Chapter 6: Take away the intoxicated expression on your face.

After being selected for Qian Heng’s team, Cheng Yao was once the envy of other newcomers. After all, the cases handled by Qian Heng’s team had high-value commissions, were more prestigious, and carried greater influence. Even if she switched jobs in the future, just having these cases on her résumé would make it look impressive. Moreover, although Qian Heng had a severe case of “boss syndrome,” his professional skills were top-notch. Working under him meant more opportunities for training and growth.

However, that was just the glamorous appearance on the surface.

Cheng Yao walked out of the document printing room, glancing at the other newcomers who were buried in their work, and sighed. Even though she was on Qian Heng’s team, he hadn’t assigned her a single case so far. Instead, it was Bao Rui who gave her some tasks, but they were nothing more than printing documents and binding case files—mindless, menial work with no technical value whatsoever. In contrast, the newcomers assigned to other partners were already modifying prenuptial agreements or even handling divorce cases.

As if mirroring Cheng Yao’s mood, the weather outside was a raging storm. A typhoon had unexpectedly changed course and hit City A. Fortunately, Cheng Yao had left early that morning. Although work started at nine, she had arrived at 8:30, successfully avoiding the downpour.

Unfortunately, her colleagues weren’t as lucky. By 9:30, there were still people who hadn’t arrived.

“Cheng Yao, come to my office.”

Cheng Yao had stayed up all night reviewing case files and had originally planned to discuss them with Bao Rui. But instead of Bao Rui, she ended up waiting for Qian Heng.

The moment Cheng Yao stepped into the office, she made up her mind to go all in and strike first.

“Boss, I want to be involved in the case we discussed earlier. I don’t need a share of the commission—I just want a chance to learn from you all.”

“Alright.”

Qian Heng sat behind his desk, flipping through a case file without even looking up.

…That’s it?! Where was the pushback she expected? Was it really this easy?

“I-I can really participate?” Cheng Yao was thrilled to finally get some hands-on experience instead of sitting on the sidelines. “Thank you, boss! I knew my efforts would eventually be noticed by you! I’ll work even harder—”

“I really didn’t notice.”

“Eh?”

Qian Heng finally looked up and glanced at Cheng Yao. He spoke slowly and methodically, “I’m letting you participate, but don’t get ahead of yourself. Your foundation is one of the weaker ones in the firm. You have little work experience—just one year of internship at another law firm—and you’ve never independently handled a case before. Just because you read a few case files last night, don’t pat yourself on the back and act like you’ve been working hard, okay?”

As long as she could get involved in a case, Cheng Yao wouldn’t mind if Qian Heng told her to call him “Dad.” A little verbal abuse? No problem at all!

“Alright, you can leave now.”

“Wait, so why did you call me in just now?”

“Oh, just to tell you that you’ll be participating in this case.”

Cheng Yao: !!!

So, even if she hadn’t asked, Qian Heng had already planned to include her in the case? Did that mean—even someone as sharp as him—had immediately recognized her potential? Did he see her as a promising talent?!

“Erase that self-satisfied look from your face,” Qian Heng said flatly. “I’m letting you participate because Bao Rui slipped on his way to work this morning and sprained his leg.”

Even so, Cheng Yao was still excited. “That’s fine! I’m honored to be Bao Rui’s backup!”

“No, Bao Rui hasn’t withdrawn from the case. He just can’t come to the office, but he’ll still be involved via email and phone.”

“So I…”

“So stop overhyping your role. At best, you’re just a car jack.”

“…?”

“Since Bao Rui is injured and can’t go to the Business Administration Bureau to check the company records and shareholder information, you’ll do it for him,” Qian Heng said, crossing his arms. “Also, on behalf of Bao Rui, I’d like to thank you.”

Cheng Yao scratched her head, just about to say that colleagues should help each other out, when she saw Qian Heng flash a sly, fox-like smile—

“Thanks for voluntarily giving up your share of the commission. Now Bao Rui doesn’t have to split his earnings with you.” Qian Heng raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t that what you so confidently declared just now? That you didn’t want a share, as long as you could participate?”

“…”

“So, in accordance with your own strong insistence, it’s settled. You can go now.”

*****

Cheng Yao had been put in her place by Qian Heng, but she was still excited to finally participate in a case. As soon as she returned to her desk and received the case information and materials from Qian Heng, she buried herself in research.

This time, the materials were far more detailed than the brief discussions they’d had before. The client’s name was Li Yan—an ordinary name, one that Cheng Yao didn’t recognize. But Li Yan’s ex-husband? That name was practically legendary—it was none other than Xu Jun, the founder of the well-known literature and video platform, TuanTuan Online.

Cheng Yao had spent plenty of time watching funny videos and reading novels on TuanTuan Online, but her knowledge of Xu Jun wasn’t from finance news—it was from the entertainment section.

He had once been romantically linked to Cheng Yao’s favorite actress, Bai Xingmeng, who played the role of Ling Yao. Their rumored relationship had been all over the tabloids during Bai Xingmeng’s peak rise to fame. At the time, paparazzi frequently caught them together—holding hands while shopping, making pottery side by side, traveling as a couple. Eventually, they both tacitly acknowledged their relationship.

Back then, TuanTuan Online was just a small platform, but this high-profile scandal thrust it into the public eye, earning it significant exposure. However, after six months, their interactions dwindled, and they were rarely seen together. Then, rumors began circulating that Bai Xingmeng was involved with a young idol from a popular boy band, and her connection with Xu Jun gradually faded from public memory.

Cheng Yao printed out all the documents Qian Heng had sent and settled in to read them carefully. As she went through them, she made a shocking discovery—Xu Jun had actually married Li Yan three years ago and had already divorced her over a year ago! Based on the timeline, when he was publicly involved with Bai Xingmeng, he had been married the whole time! He had hidden the truth!

Damn! Scumbag!

As a devoted fan of Bai Xingmeng, Cheng Yao was outraged. Flipping through the case files, she silently vowed—she would do everything she could to help Li Yan, the ex-wife who had been cheated on, get what she rightfully deserved!

But reality was far less forgiving than her ideals.

Even though the marriage had lasted less than a year, the sheer volume of documents related to the case was overwhelming—like a vast ocean threatening to swallow her whole. Between the materials Qian Heng had provided and the investigation Bao Rui had conducted into Xu Jun’s companies, the printed documents spanned over 300 pages—and this was just the preliminary information. The more Cheng Yao read, the more lost she felt.

She had never handled a case with so many factual complexities before. Li Yan wasn’t a legal professional, so the materials she provided were scattered and unfocused. After reading twenty pages, Cheng Yao often found that only one page’s worth of information was actually useful. She felt like she was drowning, desperately searching for something to hold onto. She wanted to do a good job on this case, but sorting through this chaotic mess of information was proving too much for her.

She was simply not skilled enough.

This realization hit Cheng Yao hard. She finally understood why Qian Heng hadn’t let her participate in cases before—she just wasn’t qualified yet.

She had only interned at her previous law firm for a year. Right after passing the bar exam, she jumped ship to Junheng Law Firm, meaning she had zero actual experience as a practicing attorney. Meanwhile, Bao Rui had been working at Junheng for four years already. The gap between them was far greater than Cheng Yao had imagined.

At first, when she received the case materials, she had been full of ambition, determined to prove herself. She even turned down an invitation from colleagues to go out for lunch, insisting that she would finish reviewing the documents first. But now, with a sinking heart, she had no choice but to go out alone in search of food, carrying her frustration with her.

She had always known that the path of a lawyer was never meant to be easy.

After putting in so much effort to pass the bar exam—nicknamed “the world’s toughest test”—and enduring countless hardships, a young lawyer’s starting salary might only be a fraction of what their peers in other industries make.

Most rookie lawyers, during their first few years of practice, survive on a meager base salary of just a few thousand yuan a month. Their earnings from case commissions are unstable, they constantly struggle to secure clients, their workload is intense, there are no clear boundaries between work and personal time, and the psychological pressure is immense. Yet, the legal profession remains a high-risk, high-intensity, and fiercely competitive field.

It’s like a survival game—every new lawyer is thrown into the pit like a venomous insect in a battle to the death. The strong devour the weak. You have to compete not only with other young lawyers who started at the same time as you but also with seasoned veterans who have been practicing for years. Only those who endure endless trials and hardships, with a mind tough enough to withstand the pressure, can truly survive in this industry.

And the cruelest part? Hard work alone doesn’t guarantee success.

Unable to hold it in anymore, Cheng Yao sent a WeChat message to Qin Qin.

“I’m so done! I feel like I’m not going to make it past the one-year curse before switching careers.”

Feeling utterly defeated, she followed up with a string of crying emojis.

Qin Qin was usually swamped with work and, unsurprisingly, didn’t respond right away.

Cheng Yao trudged along dejectedly and walked into a Japanese ramen shop on the ground floor of the office building.

She ordered a bowl of tonkotsu ramen and immediately buried herself in eating.

Since the area was filled with office buildings, there were plenty of white-collar workers around. Even at this hour, the ramen shop was still packed. Fortunately, she was lucky—after waiting for just a minute, a four-person table opened up.

However, she had barely started eating when someone sat down across from her.

Still feeling down, Cheng Yao had no interest in looking up and simply continued slurping her noodles.

“Is it really that good?”

The cold voice startled her. She finally looked up and realized that the person sitting across from her was none other than her difficult-to-please boss, Qian Heng.

He had probably just finished a client meeting and was only now getting lunch.

Faced with his question, Cheng Yao instinctively nodded.

Since they were now eating at the same table, she felt like she should say something to break the awkward silence. But before she could open her mouth, someone called her name.

“Cheng Yao?”

“Huh? Wu Chen?” Cheng Yao looked up and realized it was her high school classmate, Wu Chen.

Wu Chen had also just arrived for lunch. “I was just looking for a seat. Is this spot next to you free? If it is, mind if I join you?”

Cheng Yao nodded, indicating that the seat was available, and Wu Chen sat down. His noodles hadn’t arrived yet, so he was eager to chat.

“I work at Minsheng Bank nearby. What about you?”

“I’m at Junheng Law Firm,” Cheng Yao replied.

Wu Chen’s interest was piqued. “Oh, you’re a lawyer?”

Cheng Yao nodded honestly. “Yeah.”

“Great! Can I ask for your help with something?”

“Huh?”

“It’s about one of the executives at my bank. His mother invested around two million yuan in a P2P financial product, but the company went bankrupt. The executives ran off with the money. When they went back to check the contract, they realized she hadn’t actually signed an investment agreement—it was a health supplement purchase contract. Obviously, they took advantage of an elderly woman who didn’t fully understand the terms! Now, they’re desperate to get the money back. Since you’re a lawyer, can you tell me what legal actions they can take? My boss’s mom is so distressed she ended up in the hospital, and he’s absolutely panicking…”

Faced with the flood of questions, Cheng Yao suddenly felt incredibly awkward.

This was exactly the kind of situation she dreaded.

Outsiders don’t understand how lawyers work. They think that simply summarizing a case in a few words—after it’s already been passed through multiple people—is enough for a lawyer to instantly provide professional advice. What they fail to realize is that lawyers specialize in different fields. Take Cheng Yao, for example—she’s well-versed in marriage and inheritance law, but when it comes to financial fraud, she’s completely out of her depth.

Cheng Yao decided to be honest. “I’m not really familiar with this area… I suggest your boss consult a lawyer who specializes in financial fraud.”

Wu Chen chuckled, as if joking. “Wow, that’s such an ‘official’ answer. I only asked because we’re old classmates and I trust you. Do lawyers really refuse to answer even the simplest questions if there’s no fee involved? It’s just a couple of sentences—just give me some general advice. Come on, don’t be so stingy.”

“What department do you register under if you have stomach problems at the hospital?”

Just as Cheng Yao was debating how to respond, the previously silent Qian Heng lifted his head. His movement was accompanied by his usual icy voice.

“Of course, gastroenterology,” Wu Chen answered instinctively before pausing in surprise. “Wait, who are you?”

Qian Heng’s expression was mocking. “Oh, so you do know that stomach problems should be handled by a gastroenterologist.”

Wu Chen stared at him as if he had just seen a ghost.

“She already told you she doesn’t specialize in financial fraud, yet you’re still pressuring her for legal advice. So tell me, if you had a stomach problem, why don’t you go see a proctologist instead?”

That was brutal. Wu Chen’s face immediately turned red.

Qian Heng rarely intervened, but when he did, he always struck hard. Ignoring Wu Chen’s increasingly pale complexion, he continued, “A proctologist won’t diagnose a gastroenterology patient because they have professional ethics and a duty to their patients. The same applies to different fields of law. Besides, even if you see a proctologist, you’d still have to pay for the consultation. But you? You’re demanding free advice without paying a single cent.” He pointed at Cheng Yao. “What did she do in her past life to owe you anything?”

Wu Chen had no comeback. He stiffened and retorted, “Who even are you? I’m just chatting with my old classmate—why are you butting in?”

“I’m her boss,” Qian Heng replied coldly. “I pay for her time, and I won’t allow her to waste it on people like you.”

For some reason, Cheng Yao nearly held her breath. Her heart pounded violently—not just from nervousness and surprise, but also from a sense of satisfaction.

Since becoming a lawyer, she had encountered countless people like Wu Chen, but she had never had the courage to refuse them as bluntly as Qian Heng just did.

In China, most people are unwilling to pay for intangible services—things like intellectual property or professional consultations from lawyers and accountants. Many don’t recognize the value of these services, thinking that since they know the person, asking for a “quick favor” should be free.

“Free legal advice? You actually have the nerve to ask? Why not just tell Cheng Yao to go live on air and sunshine? If everyone thought like you, the legal profession would be extinct.”

“Besides, her specialty is family law. If you ever need a divorce, you can go to her. As her boss, I’ll even allow her to give you a discount.”

Wu Chen was completely speechless. His noodles hadn’t even arrived yet, but he stiffly made an excuse about an urgent meeting and left in embarrassment.

Author’s Note:

【 Mini Theater 】

Host Afei: Many readers are very curious about your first love. Could you share a bit about your dating history?

Qian Heng: Heh.

Cheng Yao: Hahahahahaha! Do you guys have some kind of misunderstanding about him??? Someone like him finding a partner??? Having a first love???? Are you joking with me?! Hahahaha! Who in their right mind would be his first love? Hahahaha, they must have something seriously wrong with their brain! Hahahaha!

N months later…

Cheng Yao: Hello, everyone. I’m the one with something seriously wrong with my brain. (forced smile)

Qian Heng: Some things are better left unsaid.

Cheng Yao: …Yeah…