Chapter 50: “Cheng Yao, what dirty things are you thinking about all day long?”

After finishing their meal, Cheng Yao was ready to check out the part of the carnival she had been most looking forward to—the Ocean Ferris Wheel!

The Ferris wheel was the main attraction promoted for this carnival, featuring fully transparent, 360-degree panoramic cabins that offered a bird’s-eye view of the entire seaside city of B.

As expected, this signature ride was incredibly popular. The line was packed with people, and Cheng Yao dragged Qian Heng to the very end of it.

“You actually like this kind of ride?” Qian Heng looked at the long line, his expression full of disbelief and confusion. “You’re willing to wait in line this long just to go up and spin around once? It’s so boring. It’s not as expensive as I am, but you’re a lawyer—your time really means that little to you?”

“But isn’t it true that in life, we spend a lot of our time just idling anyway?” Cheng Yao wasn’t having it. “Who can guarantee they’re making money every single minute? Besides, many of the happiest moments in life are born from doing nothing at all. Think about it—just this past week—what moment stands out the most in your memory? Was it during work when you were earning money?”

Faced with this question, Qian Heng froze for a second. He subconsciously thought about it seriously and realized… the moments that had left the deepest impression on him this week weren’t from work at all.

They were… just a bunch of seemingly meaningless, fleeting moments.

Like the way Cheng Yao’s eyes lit up when she saw the giant Pikachu… the anger on her face when Tang Bing harassed her… the way she looked at him with teary-eyed gratitude… and right now, at this very moment, the way her big, round black eyes were looking up at him so earnestly…

Qian Heng looked at Cheng Yao as if he’d seen a ghost. He figured the sea breeze must have messed with his brain.

Completely unaware of his inner turmoil, Cheng Yao glanced at the line and exclaimed, “Hey, hey! We’re almost up next!”

***

Cheng Yao almost couldn’t wait as she slipped into the fully transparent Ferris wheel cabin. Although Qian Heng looked entirely reluctant, he still ended up entering the cabin with his oversized Pikachu in tow.

As the Ferris wheel slowly rose, Cheng Yao practically pressed herself against the transparent wall. It was her first time seeing the sea from this angle, and her delight was written all over her face.

She looked outside, then turned to Qian Heng, eyes sparkling with excitement. “This is actually my first time on a Ferris wheel!”

Seriously… she hadn’t even been on a Ferris wheel before? Qian Heng actually felt a bit sorry for her. “What were you doing before you started working? Never been to an amusement park?”

“I was studying hard,” Cheng Yao said with a smile. “You know my sister, Cheng Xi, right? She always had excellent grades. I wasn’t as smart as her—my scores were always just above average. My parents always used her as the benchmark and thought I wasn’t doing well enough, so before I reached her level, I wasn’t allowed to go out and play.”

Though Cheng Yao’s tone was light and cheerful, and she didn’t sound resentful toward her parents or Cheng Xi, Qian Heng somehow felt that she must’ve been hurt before.

Having a sister who was always better at everything, and parents who constantly compared the two… Cheng Yao’s teenage years were probably not so carefree and happy.

Thinking that way, it suddenly made sense why Cheng Yao was so excited about something as modest as this carnival.

“We’ll do our next firm retreat in Osaka.”

Cheng Yao was caught off guard by the sudden change of topic. “Huh?”

Qian Heng pressed his lips together and looked away toward the ocean outside the transparent cabin. “There’s a Universal Studios in Osaka.”

“Mm?”

“Universal Studios is more fun than this carnival,” Qian Heng paused before adding, “much more fun.”

Cheng Yao’s eyes lit up the moment she heard it was more fun than the carnival. “Really?! The next retreat! I heard from Bao Rui that the firm retreat is usually in May, but I missed it this year since I joined after that. So that means I’ll have to wait till next year?”

Qian Heng covered his mouth with a hand and gave a light cough. “Revenue’s been good this year. I’m considering adding another retreat.”

If they weren’t inside a Ferris wheel, Cheng Yao would’ve jumped for joy. What kind of amazing law firm was this?! Revenue was good, so now they could have two retreats a year? And even go overseas?

But then Cheng Yao remembered something. “But Boss, you said Universal Studios in Osaka is fun—because you’ve been there before, right? If you’ve already been, wouldn’t going again for a firm retreat be kind of boring? We could choose somewhere else, it’s fine.” She looked a little embarrassed. “You don’t have to go just because I haven’t seen much of the world.”

“You’re overthinking it,” Qian Heng said coolly, still looking out at the ocean. “It’s because Bao Rui’s been talking about going for years. This year his performance was pretty good, so I figured it’s time to reward him.”

That explanation settled Cheng Yao’s worries.

As the son of the richest man, Qian Heng had probably been traveling internationally since other kids were still doing local field trips. The fact that he had been to Universal Studios in Osaka wasn’t surprising. What would be surprising was if there were places he hadn’t been to. But since senior employee Bao Rui hadn’t been there, and he was a key figure in the Five Poisons Cult* (in-joke reference), the Osaka destination made perfect sense.

(*Note: Refers humorously to the firm’s internal hierarchy or fandom dynamics.)

Although Qian Heng had only said he was “considering” adding another retreat, Cheng Yao was already buzzing with excitement, chattering non-stop about Japan—whether it was really that clean, if people really queued up for everything, how delicious wagashi were, whether there were a lot of Michelin restaurants, which sights were fun, whether the deer in Nara were really that cute, and even whether host clubs in Japan were super expensive…

She asked so many questions, Qian Heng eventually frowned.

“Cheng Yao, ask one more thing and I’ll dock your salary,” he said coldly, casting her a glance to signal for silence.

Cheng Yao shut up obediently. As her initial excitement cooled slightly, she looked outside the cabin—and only then realized the Ferris wheel was already halfway up. It was also at this moment that a wave of dizziness hit her…

The higher the transparent cabin rose, the stronger her sense of nausea and vertigo became. While the glass panels gave a great view of the ocean, they also delivered a stark, inescapable sense of being in the air.

Cheng Yao had been in high-rise buildings before, but she had never deliberately stood at the window and looked down. So she had never realized that being up this high would trigger such a strong adverse reaction in her.

The Ferris wheel was moving slowly, but steadily gaining height. Cheng Yao didn’t dare to look outside anymore, but the glimpse she’d already caught still made her feel suffocated. It was like standing at the edge of a cliff, always on the verge of falling into an abyss.

Before getting on so cheerfully, Cheng Yao never imagined she had a fear of heights.

But now it was too late. She was already on, and no matter what, she had to wait for the full rotation before getting off.

She had always imagined that riding a Ferris wheel would be a peaceful, scenic experience. Instead, every second now felt like torture.

Even though she tried hard to distract herself—avoiding looking out or down at the shrunken buildings—she was still scared. She instinctively clutched the hem of her dress, her expression full of fear, like she was bracing for a battle.

Every minute in the cabin felt excruciatingly long.

Meanwhile, Qian Heng had received a call from a client. Because the signal inside the Ferris wheel was weak, he had to get up and stand next to Cheng Yao to take the call.

At this point, Cheng Yao didn’t even have the bandwidth to notice what Qian Heng was doing. She was too busy giving herself mental pep talks. She wanted to close her eyes but was worried it would be rude with her boss around.

Just as she was battling dizziness and inner conflict, a voice came from behind her.

“Close your eyes.”

“Huh?”

Qian Heng frowned as he glanced at Cheng Yao’s pale face, and this time, gave a direct order. “Close them.”

This time, Cheng Yao finally obeyed. She closed her eyes—but her awareness of being high in the sky, and the terrifying image that had already burned into her mind, still lingered heavily in her heart.

“In Japan, for regular travel, people usually pick between two main regions—Kanto or Kansai. Personally, I prefer Kansai, because cities like Kyoto, Osaka, Kobe, and Nara—all with that classic, traditional Japanese charm—are located in the Kansai area.”

“Kyoto is a city I really like. It has that quiet, old-world atmosphere, and you don’t even need to visit the tourist spots. Just walking along the streets, you’ll come across many small shrines. Even just seeing them from the outside evokes a sense of deep, poetic mood. Of course, you can’t just go walking into them. A lot of locals hold weddings or ceremonies at those small shrines, and barging in without knowing the context would be pretty disrespectful.”

Qian Heng’s voice remained as cold and aloof as ever while he said all this—completely unlike someone sharing or chatting casually. It felt more like a formal lecture. Yet for some reason, Cheng Yao found his voice oddly warm.

Just moments ago, he had scoffed at her questions, clearly dismissive. But now, here he was, explaining everything in such detail.

“Japan—especially Kyoto—has a ton of Michelin restaurants. Most of the three-star and even two-star ones are extremely popular. You often have to book three months in advance just to get a seat. If you’re visiting Japan, kaiseki cuisine is definitely something worth trying. And Kobe beef… it really lives up to the hype.”

Because of his ongoing commentary, Cheng Yao’s earlier anxiety about her fear of heights was gradually and gently diluted.

“The deer in Nara are quite friendly, but the moment you’re holding those deer crackers, they can get aggressive. You need to feed them properly first. The best time to visit Nara is during cherry blossom season. When the sakura blooms, the paths beside Kasuga Shrine are covered with blossoms that look like clouds and mist…”

…

Even with her eyes closed—and even though Qian Heng didn’t use many flowery descriptions—his brief, concise style painted a surprisingly vivid image. Somehow, with just a few simple lines, Cheng Yao could already picture cherry blossoms blanketing the road ahead. She forgot she was in a Ferris wheel high above the ground; her mind had wandered completely into the springtime landscapes of Japan through Qian Heng’s words.

She had to admit—Qian Heng had an exceptional memory. She’d tossed a bunch of random questions at him earlier, but he had remembered every single one and was now addressing them one by one in the same order.

Just like when he answered legal consultations from clients, he tackled her barrage of Japan-related questions—however childish—with fluent, uninterrupted efficiency.

Until he suddenly hit a snag.

“As for Japanese hosts …” Qian Heng trailed off. Then Cheng Yao heard him raise his voice slightly, as if interrogating her. “Cheng Yao, what kind of filthy things do you think about all day?!”

“I—No! I wasn’t thinking anything like that!” Cheng Yao hurried to explain. “People say a lot of Japanese hosts just perform and don’t actually… sell themselves. I was just curious if you knew anything. I mean, you seem to know everything…”

“How would I know?!” Qian Heng huffed, clearly annoyed. “I’m a man of impeccable character—why would I know the going rates for hosts?!”

“I tell you to drive the Bentley and you crawl at 10 mph, but your brain sure runs fast, huh? Hosts? What, you think if you find out they’re cheap, you’ll go check them out yourself?” He gave a cold snort. “Young people these days, seriously. Don’t fill your head with unhealthy thoughts. If we go to Japan for a company trip and I catch you wandering into one of those red-light districts, you’re done for.”

“…”

And just like that, thanks to the topic’s sudden detour, Qian Heng spent the next ten minutes giving Cheng Yao a full-on mental health education lecture.

“All right. When we get back, I want a written reflection from you.”

With that, the domineering boss Qian Heng delivered his verdict, concise and final.

Just as Cheng Yao was grumbling internally, Qian Heng’s cold voice sounded again.

“You can open your eyes now.”

Cheng Yao opened her eyes—only to realize the Ferris wheel had already returned to the ground. Unknowingly, she had made it through the whole rotation. What she thought would be a torturous, nerve-wracking experience because of her fear of heights had ended up passing peacefully, her attention entirely drawn to Qian Heng’s words.

Now she could finally see the expression on her boss’s face.

Qian Heng had his lips pursed, his well-shaped brows slightly furrowed as he looked back at her.

Because of work, he often had to face clients’ consultations or refute the arguments of opposing counsel in court, constantly explaining legal matters. That meant that outside of work, he strongly disliked any kind of “educational” explanations. After all, doing the same thing both on and off the clock is bound to wear anyone out.

Qian Heng didn’t really understand why he’d gone on for so long about Japan and its sights while in the Ferris wheel. After thinking about it, he figured—maybe he actually did want to visit Japan himself.

Hmm. Then let’s schedule another company trip to Japan.

Having made such a cheerful decision, Qian Heng, still holding an oversized Pikachu, walked off calmly and coolly—leaving Cheng Yao utterly dumbfounded.