CH 34

Ji Yao found it difficult to describe his current mood.

It was as if he was hearing an evaluation of Jiang Heng from someone else’s perspective for the first time. He needed a moment to process and match the image that Wang Tao mentioned with the actual Jiang Heng.

Before this, Jiang Heng’s image in Ji Yao’s mind was almost fixed—his friends in their circle thought he was generous, carefree, and capable; those who had feelings for him found him considerate, gentle, and attentive; as for Ji Yao himself, he had always thought of Jiang Heng as immune to all vices, like a poppy essence, full of mystery and danger, making him want to stay away while inexplicably immersing himself.

Knowing each other for three years and sharing a bed for over two years, Ji Yao believed he understood Jiang Heng better than many people. But now, stepping out of that environment, Ji Yao suddenly realized that Jiang Heng was not exactly what he had imagined.

Ji Yao’s impression of Jiang Heng was that he clearly distinguished between public and private matters, always prioritizing the interests of his clients. As for who was innocent and who was guilty in a case, he didn’t seem to care that much.

Ironically, in the half-month before the trial, Ji Yao had nightmares several times, dreaming of being imprisoned, and then Jiang Heng would come to visit him in the prison, elegantly dressed.

He had prepared himself for a worst-case scenario, but Wang Tao’s casual words had sketched a different image of Jiang Heng.

As these conflicting perceptions emerged, Ji Yao’s confidence in his understanding of Jiang Heng wavered easily.

“Do I really know him?” Ji Yao thought puzzledly, wondering if Jiang Heng had changed over these years or if he had never truly understood Jiang Heng.

In this moment, right now, suddenly, the image of Jiang Heng in his mind miraculously deviated from the “romantic AI,” taking on an entirely new form.

“Xiao Ji.” Wang Tao didn’t notice Ji Yao’s distraction and asked casually, “Where do you live? It’s not a good time for taxis. Shall I drop you off on my way?”

“I’ll be fine if you drop me off at the hospital. My home is near there,” Ji Yao returned to his senses and said, “Wherever you find convenient on your way works for me.”

“Sure, no problem.” Wang Tao gestured for him to get in the car, “Then I’ll drop you off at the entrance of your hospital.”

“Okay.” Ji Yao smiled and said, “Thank you.”

Ji Yao got into the car and absentmindedly took out his phone from his pocket. He had kept his phone turned off for the trial.

He pressed the power button, and the screen lit up with the logo appearing, but the loading progress bar moved slowly. Ji Yao licked his lips and suddenly felt like saying something.

Wang Tao wasn’t the most suitable person to talk to, but Ji Yao couldn’t think of anyone else at the moment.

“Actually, before today, I was quite worried,” Ji Yao spoke slowly, “I didn’t expect the opposing lawyer to help me.”

“Hmm?” Wang Tao detected a strange undertone in his words and gave him an unexpected glance, then smiled, “Do you know Jiang Heng?”

“…Not really,” Ji Yao said, “But I’ve heard from friends. I heard that he has helped a lot of defendants with their lawsuits.”

Wang Tao immediately understood his implication and couldn’t help but laugh.

“You mean you’ve heard that he has defended many criminal suspects?” Wang Tao asked.

Ji Yao nodded.

“Understandable. Outsiders sometimes think that way.” Wang Tao turned the steering wheel and merged into traffic. “The general public might think that defending heinous criminals is equivalent to helping them escape justice. But in reality, the law has its own rules. While the victims deserve justice through the law, the criminals also deserve fairness under the law.”

“In some cases, the actual charges against the suspects might be much lower than the public opinion and moral influence,” Wang Tao explained. Most defendants have done wrong, but not everyone deserves the death penalty. In such cases, defense attorneys have to be more cautious, because they become the last straw for these criminals to grasp onto fairness. If you don’t give it your all, they’re doomed.”

Wang Tao joked, “For example, if a murderer is sent to your hospital, you have to cure him before sending him to the police station.”

“…Makes sense,” Ji Yao said.

As they spoke, his phone finished booting up, and several pop-up windows appeared on the screen, along with two missed calls.

He Qiangyin couldn’t stay idle and had sent several WeChat messages asking about the trial’s outcome.

Ji Yao replied with a single word, “Won,” and briefly described the trial’s situation.

“That’s good.” He Qiangyin responded with an emoji of a white dog holding a knife, saying, “Seems like Brother Former Husband is not bad.”

“Sometimes the law has its loopholes, so balancing within these loopholes to achieve both morality and legality is an art,” Wang Tao said, “For example, your situation with Liu Qiang, from our perspective, he did well.”

Wang Tao’s words overlapped with the new messages popping up in the WeChat conversation window. The colorful lights of the street shone through the car window, casting a glow on Ji Yao’s slender shoulders.

The WeChat conversation window kept displaying new messages. He Qiangyin was joyfully suggesting they get rid of bad luck and asking if he wanted to try an immersive spa experience.

But Ji Yao held his phone and suddenly felt an impulse.

He really wanted to ask Jiang Heng if he truly intended to help him.

Deepening this question seemed somewhat pointless. The trial had ended, and whether the answer was yes or no, it didn’t really matter to Ji Yao.

However, he simply felt that if he didn’t ask this question, he wouldn’t be able to sleep well at night.

“Lawyer Wang—” Ji Yao directly replied with a “maybe another time” to He Qiangyin, then said to Wang Tao, “Could you drop me off at the subway station up ahead, please?”

“Huh?” Wang Tao was surprised, wondering, “Aren’t you going to the hospital?”

“No.” Ji Yao said, “I suddenly remembered something I need to take care of elsewhere.”

The One bar was located in the old city area of Shanghai. Despite its bar sign, the interior was plain and concealed within a labyrinthine alley. Even with navigation, outsiders had trouble finding it, and its size was less than sixty square meters.

In the dim lighting, there were only a few customers in the bar, and the music playing was not the lively rock music you’d expect, but rather obscure Italian ballads.

Jiang Heng sat by the bar, his coat hanging on the back of the chair. He had already finished half of his cocktail.

The bar owner sat behind the bar, playing a mobile game while glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

“Why do you look so pale?” he said, “You look like a ghost under the lights.”

“Staying up late working on a case these past few days,” Jiang Heng said, “A little vitamin C will fix that.”

The case involving Liu Qiang had just started, and the investigation into Zhou Fang’s case was ongoing. The trial work was temporarily finished for Jiang Heng, giving him a bit of breathing room.

After the trial ended, he had accompanied Li Nan in sending Li Linghua home, comforted her for a while, then left and went out. Now, he was planning to have a few drinks before heading home to get a good night’s sleep.

“Don’t work so hard, money isn’t everything,” the bar owner said, “Hey, Ge Xing wanted me to ask you if you want to go to Beijing for Christmas. He’ll treat you, and it can also serve as a birthday celebration for you.”

The bar owner was a “success story” of Ge Hongniang’s matchmaking, and he had also been an acquaintance of Jiang Heng. Through Ge Xing, he had gotten to know a painter on this side of Shanghai, and things had gone well, so he decided to settle down here and open a not-too-big, not-too-small bar.

Jiang Heng hadn’t seen him in almost three years and was here for the first time.

“I’m not going,” Jiang Heng smiled and said, “The cases haven’t finished yet.”

“Okay then.” The bar owner responded half-heartedly, tapping a couple of times on his phone screen, “I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to have a meal with old friends again.”

“Next time.” Jiang Heng said, “I’ll treat you after I’m finished with work.”

Before his words settled, his phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket. Jiang Heng looked at the incoming call display, his expression turning slightly unnatural.

He gestured to the bar owner with an apologetic smile and went out with his phone.

The bar owner craned his neck to watch him for a while, then lowered his head back to his mobile game, continuing to play. After a dozen rounds, Jiang Heng returned from outside.

He didn’t know whose call he had answered, but his mood seemed a bit more complicated than before. Sitting back at the bar counter, he didn’t say anything, just tapped the counter with his finger.

“Whiskey.” Jiang Heng said, “With half the base alcohol, make it a Tequila Sunrise.”

“Huh?” The bar owner raised an eyebrow in surprise, bending over to retrieve an ice chisel from under the bar, “Do you have time to wait? What are you so happy about?”

“Of course.” Jiang Heng curled his lips into a smile and said, “I heard good news, why wouldn’t I be happy?”

Jiang Heng spoke and finished the last of his drink in one gulp, then pushed the glass toward the bar owner. After that, he clicked open the conversation with Gao Jingyi and sent him several year-end summary files.

The bar owner glanced at him while chiseling ice, noticing how quickly he switched between different screens, and he had no idea what he was busy with.

After arranging his year-end work and confirming a time with the cleaning lady, the whiskey with an added ice ball was ready. But before he could reach out and take the glass, a hand suddenly appeared beside him, covering the mouth of the glass.

Jiang Heng raised his head in confusion, freezing when he realized who it was.

“Change it.” Ji Yao didn’t look at him, he just said to the bar owner, “A glass of Tequila Sunrise, but reduce the base alcohol by half.”