Cheng Yao awkwardly walked over and handed the documents to Bai Xingmeng. She was so shocked that she completely forgot how to even express her shock.
It wasn’t until Qian Heng’s voice pulled her back to reality.
“Based on the materials and recordings you provided, there are a few details I need to confirm with you.”
“Your ex-husband, Xu Jun, returned to China and founded Junchi Films on March 18, 2017, but the two of you didn’t officially register your marriage with the domestic civil affairs department until April 5, 2017.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Mm, then Junchi Films would be considered Xu Jun’s pre-marital asset.”
“But we registered our marriage in Las Vegas on March 2, 2017! Junchi was a wedding gift from Xu Jun to celebrate our marriage,” Bai Xingmeng said in confusion. “For marriages registered abroad, as long as they comply with the Marriage Law—both parties being single, of legal age, and without any prohibited conditions—the state should recognize them, right? Besides, we even held a secret wedding in Las Vegas. No one in China knew, but I have video footage and all the documents, which I’ve already provided to you.”
Qian Heng chuckled, “Just because you registered a marriage abroad doesn’t mean it’s automatically valid under the Marriage Law. To make a foreign marriage legally recognized in China, you need a certificate from the local government, then get it authenticated by the Secretary of State, followed by authentication at the Chinese embassy or consulate in that country. Only after these steps is it legally valid. You two only registered in Las Vegas, and even if you held a wedding ceremony, without certification, it’s not recognized domestically.”
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“Yx.”
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…
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Tsolhla, Ckyd Tldt alxykdle wvvlazu wdxshle. Ekvb y pvsdu qynl yde y awvbzlpp elxlydsa, bl ycawrvzu nwv sqq Jyk Dkdtxldt’p alxkdkpnkdt.
“Ps usw dlle xl vs alxkde usw sq xu bswazu ayvl?”
“…”
Bai Xingmeng froze, while her manager instinctively responded, “It’s fine, we’ll pay for all this time.”
“Money has a price. My time is priceless.”
Qian Heng’s voice was ice-cold. “Feelings are the most useless thing. Xu Jun deceived you, but condemning him on moral grounds is meaningless. Even if you gain everyone’s sympathy, it won’t change the facts.”
Cheng Yao shivered. Her boss was beyond saving—his level of terminal-stage toxic masculinity was off the charts. Bai Xingmeng, a stunning beauty, was practically crying in front of him, yet not only was he unfazed, but he even scolded her…
“Right now, what I need is for you to focus on the case, extract useful information, and give us a clear direction to investigate his hidden assets.” Qian Heng’s posture was cool and aloof, but every word he spoke was logical, leaving Cheng Yao with no grounds to argue.
“I know you’re unwilling to let this go. You want him to pay the price. If what he cares about most is his career, his money, and his company, then we’ll make sure he suffers a financial bloodbath.”
It was as if Qian Heng’s words snapped Bai Xingmeng out of her daze. She nodded, finally shedding her self-pitying demeanor and focusing fully on answering Qian Heng’s questions.
****
A one-hour meeting, and not a single moment of idle chatter in the second half.
Qian Heng took out the list of prepared questions that Bao Rui had compiled for him in advance and meticulously sorted through every financial detail involved in the marriage. Cheng Yao barely had time to keep up, furiously jotting down notes in her notebook.
She had to admit—despite Qian Heng’s usual insufferable personality, the moment he switched into work mode, his professionalism was borderline flawless.
Even as a top-tier celebrity used to being pampered by millions, Bai Xingmeng didn’t seem upset even after being reprimanded by Qian Heng. In fact, by the end of the meeting, she even instructed her manager to negotiate a long-term legal advisory contract with him.
Cheng Yao was stunned. “Does Bai Xingmeng have masochistic tendencies? I thought after the way you spoke to her just now, she’d drop us and switch lawyers! I mean, she’s a superstar who’s been adored by the masses her whole life!”
Qian Heng glanced at her arrogantly. “When you become irreplaceable in your field, no matter how bad your attitude is, as long as your professional skills are unmatched, it’s others who have to adapt to you.”
…So you do know your attitude sucks. Cheng Yao felt strangely comforted—it seemed Qian Heng at least had some level of self-awareness.
“But honestly, the way you naturally pulled her out of her self-pity just now was pretty clever,” she admitted.
Qian Heng raised an eyebrow. “When did I ‘pull her out’ of anything?”
“You basically lectured her about not dwelling on failed relationships and focusing on gathering more useful information so we could fight for a bigger share of her assets!”
Qian Heng shot Cheng Yao a baffled look. “You’re overthinking it. I only did that for myself.”
Cheng Yao: ?
“I signed a contingency fee agreement with her. The outcome of this case directly affects my earnings.” Qian Heng pressed his lips together. “I only care about my own money—I couldn’t care less whether she pulls herself together, spirals into despair, jumps into a river, or slits her wrists. Got it?”
“…”
“Stay far away from your clients. Stay close to the case. You’ll eventually realize—it’s better for both your clients and yourself.”
“…So, what’s the contingency fee percentage?”
“For any recovered assets up to 50 million yuan, the lawyer’s fee is 12%. For anything beyond 50 million, it’s 20%.”
A contingency fee agreement means the lawyer doesn’t charge a fixed retainer but instead takes a percentage of the total assets recovered for the client. To mitigate risk, lawyers may opt for partial contingency agreements, where the client pays a base fee upfront, with additional fees charged based on the final settlement.
This model maximizes the lawyer’s incentive—the larger the settlement they secure, the more they earn. But if they lose the case or fail to recover assets, they walk away with nothing.
That’s why it’s called a risk-based agreement.
“Wait a minute!” Cheng Yao suddenly remembered something. “Isn’t contingency fee representation prohibited in marriage cases because they involve personal relationships? I even saw cases where clients sued their lawyers, claiming the contingency agreement was invalid…”
“It’s allowed when dividing assets after divorce.” Qian Heng glanced at Cheng Yao dismissively. “The original reason for prohibiting contingency fees in marriage cases was to prevent lawyers from prioritizing profit over reconciliation—meaning, lawyers might push for greater asset division to secure higher fees, which could become an obstacle to the couple making amends.” He pressed his lips together. “But in Li Yan’s case, the couple’s relationship has already completely broken down. They’ve divorced, and only afterward did she realize the possibility of hidden assets. There’s no chance of reconciliation anymore. The dispute is purely about asset division, with no personal relationship factors involved. Since gathering evidence and enforcing asset recovery is highly complex and requires extensive legal work, a contingency fee model—agreed upon by both parties—is reasonable.”
Cheng Yao suddenly understood. “Oh! That makes sense!”
“Besides, the current trend is to gradually loosen restrictions on contingency fees in marriage cases. Guangdong Province has already lifted the ban entirely.”
Qian Heng checked his watch and scoffed. “No matter the industry, it’s not the complete amateurs who are the most troublesome—it’s the half-baked ones like you.” He clicked his tongue. “Explaining these basic concepts to you just wasted ten precious minutes of my life.”
“I…”
“Stop.” Qian Heng cut her off. “From now on, do me a favor—stop asking me these stupid questions. If you ask again, I’ll dock your salary.”
“…”
“Bao Rui’s leg injury worsened this afternoon, so he hasn’t finished investigating Xu Jun’s business affairs. You take over. I expect a clear and actionable investigation plan on my desk tomorrow morning.”
“Ah? Got it!”
Cheng Yao responded immediately, then instinctively waited for Qian Heng’s next instruction.
Qian Heng flipped through some files before realizing she was still standing there. Without even looking up, he waved her off. “You’re dismissed. Go kneel somewhere else.”
“…”
Cheng Yao felt like even fast-acting heart medication wouldn’t save her now. Her boss was too toxic—she was on the verge of suffocating.
*****
The entire afternoon, Cheng Yao continued her research based on the materials Bao Rui had compiled. Xu Jun’s corporate structure was vast and complex. It took her a long time to finally create a chart outlining the shareholding relationships, yet she was still completely lost on where to investigate his hidden assets.
In Tuantuan Online’s corporate network, there were indeed affiliated and subsidiary companies established during the marriage. However, these companies were either too numerous and disorganized or had limited profitability—some were even operating at a loss. Because of this, during the divorce proceedings, Bai Xingmeng only received a very small portion of the asset division.
Armed with an introduction letter from the law firm, Cheng Yao visited multiple business registration offices, retrieving internal records for Xu Jun’s companies, including Tuantuan Online. In reality, accessing these records required no real technical skill—it was just tedious legwork. And given that it was November, with bitter winds and relentless rain, Cheng Yao spent her days battling the elements. The neatly pressed suit she wore to work would be ruined within hours, her pant legs caked with mud and water. Even her face had developed two patches of windburn, turning red like she had altitude sickness.
Unfortunately, no matter how much hardship Cheng Yao endured, a man like Xu Jun—who had meticulously planned even the timing of his marriage—would never leave behind such obvious evidence. As expected, nothing useful turned up in the business records. Instead, Cheng Yao ended up catching a cold and even ran a fever.
However, Qian Heng’s words had ignited her fighting spirit. That night, after returning home, she buried herself in research, sniffling and sneezing as she worked.
Yet, despite hours of effort, she remained stuck. Just then, Qian Heng, who had been working late at the office, returned home.
Cheng Yao thought for a moment and decided that a wise person knew when to seek help. Given that her boss was practically a walking cheat code, she might as well ask for his guidance.
“Boss…”
“No.”
“…”
Qian Heng shot her a glance. “Don’t bring your stupid questions to me.”
“…”
Cheng Yao choked on her words but persisted. “I just wanted to ask for some advice—”
“You were the one who said that here, we’re just co-renters. It’s not working hours. Don’t bring work-related questions to me.”
“But you also told me to cherish this one month of living with you, so I thought…”
Qian Heng raised an eyebrow. “Who’s the boss here?”
“You are.”
“Then I make the rules. Now, turn around and go back to your room.”
“…”
“Wait.” Qian Heng remained expressionless. “Also, I stayed up until 2 AM last night working on a case, so I’m going straight to bed now. I expect absolute silence from you.”
Fine, boss. Whatever you say. But you better pray that one day, the tables don’t turn, and you end up at my mercy!!!
Author’s Note:
[Mini Theater]
Cheng Yao: One day, I swear, I’m going to pin Qian Heng down and beat him up!
Qian Heng: Didn’t know you were into that position. Alright, I suppose I can reluctantly accommodate you.
Cheng Yao: ???
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