Qi Xi felt like she’d suddenly gotten drunk out of nowhere, a rush of heat surging through her, an instant head-spin, and at this exact moment she wished nothing more than to find somewhere to hide.

Honestly, Gu Yan—how could he say things like that so casually?

She glanced at him, half amused, half sweetly touched: “I was only gone for a day! I didn’t even stay overnight in Linshi, and I was only away from you for half a day…”

“Right. A whole half a day.” Gu Yan’s tone was restrained and solemn, but there was a hint of sourness to what he said. “You barely contacted me during that half a day in Linshi. I think half a day is quite a long time.”

His tone turned a bit sarcastic: “But looking at you, it seems like you think half a day is nothing much—clearly you haven’t experienced what I went through.”

Watching Gu Yan’s serious profile as he laid out this complaint, Qi Xi suddenly felt a burst of tenderness overcome her, and before she even realized what she was doing, she reached out and patted Gu Yan on the head.

Gu Yan clearly hadn’t anticipated this move from Qi Xi. He blinked, but didn’t pull his head away—instead, his eyes gave off a hint of encouragement.

Qi Xi couldn’t help but laugh a little, then patted his head again, as if petting a big dog.

“I did miss you, of course I did—I just spent the whole day handling something involving an HR director I used to be on good terms with, and because I wanted to hurry back as fast as possible, I spent every single minute at Yuanchen working.”

Gu Yan blinked. “Why were you in such a hurry?”

“Because I wanted to come back and see you as soon as possible.” Qi Xi looked at Gu Yan, her tone somewhat helpless. “After all, there’s a man in Rongshi who couldn’t even bear missing me for half a day.”

“…”

Qi Xi let Gu Yan play with her fingers. She stopped teasing him and instead began simply recounting the events of the day at Yuanchen and the inner conflict she’d wrestled with. About it, she said frankly: “Actually, while I was dealing with all of it, I kept thinking about you the whole time. There was a moment where I genuinely doubted whether what I was doing was right, but then I thought of you, and I felt like, as long as it was you, you’d definitely support what I did. And if you were the one going through this, you’d definitely make the same choice I did. So even though it really was the first time I’d run into this kind of conflict between personal feelings and the law, and I was pretty scared and anxious about it, in the end I don’t regret it. I feel like I made a decision I can live with.”

“I heard Old Dong’s fate is going to be pretty rough. He’ll probably resent me forever, but…”

Gu Yan squeezed her hand back. “But you didn’t do anything wrong.”

He looked at Qi Xi steadily, his voice convincing and comforting: “You just did what you were supposed to do as a lawyer. You were sent to Yuanchen specifically as counsel to help resolve the dispute over Yu Na’s termination. In this whole matter, you had to handle it from the objective, professional standpoint of a third-party lawyer. So, Qi Xi, you did the right thing.”

“Many people face this kind of choice, but very few can avoid being swayed by personal feelings and make a fair, impartial decision. That’s exactly why the few who can are so admirable—like parents who, upon learning their own child broke the law, choose to report it to the police instead of covering it up. It’s difficult, but precisely because it’s difficult, it becomes all the more precious.”

Gu Yan gently touched Qi Xi’s face, then looked away, a bit embarrassed: “Of course, to me, you’ve always been the most precious thing of all.”

Qi Xi pecked his cheek, then felt a bit shy herself: “You’re the most precious thing to me too.” Having said this, feeling a little embarrassed, she quickly changed the subject. “But thanks for coming to pick me up this late tonight, even if it meant you didn’t get to sleep well.”

“It wasn’t hard at all.” After Qi Xi’s surprise peck, Gu Yan’s face flushed slightly. He looked away, his voice low and pleasant. “I keep forgetting to tell you—my lucky number was never seven. I like the BMW 7 Series purely because ‘7 Series’ sounds like your name in Chinese. Being able to drive this car to come pick you up doesn’t feel like a hardship to me at all, because it’s a scene I used to only dream about.”

Qi Xi tilted her head, thinking it over, then looked at Gu Yan. “So you’re saying you used to dream about me at night?”

Gu Yan blinked, clearly not expecting Qi Xi’s attention to land on this particular detail, but he still gave a small “Mm,” lowering his eyes to look at the car’s interior. “I guess so.”

Qi Xi leaned in, wrapping her arms around his arm, nuzzling her nose against his clothes, coaxing him in a sweet, wheedling tone: “So what do you dream about, then? Am I portrayed well in your dreams?”

Whether it was because he’d suddenly recalled something from a specific dream, Gu Yan’s expression grew awkward, his eyes darting away, his tone turning tense. He seemed to want to avoid the topic entirely, giving a curt, evasive answer—

“I’ve forgotten what I dreamed about.” Gu Yan explained, somewhat contradicting himself. “But I’m sure you’re portrayed well in them.”

Qi Xi quickly caught the hole in his logic and, dissatisfied with what felt like a dismissive attitude from him, pressed a bit petulantly: “If you’ve forgotten, how can you still remember that I’m portrayed well?”

Not to mention the way he’d tacked on “I’m sure” felt very telling.

Qi Xi had reasonable grounds to suspect that Gu Yan must have been doing something quite unflattering to her in his dreams, because the more she pressed, the more his embarrassment seemed to intensify—to the point where she almost got the impression he wanted to leap right out of the car window to escape.

Then Qi Xi watched as Gu Yan put on an exaggerated show of checking his watch, announcing that it was getting late and he should get her home soon, clumsily changing the subject in the process.

At this point, Qi Xi felt fairly certain that whatever version of herself existed in Gu Yan’s dreams definitely hadn’t been up to anything good. She sulked a little and privately resolved that tonight, in her own dreams, she’d make sure to torment Gu Yan right back, giving him a good thrashing in her dreams too.

**

In the end, the drive went smoothly, and Gu Yan safely dropped Qi Xi off right at her front door.

The next day was the weekend, and Qi Xi’s mother’s birthday was coming up soon, so Qi Xi decided not to stay at her rented apartment this weekend and instead go home for a visit.

Ever since Qi Xi had uncooperatively torpedoed two blind dates her father Qi Ruiming had arranged, Qi Ruiming had flown into a rage. Qi Xi had heard from her mother that when he got home that night, he’d lost his temper completely, criticizing and belittling Qi Xi from head to toe, declaring he wanted to see just how far she could get relying solely on herself.

Because of this, Qi Ruiming had clearly decided to withhold any financial support whatsoever from Qi Xi, who’d moved out to rent her own place, waiting for her to be the one to back down first. So during the entire time Qi Xi had been living and working on her own, her father hadn’t given her a single cent, and ever since their falling out over the blind dates, he hadn’t even reached out to check on how she was doing.

“Honestly, your father’s just stubborn like that—he’s not a bad person, just has a hot temper, and he’s got high blood pressure too. People with high blood pressure really do struggle to control their emotions, they get worked up more easily sometimes. And your dad’s a partner at a firm, sure, not a big one like Jingge, but the pressure from business and clients is still pretty heavy on him day to day. There shouldn’t be any grudge that lasts overnight between father and daughter. Xixi, honestly, all it would take is for you to give your dad a little bit of ground, and he’d have a way to step back gracefully too.”

Early the next morning, Qi Ruiming had an out-of-town client who suddenly needed a lawyer present as a witness for some work matter, so he’d already left early to catch a train, and Qi Xi never even crossed paths with him.

But with him out of the house, the previously tense atmosphere eased up considerably.

Qi Xi’s mother, Xi Wen, tried to take advantage of the opportunity to talk some sense into her, holding her hand: “You two, father and daughter, honestly have the exact same temper.”

Unfortunately, Qi Xi still had some pent-up frustration: “Come on, he just looks down on women. Look at his old-fashioned thinking—always insisting men should handle the outside world and women should manage the household, that women should just return to the family and support their husbands and raise children. Then what was the point of me studying so hard for the college entrance exam and getting into Rong University? All that studying, just so I could get married and have kids?”

Qi Xi’s mother patted the back of her hand gently, her tone mild: “You shouldn’t put it that way. Mom also graduated from Rong University’s law school, just like your father, but now I’m a full-time homemaker, and I feel very happy with that too. I’m grateful to have a daughter like you. Choosing to leave the workforce to be with you—I’ve never regretted it, and I’ve never felt forced into it either. This was entirely my own choice, and I don’t feel like my education and experience were wasted because of it. I feel very happy with my life right now too.”

Qi Xi couldn’t help but rest her head against her mother.

Xi Wen was always so gentle, and Qi Xi’s heart softened a little because of it, but she still pushed back: “But Mom, I don’t think there should be some pre-set standard for how a woman should want to live her life. Our choices should be free, entirely our own to make. If you feel like family life and raising children brings you more happiness than career success, then you shouldn’t have to worry about your degree—even if it’s a doctorate from a top university, society should still respect your choice to be a full-time homemaker, instead of criticizing you for wasting your education and ruining your future, because it’s your life, your choice.”

“But by that same token, women like me, who feel that career success is the most important part of our life’s value, should also be respected—not pushed out of the workforce or squeezed out of career opportunities under the guise of some so-called traditional idea that ‘men handle the outside, women handle the household.'”

Qi Xi’s tone grew serious: “As long as it’s not illegal, women should be free to make any choice, as long as they’re willing to bear the consequences of that choice. No one of the opposite sex should interfere and insist she should give up her career and return to the household; and no one of the same sex should interfere either and insist that entering the workforce is the only mark of being a modern woman.”

Xi Wen smiled and nodded. “I know, I know—I can’t argue as eloquently as you, my rhetoric’s nowhere near as sharp as yours. Your dad’s thinking is a little too traditional, sure, but that’s just how he thinks, and his intentions really do come from not wanting his own child to suffer too much. Look, last night when you came home in the middle of the night from your business trip, he was still working late at the firm—you and I were both already asleep by the time he got home. And this morning, before you’d even woken up, he was already off on another business trip.”

“Being a successful lawyer means having to sacrifice a lot of personal time, giving it up to work. And you’re still just a junior associate right now—maybe you can’t fully feel that kind of pressure yet. But as you gain more seniority, take on more clients, and every single one of them is pushing you for something, that pressure is really not something you can imagine right now. You still have your mentoring attorney shielding you from a lot of that pressure—you’re not directly facing clients yet.”

Xi Wen gently brushed the loose strands of hair from Qi Xi’s forehead: “Other professions, once you’re familiar with the work, a lot of things become repetitive as you gain age and experience—you can lean on past experience to handle things, and it tends to get easier and smoother the longer you do it. But law isn’t like that. As a lawyer gets older, the cases they take on only get more and more complicated, and the facts of every case are wildly different from the last—there’s really no such thing as a one-and-done shortcut where you can just repeat some past approach and coast through it.”

“As parents, we obviously don’t want our child to repeat that same exhausting kind of life.”

Xi Wen looked into Qi Xi’s eyes, gently guiding her: “Isn’t the whole point of us parents working so hard so our kids can live a little easier? As your mother, of course I want you to not be so exhausted, same as your dad. But I’m a woman too, so I can understand you from another angle as well. That’s why I’m willing to respect and support your choices—just don’t take some of the things your dad says too much to heart.”

Xi Wen smiled. “Your dad’s just like that—he can be a bit blunt sometimes, but deep down he’s very kind-hearted.”

Whenever her own mother talked about her father, an involuntary smile always spread across her face.

Qi Xi knew that even though blind dates, or even arranged marriages, had still been common in her parents’ generation, Xi Wen and Qi Ruiming had actually fallen in love freely. They’d met back when they were both on the debate team at Rong University’s law school. Xi Wen had already been a somewhat well-known debater at the time, while Qi Ruiming had just been a green rookie freshly joining the team. But young, headstrong Qi Ruiming had won Xi Wen over purely through sheer persistence—writing her a love letter every single day. Those collected love letters still served as a keepsake of her parents’ love story today, and Qi Xi often saw her mother pull them out every so often to reread and savor, happiness plainly written all over her face.

Qi Xi had heard from her mother’s friends that back in school, Xi Wen’s grades had actually been better than Qi Ruiming’s, but in the end, it was Xi Wen who’d given up her career and returned to the family, while her father, with Xi Wen’s support, had steadily worked his way up through the ranks at major law firms, accumulating experience and connections, before eventually leaving to start his own small firm.

Even though it was a small firm, he was still a partner, so while his income couldn’t compare to that of a partner at a boutique firm like Jingge, it was still considered a high income compared to ordinary salaried workers.

Qi Xi had, in a sense, witnessed her parents build everything from scratch, supporting each other along the way. Her grandparents on her father’s side had been farmers, so they’d had no way of providing any support to this young family. The standard of living Qi Xi enjoyed today really was a direct result of Qi Ruiming’s hard work.

Thinking about it this way, combined with Xi Wen’s persuasion, Qi Xi’s resentment toward her father eased somewhat, though she still held her ground verbally: “He’s the busiest one there is—has been since I started high school. He almost never comes home for dinner, works late at the firm nearly every single day. And when the weekend finally comes around, when even the courts are closed, he’s still got a pile of social obligations—wining and dining this client, sending gifts to that one.”

Though she still had plenty of grievances about Qi Ruiming, there really was no lasting grudge between father and daughter. But as she recalled the past, Qi Xi grew increasingly wistful: “The night I filled out my college application forms, he didn’t come home. When I gave the student representative speech at my high school graduation, he didn’t show up either. Same thing in college. Am I going to have to schedule an appointment with him in advance for whenever I get married too?”

Xi Wen shook her head helplessly. “Honestly, your dad’s not having an easy time of it either. There really is a mountain of things at the firm, and he’s trying to make as much as he can while he’s still young, so he can leave more behind for you later.”

Having said this, Xi Wen seemed to quickly catch onto a detail that had slipped out unintentionally in what Qi Xi had just said. She fixed her eyes on her daughter. “Xixi, do you have a boyfriend?”

Qi Xi blinked, then immediately tried to deflect and cover it up: “Huh? What? Mom, why are you suddenly asking something like that?” She put on an exasperated act. “You’re not about to start setting me up on blind dates like Dad, are you!”

Xi Wen couldn’t help but laugh mischievously. “I was only suspicious before, but now it looks like you’ve at least got a boy you like. If you don’t feel ready yet, you can hold off on telling me for now, but eventually you have to bring him by for me to vet first.”

Naturally, Qi Xi still wouldn’t admit to it. She swept her hair back, looked away, and pretended to be composed as she pushed back: “That’s all baseless speculation. And why are you suddenly saying this out of nowhere anyway?”

“Whenever anyone brings up marriage around you, you get all worked up, like marriage is some kind of monster trying to stop you, the shining star of the legal world, from reaching your full potential. But listen to what you just said—about needing to schedule an appointment with your dad for when you eventually get married…”

Qi Xi had to admit, even though her mother had been out of the workforce for so long, she’d still graduated from Rong University’s law school, and her ability to zero in on the key point was as sharp as ever.