First-Class Lawyer

Only a dim pendant lamp was turned on in Joe’s room, reflecting an aquamarine sheen on the French windows at the balcony.

It sufficed to allow them to see their wine glasses without hindering the ambience for conversation. 

Young Master Joe took a few ice cubes and dropped them into his cup. The clinking sound was startlingly clear, its contrast deepening the quiet of the night.

He poured some good wine, placed one of the glasses in front of Gu Yan, and drank from the other glass, letting the icy liquid sit on his tongue for a moment before slowly swallowing.

Gu Yan didn’t push it away either, taking the cup and sipping it, his gaze falling on the blurry nightscape outside the window.

This was an advantage of being friends with Gu Yan. He had enough patience to wait for you to sort out your emotions before speaking, and even if you didn’t have any idea where to start, he’d also pick a suitable time to lightly open the conversation. 

“Is it because of the situation with Manson?” Gu Yan asked this without even checking Joe’s expression.

Joe arched a brow. “You can tell?”

After his surprise, he nodded his head, accepting, “True, when have you not been able to tell? Yeah, that’s part of the reason. It might also be because I saw the state that Manson was in when I dropped by the hospital yesterday. I later contacted the police as well and met Zhao Zemu, then thought of many things from my childhood.”

“I’ve mentioned this to you before, right? We were actually quite close as kids, way better than we are now. Maybe a lot of it had to do with the business relationship between our parents, but we really got along purely because we liked being around each other. If we were in the right mood, we’d have fun together, and if we weren’t, then we’d play rough together. Zhao Zemu is older than us, so he used to help save Manson’s and my asses when we charged headlong into trouble. That nimwit Manson did the stupidest things; he’d probably helped Manson clean up his messes twice as often as he had for me…”

“Say, isn’t life interesting? We were bonded for life, yet the gradual distance really became a long stretch. Now, one is lying in a hospital and another is sitting in a detention centre. In the future, there likely won’t be any more chances for us to meet. And the most ironic thing is that my relationship with Manson is slowly improving because of this.”

“…I’m rather unwilling to believe that Zhao Zemu would do that for the reason he gave. Manson, too.”

Joe drank his wine, his brows furrowed together, half-seriously asking, “Why? I’ve never had such problems with you, as well as the friends I made later on.”

Gu Yan said, “You met each other too soon.” 

Joe gave a start. “Huh?”

“You met each other too soon. Your thoughts and opinions had yet to fully form; you had yet to come into age. You were changing, and the other party was changing as well. It’s easy to end up running counter to each other.”

Joe nodded. “Fair enough. We met each other in university; by then our ways were already set. If we got along, we got along, and anything more would be fine-tuning, at most.” 

Gu Yan hummed in agreement. 

Joe looked down at the garden, at the silhouettes of trees dappled with light.

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Gu Yan considered it and said, “Then you probably wouldn’t have known each other at all.”

Joe, “…” 

With his words blocked by this conclusion, the young master downed half a glass of wine in feigned displeasure, before snickering.

Gu Yan glanced askew at him. “Have you had too much to drink?”

Young Master Joe flapped his hand. “Nah, it’s just that your sudden take-down was quite amusing.”

“Man, did you know? When I was young, those rich families would often organise those afternoon teas, and my parents would invite many of their business contacts. Most that participated would bring their children along. The adults had their cliques, and the kids would have their cliques as well. It was basically forging connections in advance; few people would pass up on chances like these.” Young Master Joe lounged back in his seat, relaxed as he recalled these past events. “But I remember that there were a few families who never brought their children. Not only did they not bring their children, but they’d also had them hidden pretty well.” 

“Did the cover last?” Gu Yan casually asked.

Joe nodded. “They can be protected quite tightly if the parents had the mind to do so. Of course, it’s a bit of a challenge if it’s families like mine and Manson’s. But those that aren’t that big would always have their ways to keep their children hidden. From what I remember, there was a beautiful couple who looked like they walked out of a painting. Surnamed Lin, I think? When we were young, we used to talk about how attractive their child would be, but I never got the chance to meet him. Let alone seeing how he looked, no one even knew his name. Back then, I thought it was a pity, but later… I thought that it was a blessing.”

Gu Yan found this turn odd. He looked at Joe. “A blessing?”

Joe didn’t give an immediate response. 

He finished the glass in his hand and filled half his cup with ice again, then refilled his drink. The golden liquor doused the ice, rounding its edges and covering the walls of the glass with a thin layer of condensation.

Joe used a thumb to wipe the condensation and said, “I don’t know what’s up with me the past few days, but I keep dreaming about my childhood. At that time, I used to be pretty close to Old Fox.”

Gu Yan was surprised. This topic came out of the blue, and the other had actually taken the initiative to bring up his father. It was also then that he began to grasp that… the thoughts weighing on Joe’s mind were likely these.

“I remember that every time we went to the stable, I couldn’t climb up the stirrups yet kept clamouring to ride. He’d hoist me on his shoulders and scoot me around to look at the horses. He was already getting on in his years back then; during those years, my sister was fresh out of university and was learning to handle the company affairs.” 

He reminisced for a moment before adding, “We really were… quite close.”

“Actually, he treats his family very well,” Joe said. “But I found out afterwards that… he doesn’t necessarily treat others the same way. I overheard many of his business calls with Old Manson or someone else. I can’t remember any concrete details, but they were always trying to screw someone’s production line or force them into a corner, stuff like that…”

He didn’t like thinking back on these, and his tone unconsciously turned more agitated.

“In short, I was still young at that time, and hearing him speak like that made me uncomfortable. After that, it’s like I suddenly got paranoid. Every time I heard that something had happened to someone, I’d instinctively wonder if it was Old Fox who did it, even if there was no basis behind it at all.” 

Joe took another sip of his wine, suppressing those emotions.

After spending a while to regroup himself, he shrugged, telling Gu Yan, “You know the rest. Maybe because of my psychological state, I kept falling sick, constantly getting fevers that came and went. It’s probably thanks to that that my brain’s all stupid now.”

Gu Yan had known about Joe’s spell of sickness; those grades he got held back for were also during this period.

But he didn’t know that the reason behind it was due to this. 

Perhaps because of his falling out with his father, Joe went down the complete opposite path after that.

His father made friends based on profitability, and so he picked his friends based on his mood. Apart from those few childhood friends, the rest of his friends were made because their temperaments matched, and those who didn’t could piss off.

His father was a calculating man, and so he lived life carefree and frivolously.

His father was good at obtaining advantages for himself, and so he lavished it all outside, treating his friends very generously. 

“Actually, Old Fox has stopped for many years now,” Joe said. “I got my sister to rein him in so that he wouldn’t walk too close to the Manson family. It turned out unexpectedly effective, so I never really talked about it; there’s no point. But after those two Manson brothers practically took over the family affairs, they’ve been making big splashes. I heard my sister complain that the Manson family has started to reel Old Fox in again.”

Young Master Joe had a foul look on his face. “Who in the world knows what crazy things they can get up to. I’ve been losing sleep lately.”

Gu Yan, “No wonder.”

“What no wonder?” 

“Miller Manson said that your father was arriving tomorrow. You normally avoid such occasions as much as possible.” Gu Yan said. “But it was the opposite this time. I was planning to ask you what happened.”

Joe had been in a dark mood from keeping this all bottled up. If it wasn’t for the recent moves Manson had been making to reel in his father, he probably wouldn’t have gotten the urge or opportunity to confide in anyone.

And now that he talked it out and heard Gu Yan’s concern for him, his mood turned from a cloudy sky to a clear day.

His life should have been full of suspicion, strife, and false pretences. But because he had friends like Gu Yan, everything was different, for their first reaction when they heard any news was never suspicion but to ask whether he was faring well. 

“Forget it, I’ll just take it as it comes. My sister’s keeping an eye on the company. I’ll keep an eye over here. I’ve already hated him for so many years, I don’t want that Old Fox to turn even more despicable,” Joe said.

He polished off the last bit of wine in one go and readily refilled it again. He said to Gu Yan, “Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever given you a proper toast.”

Gu Yan, “What for?”

“Don’t quibble with me over this; it’s long due!” Joe smiled and clinked their glasses together. “A toast to my best friend.” 

Gu Yan raised his brows in response, draining the wine in his glass as well.

Young Master Joe held up the wine bottle in high spirits, about to replenish the drink in his glass.

But Gu Yan covered his glass. “Save it. Leave the rest for yourself. That intern of mine has a sharp nose.”

Joe was puzzled. “So what if he smells it? Are you afraid that he’ll get a craving and sneak a sip?” 

Right as he said this, he sucked in a breath. “Actually, I’ve been confused about this for a long time now. Why the heck are you managing what he eats and drinks, not letting him touch this and that? Isn’t that too weird?”

Gu Yan stood and set his glass down, rubbing his neck. “Don’t you also manage Ke Jin like this?”

“That’s different!” Joe said.

Gu Yan, “How is it different?” 

Young Master Joe’s eyes darted towards Ke Jin’s room. “Because I like him.”

Gu Yan nodded. He gazed out of the French windows at the nightscape for a while, then said calmly, “Then it’s the same.”

Joe thought about it on his feet for a full minute, unable to digest it into something comprehensible, he asked, stunned, “No. Hold on. What is the same?”

Gu Yan quietly glanced at him. “I like him, which is why I manage him when it comes to certain areas. Is there a problem with that?” 

Because his tone was too matter-of-fact, Joe unconsciously nodded his head, saying, “Not at all.”

Gu Yan didn’t delay further, taking his leave. And after he’d crossed half a living room, the door behind him to Young Master Joe’s room suddenly slammed open.

A scandalised shout pierced his eardrums. “Who did you say you liked?”

Perhaps due to his excessive shock, his voice splintered on the last syllable.