First-Class Lawyer

Actually, Young Master Joe was apprehensive even after asking this.

He carefully observed Gu Yan’s micro-expressions and reactions, waiting for the other to respond, like a golden retriever that had been wronged. 

His scrutiny turned Gu Yan expressionless. “…Did you get out of the wrong side of bed?”

“No! Not that.” Young Master Joe was both helpless and innocent in this. “Aren’t I just worried that you wouldn’t be happy to revisit that old case as well?”

Gu Yan started slightly. “No. You’re overthinking it.”

“Amazing. Are you seriously not owning up to these old scores now, O’ Elite Lawyer?” Joe’s expression was contrived and exaggerated, but his voice didn’t raise too high, so those two on the sofa behind weren’t able to hear them still. “Remind me again who was it whose mood went down the drain because of that old case, scorning everyone, pretty much drawing a no-man’s land for all of everything within a kilometre’s radius around you?” 

Now, that was an outrageous exaggeration.

But Young Master Joe had a habit of speaking like this, and Gu Yan had long gotten used to it. He considered it before calmly saying, “It’s the same as when I’m in a better mood. Moreover, if I had really demarcated a no-man’s land, how could you have survived it?”

Joe, “I’m different. Everyone loves me.”

Gu Yan looked like he had never heard something more ridiculous in his life.

Young Master Joe silently whipped his head over and dry-heaved after saying this himself. “Forget it, I’ll stop sickening you; I feel even more sickened with myself. But seriously though, if you weren’t already like this with the dean now, I wouldn’t even be mentioning the case in front of you at this time—”

That was a loveable point about being friends with Young Master Joe. Though there were times when he was scatterbrained and doused with silliness, as long as he noticed something, he would always be a good bro about it.

All else aside, Lawyer Gu thought, It’s actually rather touching.

But right after this thought flashed by, Joe, this chatterbox, carried on yapping, “—Lest I remind you of the dark and dismal days of your secret crush. Speaking of which, I’m more curious about this than the case. How in the world did you make it happen? Number one, you don’t take the initiative; number two, you don’t know how to pursue people; number three, you don’t know how to sweet talk. You’re more likely to tick people off.” 

Then, Young Master Joe turned his head and was greeted by Gu Yan’s frosty face.

“What are you looking at me for? Am I wrong?”

Gu Yan, “…”

No. 

It was irrefutable.

If he was really going to nitpick…

“The last line isn’t quite accurate.”

“How is it inaccurate?” 

“He ticks me off even more.”

Lawyer Gu, at this time, was largely different from how he was when standing in court. At least, this sentence wasn’t spoken that coldly and pointedly. He didn’t sound as uncompromising, and his voice was even tinged with a trace of helplessness.

Joe mutely wiped his mouth, slapping away this dog food that was shoved into his face.

He lifted his chin, squinting at Gu Yan from the corner of his eyes, asking proudly, “I’ll be frank here. I even suspect that you don’t know how to confess. Have you ever said I love you? You didn’t, right? I knew the moment I saw your indifferent expression that you haven’t. So how the hell did you succeed? Purely by the power of your thoughts?” 

Xe Tjc, “…”

“Tbe mjc’a mea la ilxf atlr,” Abf rjlv. “Gb sbe xcbk ktja atf rjslcu ‘la’r fjrs ab lcnjvf yea vloolmeia ab vfofcv’ wfjcr? Qtja’r klat atja fzqgfrrlbc? Qtja jgf sbe ibbxlcu ja wf ilxf atja obg?”

Xe Tjc rtloafv tlr ilcf bo rluta ogbw tlr ybvs, tlr mbiv ujhf oilaalcu ys. “Pa’r cbatlcu. P pera revvfcis obecv la bvv tbk sbe’gf ralii rlcuif ktfc sbe’gf rb xcbkifvufjyif lc atfrf wjaafgr.”

The arrow shot straight through Joe’s heart; he puked blood. 

“Let’s… not talk about this.” Joe said, “Can you still find your analysis from back then? How about sending me a copy? And I’ll look into it first?”

Gu Yan shook his head. “Weren’t you watching when I deleted it?”

“Then… should I ask him?” Joe, very carefully, turned his head back, then silently pulled out his smart device, “Hang on. I need to buy insurance first.”

Gu Yan, “…” 

He was silent for a moment. “Don’t ask him.”

“Does the case disgust him?”

“No,” Gu Yan said. “Not to that extent. He should have seen a few sentences about it a while back when someone dug up that medical case, and he hadn’t shown any particular reaction then. But…”

“But?” 

Gu Yan didn’t speak. To be precise, he didn’t know how to describe it.

On the occasions that the old case was brought up online, Yan Suizhi’s expression would remain unchanged, glancing through it. He would space out sometimes, but he wouldn’t stay that way for too long.

It was akin to revisiting a prosaic, day-to-day happening, as though the discourse of the past was as transient as a fleeting cloud, not leaving behind any vestiges in his heart.

But there were two points, now in retrospect, that stood out. 

First, Yan Suizhi seemed to like reading opinion pieces of those denouncing him. Whenever that old case was dug up on the internet, it was impossible that they would just touch and go without digressing to talk about it. Ordinary write-ups didn’t normally have any need to dredge out that case, so it wasn’t strange that Yan Suizhi had many compliments paid to him in these years. So, when many of those media outlets brought it up, they would also drop a few more sentences talking about the negative comments it provoked.

Whenever Yan Suizhi saw those, he would pause for a while more, reading it even more seriously. Once done, he would relax subtly.

Secondly, he had never personally mentioned that case. Even when Gu Yan was telling him about their conflicting ideologies, or during conversations about the past relevant to it, he’d never brought up that case of his own volition.

He spoke of ‘ideologies’ and ‘such-and-such birthday wine party’, ‘the lecture’ and the ‘dilemma of staying true to one’s aspirations’—yet the one thing he’d always skipped past was the old case that had sparked all of these complications. 

Even the phrase ‘that case’, to refer to it in allusion, had never passed his lips.

He avoided it too naturally during those times, making the topic appear to skip past it as a matter of course, such that it was difficult to ascertain if it was done on purpose or not.

It wasn’t anything much if it was unwitting.

But what if it was deliberately so? 

“Blimey—forget it. I’ll talk to my sis again.” Joe was always terrified to ask this in the first place, so without Gu Yan having to expound on much, he went ahead to pound the drums of retreat, his fingers flying as he messaged Eunice.

Eunice’s response soon came in:

-I knew that you wouldn’t be able to come up with anything. But that’s only expected. After all, Gu was still young at that time.

Joe’s lips were as tight as he promised. Even his own sister knew nothing of Yan Suizhi’s ‘resurrection’, which was why she assumed that he had hounded Gu Yan for answers. 

She swiftly followed up with another one:

-I asked my friends in the media earlier in the afternoon and they promised to get back to me by tonight; maybe I’ll get something useful later. I’m not holding out for you to do anything else, so just help me pray for something useful.

Joe, who suddenly felt like his only purpose in life was to be his sister’s mascot, “…”

Ten minutes later, Joe’s smart device vibrated; Eunice had dialled straight over. 

“What?” Joe asked unconsciously.

“What else can it be? I’ve got something, duh,” Eunice said irritably.

“Jesus, the efficiency of your media friends is terrifying. Do they live in the network databases?”

“Bugger off! Stop talking nonsense,” Eunice said. “They sent me files, I’ll drop you a copy in a bit. If you can, have Gu help out. Those lawyers tend to have a different perspective; he might be able to catch something we missed.” 

Joe, “What are you hoping to find?”

Eunice said, “I’m hoping that he can immediately discern that old pops had drawn a line between himself and those madmen, doing nothing that he shouldn’t have done. But is that possible? It’s not something that we can tell for sure at this time. Anyway, let him go through them and see if he can spot any relations. We’ve already spent so long searching in vain; it doesn’t hurt to let him have a try at it.”

As she spoke, she sent the purported file package over.

Joe’s eyes began to hurt when he saw the file size. “My God, how much is in there? What does it contain? Did they send you every file created in the last forty years of the alliance?” 

Eunice, “…Less talk more action! I already told you that it’s my friends from the media; what they found will mostly be related to their line of work. They’re still trying to reach out. It’s all down to luck how comprehensive our intel will be in the end. It’s been so many years, after all.”

“Aye, aye, yes, My Lady,” Joe said, deferentially accepting the file transfer, hanging up on the call with Eunice.

“Related to the media…” Joe mumbled. “They couldn’t have collected all the news articles, videos, transcripts, and whatnot related to the case across the alliance, could they? Be an old sport and help me take on some of it?”

He looked woe-eyed at Gu Yan, “How about it?” 

Gu Yan, “Send it over when you’ve unzipped it.”

Joe beamed. “Ey, you’re the best! I’ll send you half, then!”

Gu Yan, “It’s fine. Just send me all of it.”

Joe, “???” 

He jolted, then came around, shaking his head. “I suddenly feel that it’s a blessing that you’ve had your mouth sawed off. God knows how many people would fall head over heels for you, otherwise.”

Joe didn’t idle around. While unzipping that humongous file, he randomly picked and checked out a few that had finished unzipping.

“I knew it. Most of them are news coverage,” Joe said. “Ah… there are also some that had been written but weren’t able to be published in the end.”

He pointed out a few on the screen to Gu Yan. 

Five pages lined up in a row. Joe kept opening new ones, and the number of pages placed side by side kept increasing.

Gu Yan swept his eyes across them. These were different from those mentioned in passing in association with the Elderly Bobblehead case; they were original coverages from back in the day. When he was writing his analysis in university, he had read no less than a hundred of these.

The pages crossed his vision soundlessly, keywords rushing into his eyes like a tidal wave. It was clearly already a decade ago, yet looking at them again now, he could still subconsciously recall what the subsequent sentence and paragraph would be.

He could even remember what feelings they evoked back then, yet there was something different about it. 

It was only when unfamiliar pages that he had never come across before finally appeared amidst these familiar articles that Gu Yan came back to his senses.

“What is this?” He reached over to press down on a sheet.

Joe opened the document information. “Ah, it was one of those that was retracted after they were published.”

“Retracted?” Gu Yan asked. “Did they say why?” 

Joe read the note aloud, “The reason given was that the hype of the case had passed by then. The platform had other content to publish, so the person in charge pulled this article.”

After that, he closed the information text and said, “It’s normal considering that it’s a small website. Just that the reporter who wrote this back then would probably have been depressed. The friends that my sis has in the media often harped over those.”

The article wasn’t about the medical case itself, but took place roughly half a year later, according to the time stamp on the bottom-right corner of the page. The defendant was still the same, but the case had changed, involving more criminal charges and more comprehensive evidence.

This time, it was watertight. The defendant was convicted in court, to the immense satisfaction of the people. 

The focal point of this article was a photograph.

The photograph was of the gallery at the trial. A handsome young man sat in the last row like an exquisite sculpture of white jade, a faint sense of coldness emanating from his gentle and graceful demeanour.

His gaze evenly fell on the defendant’s dock, his long and dense eyelashes casting shadows beneath his eyes.

Perhaps it was because most spectators were sitting in the first few rows—with no one else in the last row… he appeared quiet and set apart. 

The article said that after six months, Yan Suizhi came to watch a trial that had no relevance to him. He sat in a long silence, watching the defendant’s sentencing, and left alone before the crowd dispersed.

According to the article, this young and promising lawyer might not be what some people believed him to be, that maybe he, too, wanted to see justice being served.

Gu Yan’s gaze paused on the photo for a long time.

The beginning of the article stated that the trial was held on January 24, which was the date inscribed on Yan Suizhi’s gravestone—his actual birthday. 

The reporter’s pen name was tagged to the end of the article. It was Jim Bens.