Chapter 30: I, Cheng Yao, signed up to compete for the position of guardian of the Five Poison Sect!

As soon as she sent off Dong Min, Cheng Yao immediately called Dong Shan.

There was a shareholders’ meeting at Dong Shan’s company, but Cheng Yao didn’t mind. “I’ll wait for you at the company. We can have a quick chat after the meeting.”

She patiently waited in Zhenwei Catering Group for an hour before finally getting to meet Dong Shan.

“Lawyer Cheng, didn’t we just meet? Why do you need to see me again?”

Although Dong Shan’s tone remained polite, there was an undercurrent of impatience.

Cheng Yao silently reminded herself to be more thorough next time, ensuring all matters were discussed in a single meeting. A lawyer’s time was valuable, but so was the client’s. No one wanted to go back and forth multiple times just for a pre-litigation consultation—it was not only troublesome but also made the lawyer seem careless and unprofessional.

“Mr. Dong, I want to confirm one more thing. If Ms. Jiang is willing to raise the child, will you withdraw the divorce lawsuit?”

“Haven’t I already answered that?”

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“R dlle vs blya uswa vawl alprsdpl.” Wynkdt Psdt Fbyd’p alvsav, Ubldt Zys alxykdle qkax. “R yx uswa zyoula. Zsw esd’v byhl vs osaau ycswv bso R xktbv fwetl uswa elnkpksd. Yu sdzu nsdnlad kp lhyzwyvkdt kv qasx y zltyz rlaprlnvkhl yde rasvlnvkdt uswa zltkvkxyvl aktbvp.”

Psdt Fbyd pvyavle vs lhyel vbl iwlpvksd. “Tsdlpvzu, uswa iwlpvksd eslpd’v xlyd xwnb. R jdso Eldmkw—pbl oswze dlhla ytall vs aykpl vbl nbkze. Fbl osd’v ytall vs y plvvzlxldv. Rd vbl lde, ol okzz pvkzz tlv ekhsanle. Fbl’p vbl vurl obs nyd’v vszlayvl lhld y taykd sq pyde kd bla lulp. Fbl’p pvwccsad yde oswze dlhla ytall vs aykpl y nbkze vbyv R bye okvb psxlsdl lzpl…”

“Jwv obyv kq pbl kp okzzkdt?” Ubldt Zys qkmle bla tygl sd Psdt Fbyd. “Zsw jdso bso ekqqknwzv kv kp vs tlv y ekhsanl dsoyeyup. Rq sdl ryavu alqwplp vs ekhsanl yde vblal yal ds lmvalxl nkanwxpvydnlp zkjl tyxczkdt sa eawt yeeknvksd, vbl qkapv vakyz okzz vurknyzzu awzl vbyv vbl xyaakytl byp dsv kaalvaklhyczu casjld esod yde eldu vbl ekhsanl aliwlpv. Xdnl vbyv byrrldp, wdzlpp dlo nkanwxpvydnlp yakpl, usw osd’v cl yczl vs qkzl qsa ekhsanl ytykd qsa ydsvbla pkm xsdvbp.”

Vywpkdt qsa y xsxldv, pbl nsdvkdwle, “Jlpkelp, tkhld vbl nwaaldv zltyz yrrasynb, qyxkzu nswav fwetlp raksakvkgl xlekyvksd yde alnsdnkzkyvksd. Rd uswa nypl, usw yde Yp. Kkydt byhl yd lxsvksdyz qswdeyvksd. Rq pbl’p okzzkdt vs nsxrasxkpl yde vyjl kd vbl nbkze, yde vbl qszzso-wr zltyz rasnlewalp nyd cl tayewyzzu bydezle—oswze usw pvkzz kdpkpv sd tlvvkdt y ekhsanl?”

Psdt Fbyd’p tygl oyhlale pzktbvzu.

“Gp uswa zltyz alralpldvyvkhl, R dlle vs wdelapvyde uswa pvydnl kd saela vs osaj vsoyae uswa tsyzp ewakdt ral-vakyz xlekyvksd. Rq usw okpb vs alnsdnkzl, ol okzz osaj kd vbyv ekalnvksd yde nsxxwdknyvl ynnsaekdtzu okvb Yp. Kkydt. Jwv kq usw yal elvlaxkdle vs ekhsanl, vbld swa pvayvltu okzz cl ldvkalzu ekqqlaldv,” Ubldt Zys twkele ryvkldvzu. “Gp uswa yvvsadlu, xu kdvlalpvp yzktd okvb uswap. R bsrl usw nyd vawpv xl.”

“Xdzu vbaswtb bsdlpv nsxxwdknyvksd nyd R blzr usw ynbklhl vbl swvnsxl usw vawzu elpkal. Wsa lmyxrzl, kq usw yal plv sd tlvvkdt y ekhsanl, R okzz es xu wvxspv vs qkapv dltsvkyvl okvb Yp. Kkydt Eldmkw clqsal zkvktyvksd vs lmrzsal vbl rsppkckzkvu sq yd yxknyczl ekhsanl. Rq yd ytallxldv nyd cl alynble, ol nyd okvbeayo vbl zyopwkv, yde usw vos nyd rasnlle okvb y xwvwyz ekhsanl, obkzl ol ldpwal y qyka plvvzlxldv ytallxldv. Rq yd yxknyczl ekhsanl kpd’v rsppkczl, vbld ol okzz qszzso vbl zkvktyvksd rasnlpp yde pvakhl vs plnwal y ekhsanl awzkdt kd vbl qkapv vakyz. Gqvla vbyv, ol okzz osaj sd rlapwyekdt Yp. Kkydt Eldmkw vs ynnlrv vbl awzkdt yde qsats yd yrrlyz.”

Tla osaep olal zstknyz yde cyzydnle—dlkvbla plahkzl dsa shlaclyakdt.

Dong Shan was silent for a moment, deep in thought, before finally sighing. “I want a divorce.”

At last, he spoke the truth.

“I know you probably look down on me,” he admitted, “but the fact is, I no longer have feelings for Wenxiu. We’ve supported each other for decades, and I’m not ungrateful—I understand gratitude and obligation. But gratitude and obligation aren’t love. What remains between Wenxiu and me is merely familial affection. Living with her feels like one hand touching the other. There’s no passion anymore, just an endless cycle of dull days.”

He gazed out the window. “If I hadn’t met Xiaomei, I might have just continued living like this. Life, though mundane, wasn’t bad—I had wealth, a daughter, and good health. There was nothing to complain about.”

Cheng Yao listened silently as he laid bare his heart.

“But after meeting Xiaomei, I realized that life could be different. That I could still live with excitement and joy. With her, we don’t just talk about mundane things like daily meals or drinking enough water—we discuss our interests, surfing, traveling, astrology. We can talk all night without feeling tired. I’m fifty-three years old, but with Xiaomei, I feel twenty years younger. Every day, I wake up looking forward to tomorrow, brimming with energy. She has brought back my youth—she’s like my sun.”

His previously hesitant and conflicted tone brightened at the mention of Xiaomei, his eyes glowing with enthusiasm, his words nearly overflowing.

An older man finding love again—the flames of passion reigniting, burning ever stronger—an all-too-common story, like something straight out of a textbook.

But had Dong Shan ever thought about this? The wife who now seemed dull and uninteresting was once a young girl who watched the stars and moon with him, full of youthful dreams. She had endured hardships alongside him to build their life together.

When young Xiaomei met Dong Shan, he was already wealthy and successful. But when young Jiang Wenxiu met him, he had been just a penniless, inexperienced boy.

Aging is inevitable. Yet when one partner in a marriage desperately tries to recapture the past, chasing after the illusion of youth, there is no way for them to grow old together.

“Then we had a child—a boy. I love Xiaomei, and I need a son to inherit my legacy. So no matter what, I must give Xiaomei and our unborn child a warm home,” Dong Shan continued, completely blind to his own situation. His voice carried undisguised longing and excitement. “Even if I leave with nothing, I need to finalize this divorce quickly, before the baby is born, so I can make a promise to Xiaomei and give her a proper wedding.”

At this, Cheng Yao could no longer hold back. “You say you’re willing to compensate Ms. Jiang in any way, even leave with nothing, to get this divorce. But have you ever considered—does Xiaomei feel the same way? Would she be willing to see you walk away with nothing?”

Dong Shan was momentarily stunned, catching the implication behind her words. He almost instinctively denied it. “Xiaomei isn’t that kind of person. She’s the purest girl I’ve ever met. When we first met, she had no idea who I was or what I did. She didn’t choose to be with me for my money. Our love was simple and sincere. I never expected to find such a pure love at my age. She just wants to be with me—whether I have money or not, she wouldn’t care. At worst, I’ll start over for the sake of our son. I’ve built a business from nothing before—I can do it again. I know she will support me.”

A man in love—no matter his age—is always blind, overconfident, and naïve.

No matter how many billions he owns, how decisive he is in business, or how wise he is in his field, when it comes to love and desire, he is just another ordinary man.

It was harsh, but it was the truth.

“I understand your request. We will do our best to help you divorce Ms. Jiang as soon as possible, and we will also explore a settlement with her—one that includes a financial arrangement she finds acceptable, to facilitate an amicable divorce.”

Only then did Dong Shan exhale in relief. This time, there was a hint of genuine recognition and trust in his expression. “Thank you, Lawyer Cheng.”

**

On the way back to Junheng, Cheng Yao finally felt like she could catch her breath, but she still didn’t dare to fully relax.

It was only at this moment that she truly understood what Qian Heng had meant with his earlier remark.

At first, Cheng Yao had assumed that Qian Heng was looking down on her, thinking that she couldn’t even handle a simple case like Dong Shan’s. But now she realized that his words had been a sincere piece of advice.

Cases could be simple or complex, but a simple case didn’t mean there were no pitfalls. At any time, a lawyer must never underestimate a case.

Between a lawyer and a client, a short-lived yet deeply intertwined relationship was formed through the attorney-client agreement. However, in such a short time, getting a client to fully open up and reveal their true thoughts—including the ugly and selfish ones—was never an easy task.

People have a natural tendency to present themselves in a better light. Even if Dong Shan knew deep down that he was in the wrong, when he spoke, his words and descriptions instinctively leaned toward self-justification. He unconsciously tried to absolve himself of responsibility, hoping to gain others’ understanding or even sympathy. Over time, this kind of thinking twisted reality, allowing him to convince himself that he hadn’t really done anything wrong—or at least, not something that was entirely his fault.

What’s more, someone like Dong Shan, who wasn’t well-versed in law, probably believed that slightly blurring or embellishing the facts wouldn’t affect the lawyer’s work. Yet, in many cases, the outcome hinged precisely on these details that clients deemed unimportant.

That was why being a lawyer required relentless scrutiny—never taking a client’s words at face value, confirming the facts repeatedly, and even independently verifying them from multiple sources. More importantly, a lawyer had to dig deeper into what the client hadn’t said, uncovering any crucial yet overlooked details.

Clients weren’t legal professionals. They didn’t know which details were critical and which weren’t. But gathering all these details and pinpointing the key ones—that was the very reason they hired a lawyer. It was also what defined a lawyer’s value.

This was a simple case, yet it had taught Cheng Yao a profound lesson.

Sitting on the subway back to the firm, she couldn’t help but question herself:

If Qian Heng had been the one handling the initial discussion with Dong Shan, would Dong Shan have laid everything out honestly from the start?

Qian Heng was aloof and never cared for pleasantries with clients, yet his formidable expertise and commanding presence naturally inspired trust.

That was why, although Bai Xingmeng hadn’t shared much about her marriage, she had been clear about her goal—giving Xu Jun the illusion of a possible reconciliation, while actually dragging out the litigation to tank his company’s stock.

Meanwhile, when Dong Shan spoke to Cheng Yao, he hadn’t revealed his true intentions at first.

If she hadn’t later uncovered the truth, then what would have happened when the judge initiated pre-trial mediation? She might have assumed that Dong Shan still had feelings for Jiang Wenxiu as long as he could acknowledge their son, and she could have worked toward reconciliation instead of divorce—completely contradicting Dong Shan’s true desires.

This one tiny detail alone made Cheng Yao realize how far she still was from Qian Heng’s level.

Feeling frustrated at her lack of an authoritative aura that could earn immediate client trust, she quickly shook off the negative thoughts.

After all, wasn’t every young lawyer trained by handling the simplest of cases? Only by accumulating experience through one case after another could one develop the ability to sift through complex disputes, extract the most crucial facts, and become a well-respected attorney in the field.

She finally let go of her previous prejudices.

Big case or small case—it didn’t matter. They were all equally important.

No matter how straightforward or seemingly unchallenging a case was, she had to approach it with the same dedication as if it were a high-stakes trial!

Cheng Yao gave herself a pep talk. In all the classic wuxia novels, weren’t the protagonists always the underdogs, sweeping floors at first before rising to the top?

Since she had already joined the “Five Poisons Sect” that was Qian Heng’s law firm, she had to at least work her way up to becoming one of his trusted left or right-hand guardians!