First-Class Lawyer

Frankly, when it came to something like this that sounded as if it contained some sort of thrilling secret, people wouldn’t get a third party to be a messenger, but instead insist on saying it straight to the clients themselves, evading outside scrutiny.

Those like Yan Suizhi who casually asked someone else to pass on the message were seldom seen. 

This was the first time that the warden had encountered such a lawyer. He raised an eyebrow, an inscrutable look teeming with curiosity on his face as he glanced towards Yan Suizhi, and glanced back again a while later. After a few rounds of this glancing back and forth, he finally fumbled with his electric baton, saying, “Just this?”

“Yes, thank you.” Yan Suizhi put down his cup, got up, and walked out.

Before stepping out of the door, as if suddenly thinking of something, he supplemented, “Oh, right. If he can’t wait for tomorrow and clamours to see me today, then remind him for me that I only listen to the truth.”

The warden, “…Are you serious?” 

He had hammered the nail into the coffin just a moment ago, and less than five minutes later, this lawyer was having delusions of the other party clamouring for a meeting? It would be faster to dream, right…

Half-earnest, Yan Suizhi said, “It’s a joke of course.”

The warden gave a thin smile that didn’t reach his eyes, leaving this young lawyer some face.

It was common for intern lawyers to be driven like ducks onto a perch, pushed to handle tasks beyond their capacity; but it was still the warden’s first time coming across someone who behaved like this. How should he describe it… the other was behaving like he was a regular visitor to the detention centre.

Was this normal?

Certainly not.

The warden stared for a good few moments at Yan Suizhi’s back as the man left, muttering in his head, ‘Are fresh grads all so relaxed nowadays? Why isn’t he getting angry or anxious about being turned away by his client?’

He pondered silently for a while, thinking it could be that he didn’t appear intimidating enough. He was too soft, failing to make the other person appreciate the true atmosphere of the detention centre. Either that, or the other was afraid of showing fear and was feigning calmness; possibly, after getting out of the detention centre, he would be finding a corner to squat and cry at. 

He was more inclined to believe the latter.

So, he looked at Yan Suizhi with a little sympathy, until Yan Suizhi turned the corner of the corridor, the iron door creaking behind him as he left. Only then did the warden shrug his shoulders and say to his partner, “I bet he’s gonna cry.”

The other warden glanced at the time. “For sure. They were supposed to meet for an hour. It’s only been ten minutes and the rest of it is wasted. Anyone would feel upset with such a rocky start.”

“Keep making your rounds. I’ll help that poor intern pass the message.” 

In actuality, Yan Suizhi didn’t leave the vicinity of the detention centre immediately after he came out.

Of course, there was no way that he was going to crouch in a corner and cry. Instead, he found a cafe across the road, ordered a cup of coffee, and sat down calmly.

His smart device buzzed, receiving several messages in quick succession.

He tapped in to view them. One was from Fizz, and two were from the little fool Luke. 

Luke, [Is the case going well?]

Luke, [Btw I discussed it with the landlord. He’s willing to hold the place for you till you get back and have a look at it. He’ll rent it to you if you’re satisfied.]

Yan Suizhi sent him a short response.

Whereas the contents of Fizz’s message was like she had glued a monitoring camera to Yan Suizhi’s body: 

-I checked the time in Tian Qin, it’s about time for you to meet your client. How did it go? Were you nervous? Also, you didn’t submit your work log yesterday.

Before leaving, Fizz expressed a thousand and one different concerns, as if Yan Suizhi had not come to fight the battle alone but to sacrifice his life like a martyr. She had also instructed him several times to fill out a daily work log and submit it to the intern system, not to miss a single day of extra credit that could be gained from attending court in person.

In the end, Yan Suizhi had flung it to the back of his mind, completely forgetting about it last night and not submitting a single word.

He lifted his eyebrows, deciding to mimic a normal intern’s psyche in his reply, thus casually used the little fool Luke as his model: 

-It was terrible. My client shut me out the door, I’m so nervous I’m going to puke.

Two seconds later, Fizz replied with an unending ellipsis, followed by another message:

-Did you eat something wrong today???

Yan Suizhi laughed. He thought back to Gu Yan’s admonition to ‘just act as you naturally would’ in front of Fizz. Well, he wasn’t wrong. By working hard to put on the veneer of an intern, she would conversely find that he was acting weird. 

Yan Suizhi, [No, I’m just kidding. But it is true that he turned me away.]

Fizz, [That only means that your client doesn’t have an eye for attractive men.]

Fizz, [I really don’t have a clue how to deal with being turned away by your client. You’ll have to ask your teacher about that.]

Yan Suizhi had just tapped out the two words ‘it’s fine’, but before he could even send it, Fizz’s reply came flying in: 

-I know that you’d be too embarrassed to ask, so I did it for you. You’re welcome.

Yan Suizhi, “???”

After thanking the overly warmhearted Ms Fizz, Yan Suizhi stared at his smart device for a few seconds. As expected, it began buzzing; this time, going above and beyond what Ms Fizz had hoped for—it didn’t buzz with an incoming message, but with a call from the pettymint essence.

Mbg j oiffalcu wbwfca, Tjc Velhtl ofia atja atf ogfdefcms klat ktlmt tf jcv Xe Tjc tjv yffc rqfjxlcu bnfg mbwwr gfmfcais kjr j ilaaif tlut. Tfa, ktfc tf atbeuta vffqfg lcab la, la kjr cb wbgf atjc akb bg atgff alwfr, jcv atf vegjalbc bo fjmt mjii kjrc’a ibcu. 

He wavered for a second, then wore his earpiece and received the communication request.

Gu Yan’s voice came from his earpiece, his tone placid. “Fizz just sent me a screenshot. I heard that you got shut out by your client and are so nervous you’re about to puke.”

Yan Suizhi, “…” How was Ms Fizz so good at passing on messages?

“I suggest that you don’t try your hand at acting.” 

As usual, not a single word from Gu Yan was pleasing to listen to, just as if he wasn’t the one who had said ‘stay safe’ before, but that a ghost had climbed on his shoulders and forced him to say it.

Nevertheless, from these two short sentences, Yan Suizhi heard something else.

“Give it a rest, you can mock me later.” Yan Suizhi blocked his words with exceptional calm, asking, “Did you catch a cold?”

“No.” 

Yan Suizhi thought it slightly off. “Then why do you sound a little nasally?”

Gu Yan’s voice was deeper than usual, and even sounded slightly husky, carrying a rare hint of indolence.

After a moment of silence, he then heard the soft rustling of the bedroom slippers against the floor and the soft clinking of glass set against the counter. “I was sleeping.”

Yan Suizhi subconsciously pulled up the interstellar clocks on his smart device. “What time is it over there?” 

Gu Yan said, “Eleven, but it’s a Twin Night in Redstone today.”

Redstone was one of the central planets of the interstellar alliance. It was large and saw a unique phenomenon called Twin Days and Twin Nights, which, as the name suggested, meant that the days were twice longer than usual for the former, and the nights twice longer than usual for the latter. Whenever this phenomenon occurred, everyone in Redstone would slow to a pace equivalent to having an extra day off.

“You actually encountered a Twin Night?” Yan Suizhi said, “How many rounds do you have left in this review?”

“One tomorrow,” Gu Yan said indifferently. 

Yan Suizhi nodded, casually flicking the time on the screen to Redstone’s. He checked the time conversion interface for Redstone and Tian Qin. Something suddenly occurred to him. “What time was it on your end when I called you last night?”

“Around three in the morning.” Perhaps because he had just woken up, Gu Yan replied without thinking about it.

Yan Suizhi’s fingers turned the cup in front of him, and paused. He said, “You went out to buy coffee at three in the morning?”

From the earpiece, the sound of coffee bubbling and being poured into glass was clearly audible, as well as the soft sound of Gu Yan’s even breathing… He seemed to still be calmly going about his business, simply that he had not answered. 

When the silence drew out, Gu Yan appeared to rest a spoon in the cup, before tepidly replying, “It’s Redstone.”

Redstone was irregularly large. It took a long time to get anywhere, but it was also a flourishing region. Compared to the De Carma, the planet that never slept, this place was mayhap no better. Even going out at two in the morning wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.

That should be what Gu Yan was expressing.

Yan Suizhi hummed. After a brief pause, he confirmed again. “Are you really in Redstone now?” 

Gu Yan, “…”

By this point, the conversation was basically dead, primarily because a certain dean didn’t want to have a proper conversation and was more intent on teasing the other, insistently dredging up some topics to air. But he didn’t say it outright, simply tossing out little morsels, and letting the other take the hint.

The spoon in Gu Yan’s coffee cup clanged. Even hundreds of thousands of light-years away, Yan Suizhi could imagine how speechless and paralysed his expression must be at this moment.

Yan Suizhi laughed. “Should I be glad that my call caught you in time?” 

Gu Yan still didn’t say a word, remaining silent and his thoughts unreadable.

Yan Suizhi tentatively interpreted it as him staying silent out of courtesy, so he opened his mouth to say, “Seems that I didn’t miss the mark and pick the wrong student back then.”

After a period of silence, Gu Yan finally spoke up coldly, “Are you sure that you picked the students?”

This level of shamelessness was astounding. It was clearly the students who had the first right of choice. 

It was a cloudy day in Tian Qin Zone 3. The area near the detention centre was even cloudier, and thick dark clouds had piled up in the sky within the span of their short conversation.

“It’s going to rain.” Yan Suizhi glanced at the sky.

In his earpiece, the first sip of coffee finally restored Gu Yan’s barbed tongue; he tossed back a sentence. “Check your asset card before you spend, make sure to leave yourself enough money to buy an umbrella.”

“…” 

The esteemed Professor Yan, who had just lost a sum of money to foot the bill for the meal last night, felt a prick of guilt, thinking in his heart, ‘Screw you, you never say anything proper.’

—

In the detention centre, the warden strode down the corridor and opened a narrow door.

Behind the door, Chen Zhang was lying curled up on the bed. He faced the wall motionlessly, as though he hadn’t heard the door open. 

“Hey—” The warden pulled an intimidating face and barked at the man on the bed. “I’m talking to you, didn’t you hear me? Turn over! What do you mean by turning your back on me?”

Chen Zhang’s head moved a little, and he stiffly supported himself up to a sitting position on the bed. His motions were sluggish, as if he had aged many years in the blink of an eye, and even his legs and shoulders weren’t as nimble as they used to be. He sat on the side of the bed. He didn’t lift his head or make a sound, but this series of actions all conveyed one message—Speak. I’m listening.

In truth, Chen Zhang’s behaviour wasn’t too bad. He was very compliant. He basically followed whatever the warden told him to do; never giving anyone trouble, nor randomly kicking up a fuss. The only thing he was uncooperative about was that he was excessively taciturn and passive.

The warden saw that he was behaving well as usual, and his tone softened significantly. He drily said, “Your lawyer got me to pass on a message.” 

Chen Zhang, as before, didn’t move, like he hadn’t heard a thing.

The warden grew faintly impatient, continuing, “He said that he was a regular at Champagne from ‘31-’47…”

He spoke fast, possibly believing that these words wouldn’t be of any use. In the end, midway through it, Chen Zhang whose head was perpetually lowered unexpectedly seemed as if someone had pressed his reboot button. His neck moved, and he stiffly and slowly raised his head. His overcast, grey eyes fixed on him unerringly.

The warden, “Uh…” 

For a split second, he forgot his lines. But he quickly recovered. “And he asked you if you know someone by the name of Chen Wen.”

“…Who?” Chen Zhang asked with some difficulty. “Who… did you say?”

The warden rolled his eyes. “Chen Wen, pretty sure I didn’t hear him wrong.”

It was hard to put into words exactly how many times the colour of Chen Zhang’s expression changed. The expression in his eyes oscillated sharply, lighting up and darkening many times, like he was both conflicted and disbelieving. 

Did he actually come back to life?

The warden was a little surprised, but he still waited for a few minutes. Chen Zhang remained lost in the myriad of emotions and didn’t look like he had any intention of getting up, so he irritably said, “Alright, that’s all. Behave yourself.”

With that, he turned around, making to close the door behind him.

But in the blink of an eye, right as the door was just about to latch close, a hand suddenly reached out from behind the warden, jamming itself into the doorway. 

The warden was well-trained, subconsciously clamping the hand, immediately twisting him into a reverse chokehold.

Chen Zhang’s neck was in his hand. Because he was jammed against the wall, Chen Zhang’s originally waxy face quickly turned maroon from lack of air. He breathily explained, “I… I only wanted to call hold of you… Can… Can I see… my lawyer…”

Warden, “…Tomorrow.”

Chen Zhang, “Today… cough, can it be today?” 

Warden, “…”

Fine. It wasn’t to the extent that Chen Zhang was crying and screaming yet, but from how he looked as if he was going to suffocate to death here, he was likely going out of his mind.

“Then why didn’t you go earlier?” The warden mocked, loosening his fingers to let Chen Zhang catch his breath. “Isn’t it too late to regret now that the guy’s gone?”

Chen Zhang bent over, covering his throat and hacking raspily. 

While thinking to himself that the intern was unexpectedly spot on in his prediction, the warden reluctantly told Chen Zhang, “Your lawyer even asked me to tell you one more thing.”

Chen Zhang looked up. His eyes had turned bloodshot from coughing.

“He said, if you cry and scream insisting that you have to see him, he will only listen to the truth.”

Chen Zhang, “…” 

This warden was probably the most open to persuasion. After glaring at Chen Zhang for a good while, he ended up grumbling impatiently, “What a pain!”, then took out the smart device he used at work to make a communication request.

After a few dial tones, the person on the other end leisurely picked up. “Hello.”

The warden, “…This is the detention centre.”

On the other end, “Chen Zhang wants to see me?” 

The warden, “…Yeah.”

“Great, I’ll come over now.”

The warden thought about it for a moment before saying, “Where are you? How long will it take you to come back? There isn’t much time for visitation left, if you only have ten minutes left by the time you return, then I suggest that you just wait for tomorrow.”

He actually said this out of consideration for the intern as well. With someone as reticient as Chen Zhang, asking a few pointless questions in blind panic would not only do little good, but Chen Zhang might even refuse to see him the next time. 

Little did he expect that the voice of the person on the other end would contain a knowing smile. “I won’t take long, I’m at the cafe right across from your respectable establishment.”

The warden, “…”

Amazing. This guy was too lazy to walk knowing that his client would change his mind, and just waited right there!

Even calling this place a respectable establishment… 

This intern might really be a monster.

The warden grumbled in his head, then waved at Chen Zhang. “Alright, come with me.”

In the cafe, Yan Suizhi had already hung up on the warden and got up to make his second visit to the detention centre. According to the regulations in Tian Qin, lawyers were not allowed to bring their smart devices into the visiting room without a warden present, and they weren’t allowed to provide any means of external communication for the suspect.

Before entering the visiting room, Yan Suizhi slid the smart device off his finger. He was about to place it into the transparent pouch the warden had given him when he suddenly remembered something, and he paused. 

“Just a moment.” He smiled at the warden, then projected a hologram from his smart device and sent Gu Yan a message.

-Have a good review.

Chen Zhang met his lawyer in the visiting room.

In all honesty, he hadn’t even asked who the lawyer was before this, nor did he have the appetite to ask. He only heard fragmented talk from the wardens that it was a young man, the type that was so young he was sure to lose the case. 

That was within what he had expected. However, what he never expected was that it was actually someone he knew.

“It’s you?”

Chen Zhang’s jaw dropped open in surprise even before he took a seat in the visiting room.

And he was doomed the moment he spoke of his own accord. 

“Are you that… intern who followed behind that famous lawyer?” Chen Zhang stood startled before the table for a while before pulling the chair and taking a seat.

Yan Suizhi nodded. “It doesn’t bode well for you to see me when I’m on business, so I can only say my condolences for meeting again.”

Chen Zhang, “…”

These two people had recently met in the revelry of a beach party and actually met again under such circumstances. Yan Suizhi remained completely unfazed, but Chen Zhang was beyond embarrassed. This embarrassment even diluted his earlier passive resistance to his lawyer. 

The warden eyed the time, reminding, “You only have half an hour of visitation time left. Use it well.”

With that, he left the visiting room, helping them to shut the door behind him.

The sound of the door closing snapped Chen Zhang out of his embarrassment. He suddenly realised that this intern lawyer before him was really young. Too young, in fact. So…

“The thing that you got the warden to tell me… In ‘31-’47, you… Even if it’s ‘47, that’s already a decade ago, how old were you then?!” 

In actuality, Yan Suizhi was twenty-five years old at that time, but ‘Ruan Ye’ wasn’t. This time, the esteemed Professor Yan remembered his persona, marking his age down by a whole generation without any sense of shame. “7 years old?”

Chen Zhang, “…”

His lips twitched, an expletive almost slipping out of his mouth.

Only 7 years old in ‘47, which meant that he wasn’t even an embryo in ‘31. Where the fuck did this ‘regular at Champagne’ come from?! 

“Were you lying to me?” Chen Zhang glared at him.

Yan Suizhi nodded with exceptional candour. “Who said that I wasn’t?”

Then, he switched to a more relaxed and elegant posture, looking into Chen Zhang’s eyes as he said, “But that doesn’t impede me from knowing what happened back then, and I believe that this could be a breakthrough in this case, don’t you think? Mr Chen Zhang, or should I say… Mr Chen Wen?”

Chen Zhang’s teeth rattled. Yet he didn’t look enraged—instead, he looked nervous. “You, you. How do you know this? How much do you know?”