye on the bill when ordering, so she knew the price of the meal, and she had his phone number, so she looked him up on Alipay and decided to transfer the money directly. It was a bit pricey, but splitting the bill meant she wouldn’t owe anyone anything.

But after she transferred half the amount as her share, he sent it right back, along with a message—

“Your boyfriend already paid.”

…What?

Paid? How had he already paid?

Qi Xi wanted to scream. Gu Yan hadn’t said a word about this to her!

She immediately called Gu Yan, and in the face of her questioning, his tone remained perfectly calm—

“Forgot to mention it.”

Qi Xi was at a loss for words. “How do you forget something like that? Didn’t you not even have money for food? And I was planning to split the bill with him—that way I’d only pay half, and he’d cover the other half. Now that you paid, I’m out the whole amount.”

But Gu Yan stayed perfectly composed. “When a ‘boyfriend’ comes to take his girlfriend home from dinner with another man, is he not supposed to pay the bill? Of course I had no choice but to grit my teeth and pay—otherwise that guy might think your boyfriend was a pushover and keep pursuing you, right?”

He paused, his tone turning faintly sarcastic again. “Though, I suppose maybe I overstepped.”

With him putting it that way, Qi Xi felt a bit embarrassed—after all, wasn’t Gu Yan just doing her a favor out of the goodness of his heart?

But still…

Qi Xi nearly wanted to kneel through the phone. “It’s just that now I owe you even more…”

Gu Yan couldn’t help but let out a cold huff. “Can money even pay off what you owe me?” the man said coldly. “You already owe me that much—what’s a few more yuan to worry about?”

Fair point…

“Spend less time on blind dates and dating, and more time working for my sister,” the man on the other end said coldly. “I’m not saying anything else. I’ve got overtime. Hanging up.”

What a heartless, cold-blooded man.

But while Gu Yan was cold and unfeeling, Qi Xi still had a heart. She opened up the “Gu Yan Encyclopedia,” ready to plan tomorrow’s meal.

Tomorrow afternoon, Gu Yan would be following Gu Xuehan to handle that superstitious old man’s custody dispute case, and he also had a client meeting in the morning—his schedule was packed, and he probably wouldn’t have time to go out and eat.

This called for a lunchbox filled with friendship!

The firm had a microwave, and Qi Xi had it all planned out—she’d just need to prepare the food ahead of time and heat it up for him during his brief lunch break. Whatever the case, it would still beat all that oily, salty, sugary takeout he usually ordered! And besides, Qi Xi was quite confident in her cooking skills.

According to the “Gu Yan Encyclopedia,” Gu Yan’s favorite foods were cilantro, shiitake mushrooms, tofu products, rice, and sweet things.

Qi Xi thought it over, and that night, catering exactly to his tastes, she made a lavish lunchbox—sweet and sour ribs, stir-fried cilantro, mushroom-braised tofu, all things Gu Yan loved, paired with plump white rice. She even sprinkled a layer of black sesame seeds on top. Once packed into the lunchbox, it looked absolutely gorgeous and delicious.

After finishing the cooking, she handed Zhao Yiran the portion she’d set aside for her. Zhao Yiran immediately started showering her with compliments, though clearly not paying much attention, because within moments she was back to scrolling on her phone.

“So blissful! What a tearjerker!”

Zhao Yiran’s eyes were full of longing. “Did you see? Ai Xiang’s wife Chen Xiang opened a Weibo account, and now she and Ai Xiang post lovey-dovey stuff every day. Give us single people some hope, please!”

Qi Xi paused. Bound by confidentiality regarding her client’s information, she couldn’t say anything to Zhao Yiran—she simply pulled up her phone and quickly understood what Zhao Yiran was looking at.

Chen Xiang, who had always stayed behind the scenes, living only within Ai Xiang’s Weibo posts, had now opened her own account. Though the tone was serene and unhurried, she’d started interacting frequently with Ai Xiang, and her daily posts were full of loving moments between them. She’d even shown her face, giving interviews to several media outlets, openly discussing the details of how she and Ai Xiang had met and fallen in love, reminiscing about their relationship.

In the interviews, Chen Xiang came across as gracious and composed, and when discussing Ai Xiang, she wore the shy, affectionate expression of a woman in love. If Qi Xi hadn’t personally witnessed what had actually happened, she wouldn’t have been able to imagine what Chen Xiang had really gone through—on the surface, her marriage to Ai Xiang looked blissful, with no trace of trouble at all.

That was the performance Chen Xiang was putting on, and the general public was buying it too—the internet was flooded with blessings and envy for their marriage.

Had Ai Xiang finally realized his mistake and turned back from the brink?

But when Qi Xi curiously pulled up the Weibo account of the young celebrity—Ai Xiang’s mistress—she no longer thought so.

That protégée Chen Xiang had once mentored, now a minor celebrity, was also frequently posting about her own romance—

“The car my boyfriend bought me.”

“The bag my boyfriend specifically got for me.”

“Had to go through several resellers before my boyfriend finally found these shoes in my size.”

Alongside the text, the young celebrity posted photos of luxury car keys, a Hermès packaging bag, and designer shoe styles.

Every word dripped with boastfulness and possessiveness over her boyfriend, as if she and Chen Xiang were locked in some kind of arms race, each trying to out-flaunt the other’s happiness.

Since she wasn’t particularly famous, no one bothered digging into who her boyfriend actually was—the comments beneath her posts were full of “so sweet, sis is so lucky, pretty girls always find boyfriends” type sentiments.

Clearly, Ai Xiang hadn’t actually returned to his family, and the young celebrity hadn’t backed off either—Chen Xiang’s marriage was likely brewing an even bigger storm.

But bound by his public image, Ai Xiang had no choice but to keep up appearances on Weibo, interacting with Chen Xiang, and in interviews, skillfully playing the role of the devoted, family-oriented husband, reaping all the benefits that image afforded him.

Whether this was the life Chen Xiang actually wanted, no one could say.

But none of that was really anyone else’s business.

Even Zhao Yiran, who cared so much about this whole situation, lost interest after about ten minutes of watching the Ai Xiang-Chen Xiang interview, and instead turned to chat with Qi Xi about some bizarre case she’d encountered at work recently.

Qi Xi quickly put the whole Chen Xiang matter out of her mind too—she had more important things to focus on: working hard, and building camaraderie with her colleagues.

The next morning, Qi Xi confidently brought her lunchbox to work.

Sure enough, Gu Yan stayed busy all morning and genuinely had no time to eat. Qi Xi seized the moment and handed him the freshly heated lunchbox.

“Gu Yan, I made this lunch specially for you.”

Even though she’d clearly done her research using the “Gu Yan Encyclopedia” to cater to his tastes, Qi Xi still wanted to create the impression that this was simply a kindred-spirit intuition between them. “I just threw together whatever, but I had a feeling you’d like it.”

Gu Yan paused, then lowered his gaze and took the lunchbox, offering a brief, succinct thank-you.

Though his expression showed nothing special, Qi Xi could sense that Gu Yan was in a decent mood—there was even a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, barely suppressed. After all, who would want to go into a court hearing on an empty stomach? Wasn’t this act of hers exactly like sending charcoal in the snow?

But no matter how well Gu Yan hid his feelings, the moment he opened the lunchbox lid, his face couldn’t help but show genuine surprise.

Of course it would.

Qi Xi had arranged everything so adorably, and cilantro, shiitake mushrooms, rice, tofu products, sweet and sour ribs—every single item was something Gu Yan loved. How could he not be pleasantly surprised?

Qi Xi looked rather pleased with herself. “I spent a whole evening making this—how is it? To your taste?”

Gu Yan seemed genuinely moved. He held the lunchbox, staring at the generous spread inside for a long moment before finally letting out an “Mm.”

“Eat plenty, then! Your hearing this afternoon is probably going to run pretty long!”

Gu Yan didn’t say anything more. He sat down holding the lunchbox and began eating under Qi Xi’s watchful gaze. Perhaps because her stare was a bit too intense, Gu Yan seemed somewhat self-conscious eating under it—Qi Xi even thought his grip on the chopsticks looked stiff.

If it were her being watched while eating, she wouldn’t be comfortable either, so Qi Xi finally looked away.

But after a while of scrolling on her phone, when she looked back at Gu Yan, she found his lunchbox was already nearly empty!

Gu Yan was normally the most leisurely, etiquette-conscious eater—how had he finished so fast? Only wolfing it down could explain that.

Gu Yan, however, remained perfectly composed. Meeting Qi Xi’s shocked gaze, he said calmly, “In a hurry.”

Qi Xi checked her watch. “But… isn’t there still some time before the hearing?”

That fast—he probably hadn’t even chewed properly before swallowing! No time to actually taste any of it!

But Gu Yan stayed perfectly calm about it, offering a terse explanation: “Hungry.”

Sure enough, Gu Yan probably really had been starving—he’d looked energetic enough coming out of the conference room earlier, but now he looked utterly drained, clearly having forced himself to hold it together in front of the client, only to drop the act completely once alone with Qi Xi, showing the fragile, famished side of himself.

A bit pitiful.

But Qi Xi’s spirits were greatly lifted by this—she felt like she and Gu Yan had grown even closer!

After all, the usually flawless, effortlessly graceful Gu Yan had shown her his vulnerable side! Look at that weak complexion just now! Not an act at all—genuinely, truly on the brink of collapse!

Qi Xi felt an overwhelming rush of care and warmth. “Do you have somewhere to eat tonight? Want to come eat with me and Zhao Yiran? I’m planning to make cilantro egg pancakes, tofu fish soup, and sweet and sour pork tonight…”

But before Qi Xi could even finish listing the menu, Gu Yan’s refusal came firm and immediate: “No!”

He looked at Qi Xi with a complicated expression. “I’m on a diet lately. Not eating dinner.”

“But you already have a great body! You don’t need to diet!”

“Still need to. A person should always strive to improve.”

…

No matter how Qi Xi tried to persuade him, Gu Yan had made up his mind. By the time he headed out for his hearing, looking utterly worn out, Qi Xi still couldn’t quite make sense of it—could it be that Gu Yan’s great physique wasn’t from exercise at all, but from starving himself?

Fortunately, Qi Xi soon had no time left to ponder Gu Yan’s body management, because she received a message from Cheng Junliang—

“Qi Xi, could you lend me ten thousand yuan?”

Cheng Junliang was Qi Xi’s college classmate—and, as it happened, he’d been in the same dorm as Gu Yan. Qi Xi wasn’t particularly close with him; she only remembered him as a decent student from a not-well-off family who’d gotten through school on national financial aid. He’d originally been recommended for graduate study, but to ease the financial burden on his family, he’d rushed straight into a small law firm after graduation instead.

Qi Xi told Zhao Yiran about this over WeChat.

Zhao Yiran called her back almost immediately. “Cheng Junliang? He’s asking you for money too?”

Zhao Yiran sounded thoroughly unsurprised, and advised her firmly. “Whatever you do, don’t lend it to him. He’s been borrowing money from everyone since last week. At first we thought his account had been hacked, but we checked and it really was him. He’s already gone through basically everyone in our class who could lend him anything. Anyone who’s even a little close to him and asked why, he just gets vague and evasive about it—clearly hiding something he’s ashamed of. And sure enough, none of the money he’s borrowed so far has been paid back at all.”

Zhao Yiran sounded exasperated. “The nerve of him—he’s not even close with you, and he just straight up asks for ten thousand yuan? Does he think you’re made of money? He still owes me a thousand yuan he hasn’t paid back! Just block him and save yourself the trouble.”

Easier said than done—Qi Xi still felt uneasy about it.

Because he was good-looking and had a quiet, gentle personality, Cheng Junliang had actually been pretty popular back in college, with quite a few girls interested in him. But maybe because of his family’s circumstances, he’d turned down every single one of them, living a frugal, disciplined life.

But if he was this frugal, disciplined, and even fairly proud, why would he go around borrowing money from everyone, even someone he barely knew like herself? And straight for such a large sum—ten thousand yuan? Could he possibly be caught up in some predatory loan scheme?

Qi Xi thought about it and finally called Cheng Junliang. “Cheng Junliang, you need to borrow ten thousand yuan?”

Sure enough, Cheng Junliang’s voice sounded hesitant and awkward. “I know it’s strange asking to borrow from you. If it’s not convenient, forget it—sorry to bother you.”

The more he acted this way, the more suspicious Qi Xi grew. She steadied her tone and said calmly, “Ten thousand is a fair amount. If you want it, you’ll need to write me an IOU in person. Let’s have dinner tonight—your treat.”

Sure enough, Cheng Junliang’s voice was filled with surprised delight. “You’re willing to lend it to me? That’s great! Don’t worry, I’ll write the IOU, and I’ll definitely pay you back.”

Qi Xi arranged a time and place with Cheng Junliang, then immediately sent Zhao Yiran the good news: “Just wait—if Cheng Junliang really doesn’t have some legitimate hardship, I’ll make sure to get your thousand yuan back for you tonight, no matter what.”

**

Gu Yan’s hearing dragged on quite a while, and he didn’t get back to the firm until nearly the end of the workday. By then, Qi Xi was already packing up her computer to head out for her appointment. Seeing Gu Yan, she suddenly remembered something.

“Gu Yan, did Cheng Junliang ask you to lend him money? If he asks, send me a screenshot of proof he borrowed from you—I’m meeting him for dinner tonight and asking him for it back. He wants to borrow ten thousand yuan from me.”

Gu Yan frowned. “He didn’t ask me. You’re having dinner with him tonight? Just the two of you?”

Qi Xi nodded. “Yeah, we’ve set a time. I’m heading out now.”

But just as Qi Xi was about to leave, Gu Yan’s voice stopped her—

“I don’t have dinner tonight.”

Huh?

Qi Xi paused mid-step, a bit surprised. “Aren’t you not eating dinner tonight because you’re on a diet?”

Gu Yan’s voice sounded a bit sulky; the man glared at her. “Do I need to diet? Are you implying I’m fat?”

“…”

You’re the one who said you were dieting!

“Anyway, I’m hungry, I want to eat.” Gu Yan’s voice was calm and matter-of-fact. “But I have no money.”

He glanced at her. “Already spent it all paying for your blind date.”

“…”

Fine, fine!

“If you don’t mind, want to come have dinner with me and Cheng Junliang?”

Gu Yan’s voice sounded a bit reluctant. “I suppose.”

But despite saying that, he ended up walking faster than Qi Xi. “Where are we eating?”

“…”

**

Qi Xi had picked an affordable roadside barbecue place, lively and bustling—but once she and Gu Yan sat down at their table, they stood out awkwardly against the cheerful atmosphere.

Gu Yan sat beside Qi Xi, and looking across at Cheng Junliang, he didn’t even bother with pleasantries, cutting straight to the point with a scrutinizing, guarded look. “Why did you ask Qi Xi to lend you so much money?”

Though the mood had turned heavy, seeing Gu Yan like this, Qi Xi assumed his next line would be about how Cheng Junliang wasn’t being considerate—asking Qi Xi, who barely knew him, for money instead of asking Gu Yan, his former roommate.

After all, Qi Xi had already told Gu Yan earlier about the purpose of tonight’s dinner with Cheng Junliang—borrowing money—and Gu Yan had still agreed to come along, which probably meant he shared her concern for their old classmate, and wasn’t opposed to lending him money to help in an emergency. Otherwise, who would willingly get involved in a dinner like this? Everyone usually tried to run the other way as fast as possible!

Sure enough, in the next moment, Gu Yan spoke up: “Don’t ask her.”

Just as Qi Xi thought Gu Yan was about to generously offer to lend Cheng Junliang the money himself, saying “ask me instead,” she heard Gu Yan continue, word by word—

“She already owes me quite a bit of money. She doesn’t have anything to lend you.”

…Wait, what? This wasn’t going the way she expected.

Cheng Junliang looked visibly embarrassed, while Gu Yan calmly sipped his tea.

After a moment of silence, Cheng Junliang finally couldn’t hold it together anymore. He sighed, his face full of shame and helplessness. “I’m sorry—forget I ever mentioned borrowing money. As for what I owe the others, I remember every bit of it. I’ll pay it all back, one by one…”

Cheng Junliang said this and started to get up to leave, but it was at this moment that Gu Yan spoke again. “How much are you short?”

Cheng Junliang looked uneasy. “Just ten thousand more…”

“I’ll lend it to you.”

Cheng Junliang was stunned, and so was Qi Xi—the only calm one in the room was Gu Yan himself. This creditor-to-be pressed his lips together. “But you need to tell us honestly why you suddenly need this much money.”

…

Cheng Junliang, who had already resigned himself to not getting the loan, suddenly found himself at an unexpected turning point, and the composure he’d forced himself to maintain finally crumbled—

“It’s not that anyone in my family is sick, and it’s not that I overspent and took out a loan for myself. I need the money simply because I botched a case.”

As Cheng Junliang recounted how it all started, exhaustion and pain washed over his face. “My grades in school were middle of the pack, but English was always my weak point. Now even a big firm like Jingying requires English proficiency exams, and I can’t get past that. I wanted to earn money to support my family quickly, so I took a job at a small firm. It’s small, but the terms included a commission on top of base salary, which sounded flexible—like if I worked hard enough, I could earn just as much as at a big firm.”

“But after starting, I realized I’d oversimplified things. Small firms only get small cases, and as a new lawyer there, I definitely couldn’t build up my own client base. Just handling those trivial civil disputes—sometimes running myself ragged, and then the client suddenly drops the suit, or refuses to pay, or the case just can’t move forward. It’s a mess, and I barely made any money…”

…

As Cheng Junliang continued, Qi Xi and Gu Yan finally understood the real reason behind his need to borrow money—

He’d finally landed a loan dispute case. The amount in question was small, but there was an IOU as evidence, and the flow of funds was clearly documented—a relatively winnable case that just needed to proceed through the standard process. But the problem arose with that very IOU.

“The client gave me the original IOU, and I left it on my desk. Around that time, I happened to be helping my supervising attorney organize case files, and somehow, I don’t even know how, the original IOU went missing. I searched everywhere and couldn’t find it.”

Cheng Junliang lowered his gaze, his face full of shame. “Now the case is at risk of losing because the original IOU is gone, and the client is demanding I personally compensate for the loss, or they’ll come to the firm and hang banners to make a scene. This client even had someone track down my parents’ contact information and has been harassing them by phone, demanding I pay up immediately…”

Qi Xi finally began to understand. “So the reason you wouldn’t tell anyone why you needed the money is because you felt too ashamed?”

Cheng Junliang didn’t deny it. “Something like this getting out would sound terrible, and honestly, making such a rookie mistake really is my fault. I know everyone’s curious why I’m borrowing money—I could’ve lied and said a family member suddenly got sick and I needed money urgently, but I didn’t want to lie to people.”

“So instead you just stayed vague and said nothing?”

“Yeah.”

Cheng Junliang sounded urgent. “But I will definitely pay everyone back. I’m grateful to everyone who’s lent me money—I remember it all, it’s just… it won’t be quick…”

Looking at Cheng Junliang’s faded, well-worn shirt, Qi Xi felt a pang of sympathy. “How much was the total amount involved in the lost evidence—the IOU?”

“One hundred and twenty thousand…”

Even having expected the sum to be substantial, hearing the actual figure still made Qi Xi gasp. For someone like Cheng Junliang, just starting his career at a small firm, that kind of after-tax income could easily take two years to save, without spending on anything else—and that’s not even counting his rent, food, transportation, and other living expenses…

“You said you’re only short ten thousand now—so you’ve already borrowed a total of one hundred and ten thousand from classmates?”

Cheng Junliang lowered his head. “I borrowed almost fifty thousand total from other classmates and relatives.”

“And the remaining sixty thousand?”

“I took out online loans.”

Qi Xi wanted to hold her head in her hands. “The problem is, online loan interest rates are so high, and there are repayment deadlines—this money isn’t going to just turn around quickly for you. And when that sixty thousand in loans comes due, what then? Are you going to rob Peter to pay Paul and take out loans from other platforms? Let the debt snowball bigger and bigger? You’re a law student yourself, currently a practicing intern lawyer—don’t you know what happens to victims of these predatory loans down the line? You’re still so young, and you’re already wrecking your credit. You won’t be able to get a mortgage or car loan in the future, and you could end up harassed by debt collection calls until you break down!”

Gu Yan, by comparison, remained much calmer. “What does your firm say about this? Normally, as an intern lawyer, you shouldn’t be handling cases independently. If something like this happened, shouldn’t your supervising attorney also bear some responsibility for failing to give you a proper risk warning? He should be the one communicating with the client, reporting to the firm, and the firm should help minimize your losses too.”

As it turned out, this only made Cheng Junliang’s expression fall further. “I haven’t told them. My supervising attorney is very strict. He never warned me about it, but honestly, this was my own carelessness—the client didn’t have pockets on him at the time, said he was in the middle of moving, and was worried about losing the original document, so he asked me to hold onto it for a few days. I felt bad for him and agreed, and I definitely put it safely on my desk, but when I went to look for it again, it was gone.”

“If I confess this to my supervising attorney, the firm will definitely fire me. As for the hundred-and-twenty-thousand compensation, since my supervising attorney wasn’t at fault, there’s no way he’d cover it either. And besides ruining my reputation completely in the legal field, it wouldn’t help at all—I might even lose my current job, and then I wouldn’t even have the means to pay anyone back…”

Qi Xi and Gu Yan exchanged a glance, both realizing this was quite the bind. But it was clear neither of them thought paying the compensation was the right solution—with just a brief exchange of looks, Qi Xi already knew that she and Gu Yan were probably thinking the same thing.

Sure enough, Gu Yan’s next words confirmed Qi Xi’s suspicion—

“So, to clarify: your client lent the defendant one hundred and twenty thousand yuan, and there was a handwritten IOU from the other party. Now the client wants to sue and forcibly recover this loan through legal means, but you lost the original IOU, which is why the client is making a scene at your firm and demanding you personally compensate the hundred and twenty thousand?”

Cheng Junliang nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

Qi Xi glanced at Gu Yan, then jumped straight in, picking up his train of thought. “Then why should you personally pay for it? You shouldn’t have to pay at all!”

Cheng Junliang was stunned.

“Losing evidence doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll lose the case!” Qi Xi said, looking at Cheng Junliang. “Losing the IOU definitely isn’t great for winning, but it doesn’t automatically mean you can’t win either, because there might be other evidence chains between your client and the defendant that can prove the loan existed. And even without the IOU, as long as the defendant doesn’t realize the evidence is missing, there’s a good chance he’ll just admit to the loan out of guilt or carelessness anyway.”

Gu Yan pressed his lips together too. “Originally, with the original IOU, the outcome would’ve been a win, and you could’ve applied for enforced execution on your client’s behalf. If you can still achieve the same outcome for your client without the IOU—still winning the case for them—then whether or not you have the IOU doesn’t actually matter. You don’t need to personally compensate that hundred and twenty thousand at all.”

This was like waking from a dream. Cheng Junliang’s eyes lit up as it clicked—he smacked his forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that!” He looked frustrated with himself. “After this happened, all I could think was that it was my fault and I had to pay for it. My mind was stuck in one track, I never thought to approach it the way you two just laid out!”

“Anyway, talk it over properly with your client, get them to help provide supporting evidence, and work hard to win this case. You won’t need to cover that hundred and twenty thousand.”

Cheng Junliang perked right up. “Right!”

He looked at Qi Xi and Gu Yan. “Thank you both so much! I’m going to go contact my client right now!”

Cheng Junliang rushed off to talk to his client, hastily thanking them and paying the bill before leaving, leaving Qi Xi and Gu Yan waiting for dessert.

The moment Cheng Junliang left, Qi Xi couldn’t resist praising herself. “See, I really do have good people skills. In the end, Cheng Junliang didn’t ask you for that last ten thousand—he asked me instead. That just proves that deep down, he thinks I’m the generous, reliable one.”

But Gu Yan glanced at her and mercilessly cut off her self-congratulation. “I think it’s more because he figured you’re the type who looks gullible and easy to fool.”

“…”

“Don’t lend money to random guys anymore in the future.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“You still owe me money, and you’re asking why? Are you planning to borrow money from me and then turn around and lend it to someone else to solve their urgent problem?” Gu Yan said coldly, matter-of-factly. “From now on, I’m your creditor—top priority, first in line. Keep that in mind.”

Fine, I guess…

Qi Xi thought about it and figured she couldn’t really argue with that. She decided to try appeasing her creditor instead. “You still seem hungry—want to get a dessert? I hear the durian pastry here is really good…”

But before she could even finish the sentence, Gu Yan cut her off almost desperately. “No need!”

The man cleared his throat and said, with forced composure, “Save your money, pay me back sooner, don’t go ordering random desserts. And don’t buy me durian again until you’ve paid off what you owe me in installments.”

“Then I won’t have any way to treat you to durian in the future…”

Qi Xi had expected that saying this would make Gu Yan let her off the hook for her usual fruit “offerings.” But without missing a beat, the man said flatly, “That’s fine. Something cheap works too. Apples or whatever.”