Just as Chen Xiang had said, Qi Xi soon found out exactly why this was such a good time for a divorce.
With solid evidence in hand and a clear picture of every movement of marital assets, Gu Xuehan, acting as Chen Xiang’s representing attorney, held the upper hand from the start in negotiations with Ai Xiang’s side over the divorce. There was nothing for his side to deny, and he himself seemed almost relieved at the prospect of divorce, so the property division agreement came together smoothly, granting even more of the marital assets than Qi Xi had expected. After completing the mandatory cooling-off period, the two of them registered their divorce by mutual agreement at the civil affairs bureau.
“He’s in a rush to marry that junior of mine—she’s pregnant and using the baby to force his hand. Ai Xiang’s more eager for this divorce than I am right now, so me filing now suits him perfectly.”
But Qi Xi was still a little puzzled by Chen Xiang’s explanation. “Still, no matter how eager he is, most men don’t give up money that easily—would he really let go of that much marital property so readily?”
At that, Chen Xiang gave a scornful little laugh. “Because men get carried away more easily. Ai Xiang probably doesn’t even remember who he is anymore at this point. Thanks to how huge Encountering the Immortal became, his IP value shot up for a while. Remember that serialized novel he was working on at the time, the one called With Wolves? It sold for five million at first, but then he insisted on breaking the deal to resell it elsewhere—and under his insistence, they did terminate the contract and sold it again. Even after paying the breach penalty, he still came out fourteen million ahead. But back then the film and TV industry was flooded with easy money—he used twenty million to buy a company, but the money was one thing, he had no idea what he was doing, no professional team behind it, just some coal-mining tycoon who’d been talked into dabbling in film investment. With Wolves’ IP ended up with that company, and it sat there without a shred of progress for over half a year.”
“That company’s entire team was full of grifters and con artists—no real skill, but great at talking a big game. Ai Xiang was already riding high off Encountering the Immortal, and with all their flattery, they convinced him to sign away exclusive rights to his next ten years of work, promising to build him a whole ‘full IP ecosystem.’ Now that company’s practically a ghost town. Some ‘full IP ecosystem’—they were just middlemen flipping IP rights for a quick markup.”
Wearing an expression of pure “serves him right,” Chen Xiang laid it out calmly. “Not only that—Ai Xiang kept thinking With Wolves could replicate Encountering the Immortal’s success, so he actually fought to invest in that same company as a shareholder. From what I’ve heard, that company also invested in a bunch of other projects, signed several performance guarantee agreements, and because they had no idea what they were doing, spent recklessly. Now several projects apparently can’t even pay their final settlements, and lawsuits are expected as early as next month—and as a shareholder, Ai Xiang won’t be able to escape that either.”
At this point, Chen Xiang finally allowed herself a small smile, looking at Qi Xi. “None of his other IPs will likely ever get developed now. No matter how big Encountering the Immortal was, how many years can that halo really last? Is it going to feed him for the rest of his life? New authors are popping up constantly these days—he’s not irreplaceable, and he’s not so famous he’s transcended the industry. Now that his IP is locked up with that company, he’s basically lost all his development value as an author going forward. If the IP has no meaning left, how’s he supposed to make any money? Not only no money coming in, but a man with no head for investing insisting on throwing money into a field he doesn’t understand—he’s practically guaranteed to lose it all. A man like that, no talent, no wisdom, no future, nothing but debt—what’s the point of keeping him around?”
By this point, Qi Xi understood completely. Chen Xiang really had picked the perfect moment for a divorce. Like a bubble at its peak, Ai Xiang was probably still basking in the illusion of prosperity right now, with no sense of the crisis looming ahead, no idea of the danger hiding just beneath the surface—he probably thought his future was limitless, that he’d soon be making a hundred times what he currently did. That was exactly why he’d agreed to the divorce so readily when Chen Xiang proposed it, with no idea of the storm about to hit him. Before long, he’d fall from his peak straight into the mud, left with nothing but debt—while Chen Xiang, having already secured the bulk of the assets, would walk away clean, completely severed from whatever financial ruin awaited him.
**
“Even though she dragged things out a while longer because she still held onto some hope for Ai Xiang, she eventually let go of that unrealistic hope, put the past behind her, and started fresh unburdened. Chen Xiang really is a courageous person—apparently she’s planning to start her own author management agency, using her experience handling business negotiations for Ai Xiang’s work and the industry connections she’s built, to sign promising new authors. That way, all that time she spent running around for Ai Xiang won’t have been wasted after all—she picked up a lot of valuable industry experience that’s letting her transition smoothly into starting her own business now.”
After saying goodbye to Chen Xiang, Qi Xi still felt a bit reflective. She poked Gu Yan lightly beside her. “Hey, if I’d kept not giving you an answer back then, would you have given up on me too, like Chen Xiang did with Ai Xiang?”
“No.”
Gu Yan’s tone was flat. He was sorting through case files, glancing up briefly at Qi Xi before looking back down at his documents. “Some people are just more skilled at these things, after all.”
He seemed to be choosing his words carefully, pausing a moment before glancing at her again. “What people these days call… a catch-and-release type.”
That did not sit well with Qi Xi. “Excuse me, how am I a ‘catch-and-release type’? What did I even do to you? Gu Yan, don’t go slandering me!”
“You promised to get me a new custom trophy that says ‘love as unbreakable as stainless steel,’ and I still haven’t seen it. All I’ve got is one that says ‘friendship as unbreakable as stainless steel.’ Well, it is pretty sturdy, I’ll give it that—it’s sitting under my desk now, and every time I accidentally kick it, it really hurts.”
Qi Xi felt a pang of embarrassment at his complaint—it was true, she had promised to get that remade right away, but then work got busy and she’d completely forgotten about it…
Fair enough, that one really was on her.
But Qi Xi had always been quick to make amends. Since there was no one else around at the moment, she simply leaned her head against Gu Yan and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Sorry about that.”
Though his tone didn’t budge, Gu Yan’s ears turned a little red. He avoided looking at her but didn’t push her away either, letting her cling to him like some scheming little vixen, only muttering under his breath with mock sternness, “Don’t get so close to me.”
“Embarrassed now, are you?” Qi Xi looked at him, fighting back a laugh, unable to resist teasing, “Funny, weren’t you the one kissing me in the conference room not that long ago?”
“That was different.” Gu Yan’s tone was completely serious, as if he had a perfectly reasonable argument. “I got a little carried away in the moment back then. Right now I’m being much more level-headed and rational.”
“Is that so.”
Qi Xi glanced around. It was Friday, well past the end of the workday—the main office area was already empty, everyone gone, with only Gu Xuehan’s office door closed but light still on, meaning she was probably the only one still working late.
A mischievous idea suddenly struck Qi Xi. She leaned in deliberately toward Gu Yan’s ear and blew a soft breath against it. “Level-headed and rational, huh?”
At that, not only did Gu Yan’s ears turn red, his neck started flushing too, looking like an upright scholar who’d stumbled into a den of temptresses, resolutely refusing to look.
Qi Xi, seeing an opening, didn’t let up. As Gu Yan shifted away, she leaned right along with him, until he was backed up against the wall with nowhere left to go, and she had him completely surrounded.
Having been consumed with her mother’s situation and then entirely focused on the case, Qi Xi hadn’t had the mental space to think about anything else—but now…
There really was some truth to that old saying about how, once one’s basic needs are met, other appetites start stirring.
Looking at Gu Yan so close, his handsome face straining to appear composed, Qi Xi suddenly found her mind wandering somewhere entirely inappropriate for the time and place.
“Alluring without even realizing it” might have been coined specifically for someone like Gu Yan. Just sitting there quietly, offering only the faintest, half-hearted resistance, was somehow enough to make Qi Xi want to do something thoroughly improper to him.
And so, she did.
She pressed herself fully against him, her voice soft. “Don’t be mad about the stainless steel thing, okay? Sure, stainless steel is hard, but my heart is soft.”
Gu Yan seemed to regain a bit of composure, glancing at her once before looking away again, though he couldn’t resist grumbling, “Your heart seems plenty soft for everyone else. You’ve never once forgotten a promise to a client—but you forget your promises to me all the time.”
“My heart is definitely soft for you.” Qi Xi leaned in and planted a quick kiss on the side of his face, then grabbed his hand and pulled it toward her chest.
“Don’t believe me? Go ahead and check for yourself.”
Her eyes were misty, her voice carrying a hint of first-time nervousness mixed with a faint, mischievous thrill. She felt a bit like some temptress leading a saint astray, coaxing him with a light, sugary voice. “It really is soft. Right here, on my left side—want to verify it yourself?”
That, predictably, set Gu Yan off completely.
He yanked his hand back sharply and stood up at once, his eyes faintly flushed with exasperation, his voice carrying a note of helpless, can’t-take-it-anymore frustration. “Qi Xi! What are you doing?!”
Qi Xi nearly doubled over laughing.
Gu Yan looked like he was about to lose it entirely. “This is a law firm!”
Qi Xi nodded along, entirely unrepentant. “Mhm, mhm, that’s exactly what makes it exciting. Besides, the main office is empty anyway.”
“My sister’s still in her office.”
Qi Xi flipped her hair back, striking a nonchalant pose. “Well, your sister already knows anyway. Last time, at your place… there’s no cleaning that up now. She probably already assumes we’ve done everything.” She blinked innocently at Gu Yan. “Though honestly, I do feel a little wronged, since we actually haven’t done anything.”
Gu Yan stared at her, and whatever was going through his mind, after a moment he seemed to find his voice again. “You really want to do that, don’t you?”
Qi Xi blinked, caught off guard.
Honestly, she’d mostly just been talking big—seeing Gu Yan always made her want to tease him a little, without really meaning anything by it. If it actually came down to it, she might well be the one to chicken out…
But before she could clarify, she heard Gu Yan continue—
“Wait a little longer.” His voice sounded a bit strained, but as if he’d made up his mind about something, he looked straight at Qi Xi. “Come home with me tonight.”
He held her gaze, his expression solemn, as if making her a solemn promise.
“Tonight, we’re doing it.”