Back at the law firm, the first thing Jiang Mian did was look for Partner Wang.
He told Partner Wang he wanted to withdraw from this particular case. Partner Wang was a bit surprised and asked again to confirm.
Jiang Mian’s speech was as unhurried as ever, but firm. “I’m sure.”
Partner Wang: “Because of what you talked about in the parking lot?”
Jiang Mian didn’t hide it. “Yes.”
He spoke honestly. “I feel I’m no longer suited to be involved.”
Seeing his candor, Partner Wang had no criticisms whatsoever. Instead, the look he gave Jiang Mian was filled with nostalgia and an elder’s appreciation for a junior. “Alright, just send me your notes. That’ll be it.”
Partner Wang paused slightly. “But you know, duty of confidentiality.”
Of course, Jiang Mian understood. Even after withdrawing from the case, or even leaving the firm, he still had to keep things confidential. So he nodded. “Yes.”
After responding, he didn’t leave immediately. He stood there, looking at Partner Wang, who had lowered his head to resume work. Jiang Mian silently repeated the words Chen Gu had told him, then spoke.
“Partner Wang.”
Partner Wang looked up, his face full of kindness. “What is it?”
“I want to resign.”
“Resign? Right, it’s almost late August, you start school in early September, yes?”
“No.” Jiang Mian said slowly. “I mean, I won’t be coming back afterward.”
When Jiang Liaoyi had found this firm for him, the arrangement was that he’d be attached here, and even when school started, he could come and do part-time work on days off to broaden his experience.
Partner Wang initially thought Jiang Mian meant he was leaving because school was starting. He hadn’t expected Jiang Mian meant he was leaving for good. Now he was truly surprised. “Did something happen?”
Jiang Mian shook his head. “No.”
He didn’t offer any explanation or say anything further. That was just Jiang Mian’s personality, always making people wonder more.
Partner Wang: “Still because of this case?”
Jiang Mian was honest. “In a way.”
Partner Wang frowned, feeling Jiang Mian was being a bit too capricious, wanting to quit over a single case.
He was about to habitually lecture him, but when he met Jiang Mian’s calm eyes, the image and name of Jiang Liaoyi came to mind.
Jiang Mian wasn’t like those fresh graduates, full of passion for society.
Besides, everyone’s path was different. Jiang Liaoyi could work as a lawyer while upholding the bottom line of the law. Perhaps Jiang Mian would become the next Jiang Liaoyi.
So the words on Partner Wang’s lips were swallowed back. He simply nodded. “Then, hand over your work. After the handover, just check with HR, and that’s it.”
Jiang Mian agreed.
He had never been officially employed. Jiang Liaoyi had merely asked Partner Wang and the others to let him observe cases. Because his grades were excellent, Partner Wang and the others were happy to let him see those complex cases. So, Jiang Mian’s workload was very light.
Leaving was simple.
Thus, over the next couple of days, Jiang Mian didn’t participate in any further cases, focusing entirely on handing over his existing work. Everyone at the firm knew he was leaving.
Most felt nothing about it. A few even thought it was for the best. After all, someone like Jiang Mian, who got in through “connections” and was fought over by senior lawyers to mentor him on cases, was bound to attract some resentment, no matter how outstanding his grades were.
But Li Yue felt somewhat wistful about Jiang Mian’s departure.
He genuinely admired Jiang Mian. From his perspective, Jiang Mian’s personality was indeed unsuitable for social networking, but when it came to work, his meticulousness was truly impeccable.
Yet, whether Jiang Mian’s stubborn and principled nature was ultimately good or bad, even Li Yue couldn’t say for sure.
And while everyone else assumed Jiang Mian was leaving the firm in a fit of pique, Li Yue was the only one who thought Jiang Mian probably wouldn’t pursue the lawyer’s path in the future.
He didn’t know why he felt this way, but he felt Jiang Mian was someone with strong principles who would never lower his bottom line.
Back in the parking lot, Jiang Mian had still been hesitating, hadn’t yet decided. But once he made a decision, he would likely follow that path to the end, without looking back or ever regretting it.
So, on Jiang Mian’s last day at work, Li Yue patted him on the shoulder. “Although I don’t know if you’re planning to aim for judge or prosecutor, whatever it is, I wish you success in achieving your goals. Keep it up.”
Jiang Mian nodded and said sincerely, “Thank you.”
Jiang Mian’s handover was quick, so he got off work early.
As he walked past the break room with his bag, he accidentally overheard voices through the slightly ajar door.
It was Lawyer Luo and a few other lawyers chatting loudly inside, talking about his departure.
“He really thinks he’s some young master, the whole world revolves around him.”
“If I were a client, I wouldn’t hire a lawyer like him.”
“As lawyers, we’re supposed to prioritize the client’s interests. Does he think his principled stance makes him look righteous?”
…
Jiang Mian didn’t need to hear his name to know they were talking about him.
Many people at the firm had opinions about him. He sensed it, but he had never taken it to heart.
Jiang Liaoyi had said many people are just passersby in life. There’s no need to dwell on what passersby say.
There was no reason to waste time on such matters.
And in the end, you couldn’t definitively say who was right or wrong. It was just a difference in how they viewed things.
The world wasn’t black and white.
Having gone through this experience, Jiang Mian felt he had gained a new understanding of the legal profession.
There was nothing inherently wrong with being a lawyer; it was just that this path didn’t suit him.
He couldn’t break his own principles.
After returning home, Jiang Mian put his things away and stared at the ticking clock on the table, lost in thought for a moment.
It was past five in the afternoon now, time for dinner.
Normally, he’d order takeout, then open his law codex and memorize articles while waiting, or open his tablet to watch Bar Exam prep videos.
But now, curled up in his soft beanbag chair, Jiang Mian had no desire to move. He just sat there silently watching, until his phone chimed with a “DingDong.”
Jiang Mian slowly fished out his cell phone to see it was from Chen Gu.
[Chen Gu: Judge Jiang or Prosecutor Jiang? Off work yet? Want to grab dinner together?]
He changed the title so quickly.
Jiang Mian thought.
His previously gloomy mood felt like someone had used a giant blow dryer to disperse some of the heavy clouds.
Jiang Mian hadn’t even noticed that his fingertips, when he reached for his phone from the cracks of the beanbag, moved slightly more briskly than before.
[Jiang Mian: Where?]
[Chen Gu: Depends on what you want to eat. Chinese or Western?]
[Jiang Mian: Chinese.]
[Chen Gu: Any specific food you’re craving?]
Jiang Mian didn’t know.
He was currently in a state of wanting everything and nothing at the same time.
He replied, “You decide.” Chen Gu didn’t push him further: “I just saw a new Clay Pot Chicken place opened near my place yesterday. Wanna give it a try?”
Jiang Mian thought back to the last time he had Clay Pot Chicken and instantly felt a craving.
He said okay, and Chen Gu replied, “Then get ready and come downstairs.”
Jiang Mian paused. Smart as he was, he instantly understood. “You’re in our complex’s underground parking lot?”
[Chen Gu: You overestimate me, not that fast. (Panda head sulking • jpg)]
Before Jiang Mian could even exhale in relief, let alone type the first letter ‘B’ for ‘But you didn’t have to come,’ another message from Chen Gu arrived.
[Chen Gu: But I’m almost there, just one more red light.]
Jiang Mian: “…”
So Chen Gu had already been on his way here when he asked if Jiang Mian was off work?
Jiang Mian wasn’t used to making people wait. He could only reply ‘okay’ first, then immediately get up to change clothes.
August in the South Boundary was unbearably hot, so he wore a white tank top with loose-fitting light grey shorts. From the back, he looked lean and slightly frail.
Jiang Mian pocketed his keys and sprayed some mosquito repellent before heading downstairs. His timing was perfect. Chen Gu was just pulling his car into Jiang Liaoyi’s parking spot.
He walked over, now able to naturally take a seat in the passenger side.
Only, while fastening his seatbelt, Jiang Mian didn’t notice Chen Gu’s gaze sweeping over his arms and exposed calves.
Jiang Mian didn’t have much body hair. His arms and calves were slim, fair, and straight. Like a person carved out of white jade, very beautiful.
Chen Gu’s gaze lingered on him a few more times, casually. What kind of thoughts were behind it, only Chen Gu himself knew.
After all, these past few days while painting, Chen Gu had found himself unconsciously painting a pair of Jiang Mian’s eyes, or sometimes his hands, amidst the eerily vibrant colors on his canvases.
Jiang Mian’s hands were also very beautiful—slender and distinctly jointed, flawless, without a single imperfection.
But…
As Chen Gu watched Jiang Mian turn his head to grab the seatbelt, he noticed for the first time a very faint, pale reddish mole behind Jiang Mian’s right ear, like a drop of flower nectar fallen onto a white jade plate.
It inexplicably made one’s heart itch.
Jiang Mian looked up after fastening his seatbelt, and Chen Gu smoothly averted his gaze.
A hint of confusion flickered in Jiang Mian’s eyes. Was it his imagination?
Why did it feel like Chen Gu had been staring at him just now?
Once the car was on the road, Jiang Mian finally couldn’t hold it in. “Next time, you can ask first before coming.”
What if he wasn’t free? Wouldn’t Chen Gu have made a wasted trip?
Chen Gu blinked lightly, his tone casual. “I saw the DingDong notification for step count. It showed you walked about a thousand steps during that time slot. I estimated the distance from your company to the subway, then from the subway to your place. It just about matched.”
Jiang Mian paused.
Those words… if not said out loud, could genuinely seem creepy.
But spoken aloud by Chen Gu, most people would just marvel at his cleverness and wouldn’t overthink it.
Even for Jiang Mian, his first reaction was to admire Chen Gu’s sharp mind, and only his second reaction was—Isn’t Chen Gu a bit too…
Jiang Mian pursed his lips.
His nerves were taut again, sounding danger alarms in his head.
Jiang Mian forced himself not to analyze Chen Gu with conspiracy theories. He tried his best to ignore that strange feeling, when he heard Chen Gu ask him, “You got off work pretty early today, huh?”
Working as a lawyer, overtime was normal. Being a legal assistant, it was even more so.
Jiang Mian didn’t hide it. “I quit.”
It wasn’t a secret, and Chen Gu would find out eventually anyway. “I handed over all my work today. I don’t have to go to the office tomorrow.”
Chen Gu curled his lips, but didn’t ask why he quit, nor did he spout any more grand principles. “Does this mean I can ask you out every day from now on?”
Jiang Mian’s natural airheadedness kicked in at this moment, inappropriately yet somehow perfectly, directly deflecting Chen Gu’s direct advance. “No.”
He said seriously, “The Bar Exam is in September or October. I need to study the lectures and memorize legal articles before school starts.”
Chen Gu: “.”
He was slightly exasperated, but looking at Jiang Mian, his temper was somehow at its best ever. “Got it.”
Chen Gu’s low voice carried a smile, his tone intimate. “My Good Student.”
