The Divorce Lawyer Is Very Hard To Flirt With - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Come True

—Yes, the moment the male and female leads meet, a gentle breeze blows, and flower petals drift down through the sky. When their eyes meet, it’s like time slows down. Their every move exudes boundless charm, as if a spotlight is shining on them.

Ying Zhi’an frowned as she took the stained white shirt to the dry cleaners. The auntie at the dry cleaner’s mumbled as she accepted the garment, “The rest is perfectly clean, it’s just the stain right here on the chest. I’ll do my best to get it out.”

Ying Zhi’an nodded. “Thank you for your trouble.”

She hadn’t even worn it properly. She had specifically changed into this new shirt for today’s court session. It wasn’t that she was superstitious, but ever since she started handling cases independently, she made it a point to wear new clothes under her lawyer’s robe. It was both a personal ritual and a reminder to take every case seriously, hoping at the same time that the opposing counsel wouldn’t approach the legal relationship from an unreasonable angle.

But who would have thought something so bizarre would happen!

The moment she thought back to what happened, Ying Zhi’an’s brow furrowed again.

Great. The first time her heart raced, it was combined with Zhang Zhang’s “slow-motion shot.” This bizarre thing really happened! Ying Zhi’an found it unbelievable. As she recalled the scene, she wondered if her memory was flawed.

“Did I not sleep well yesterday? Am I seeing things? Or am I having a mental lapse?” Ying Zhi’an pursed her lips. In broad daylight, in a densely populated city center, and as a staunch Party member! It couldn’t possibly be a ghost!

And as if to confirm that the scene in the elevator had indeed been real, the woman with the backpack appeared again on Ying Zhi’an’s way back to her office.

This time, she was following behind Luo Qingcheng, one of the firm’s partners. Luo Qingcheng was her senior from the same political science and law university. They often met up with Jiang Chao, which felt like a small alumni gathering. Naturally, they were closer than other colleagues. Seeing Ying Zhi’an, Luo Qingcheng spoke without ceremony, “Zhi’an, this is the new intern lawyer. Your mentor requested her. Take her with you; it saves me a trip.”

Luo Qingcheng pointed to Ying Zhi’an: “Song Xidan, this is Lawyer Ying Zhi’an. She mainly handles divorce cases now. You should go with her. Oh, and remember to go to the first floor of the office building to register your facial information for the facial recognition system. Get your access card from them, too, or you won’t even be able to press the floor buttons in the elevator. You won’t be able to move an inch in our firm without it.”

“Thank you, Lawyer Luo,” Song Xidan nodded at Luo Qingcheng, then turned her gaze to Ying Zhi’an. “Hello, Lawyer Ying.”

The moment Ying Zhi’an’s eyes shifted from Luo Qingcheng’s face to Song Xidan’s, that eerie phenomenon started up again!

Suddenly, the not-so-bright window outside seemed to cast a beam of light, and that beam landed perfectly on one side of Song Xidan’s face. That young female face looked as if a soft-focus filter had been applied, becoming incredibly warm and gentle. Yet, her brow bone was exceptionally well-formed, and the eyes hidden in that shadow were bright. Her entire face, like her hands, was well-defined, possessing a mix of youthful heroism and girlish innocence.

Ying Zhi’an, however, looked like she had seen a ghost. She frantically looked at Luo Qingcheng. The beam of light by the window immediately vanished, and Luo Qingcheng’s smooth, normal-speed instructions—”We’re a big law firm, the pace is fast, everyone is very busy. Manage your own tempo. It will definitely be hard work, but work hard, young people!”—immediately returned to normal speed.

Ying Zhi’an immediately looked back at Song Xidan. The beam of light lit up again, and Luo Qingcheng’s voice slowed down to 0.5 speed: “Zhi~ an~ ah~ your~ men~ tor~ hasn’t~ taken~ on~ new~ peo~ ple~ in~ a~ long~ time,~ may~ be~ she’s~ hand~ ing~ her~ ov~ er~ to~ you~ to~ train.”

Accompanied by Luo Qingcheng’s 0.5-speed laughter, Song Xidan gave Ying Zhi’an another smile. When she smiled, her eyes curved into a “crescent moon,” instantly hitting Ying Zhi’an’s sweet spot. At that moment, Ying Zhi’an vaguely understood the feeling men had when looking at sweet girls.

When not smiling, she was valiant and spirited; when she smiled, she was sweet like a summer slushie. Too sweet!

She couldn’t help but hold her breath, and her heart began to beat wildly out of control again!

A never-before-felt excitement and thrill seemed to burst forth in her blood, screaming: So cute! So sweet! I want to kiss her lips!

Kiss her lips my ass! What the hell! The moment the thought appeared, Ying Zhi’an snapped back to awareness, barely suppressing the swear word that nearly slipped out.

Realizing that something was seriously wrong, Ying Zhi’an averted her gaze and looked at the potted plants in the corridor. Sure enough, everything was back to normal.

“What’s wrong? Bad mood? I’ve been rambling so much, and you haven’t responded.” Luo Qingcheng was a typical ENFP personality. Even as a firm partner, he was enthusiastic and sensitive, easily noticing other people’s emotions.

Hearing Luo Qingcheng’s voice return to normal speed, Ying Zhi’an sighed slowly. “Fine, I’ll take her over. You go handle your work.”

“Alright, didn’t bring lunch, right? Let’s go out and eat together later.”

Ying Zhi’an was busy focusing on the plants and avoiding Song Xidan’s sight. She gave a perfunctory reply and headed toward the elevator.

Luo Qingcheng watched Ying Zhi’an hurry away and sighed to himself, “No wonder everyone says Lawyer Ying’s reputation is growing and her caseload is increasing. Is Zhi’an going to need to see a psychiatrist soon?”

Luo Qingcheng’s words certainly mirrored Ying Zhi’an’s current state of mental collapse. She escorted the person to her mentor Cheng Qiyun’s office and didn’t dare to stay an extra second. “Mentor, she said you requested her. I’m going back to work now.”

Cheng Qiyun was writing a complaint. She looked up and only saw Ying Zhi’an’s retreating back.

“That girl,” Cheng Qiyun chuckled. She was almost sixty and had a daughter the same age as Ying Zhi’an. Although she had taken over mentoring Ying Zhi’an halfway through her career, she had been very dedicated until Ying Zhi’an could handle cases independently, treating Ying Zhi’an as another daughter.

She currently specialized in criminal cases, and it was rare for a criminal defense lawyer of her age to still be so active. Many lawyers took cases on a whim, but Cheng Qiyun still had to care for her sister with an intellectual disability, so her workload remained very heavy.

Cheng Qiyun turned her attention to Song Xidan. Without needing an introduction, she said warmly and kindly, “Xidan, is that right? Your mother and I have been old friends for many years, so I’m willing to give you this opportunity. I’ve looked at your file. You graduated from such a good law school, so why haven’t you passed the bar exam?”

The bar exam was the other half of a law student’s graduation certificate; many law students spent their entire university life trying to get both.

For large law firms, applicants who weren’t law school graduates were rejected at the resume stage. Not passing the bar exam meant the state didn’t recognize one’s legal qualification. If the two must be compared, the bar exam might be more important in practice, as failing it means no lawyer’s license, and without a license, one cannot be a lawyer.

Graduating from such an excellent political science and law university yet failing the bar exam created a somewhat awkward discrepancy, potentially leading directly to the conclusion, “This person is not capable.”

Therefore, even though she was doing a favor for a friend, Cheng Qiyun’s question was pointed.

Song Xidan, however, showed no awkwardness or resentment. Her emotional stability allowed for a proper answer: “After graduation, I spent three years raising horses. I’ve returned this year and want to see if this line of work suits me.”

“I see. So you haven’t fully decided yet.” Cheng Qiyun remained very gentle, not seeming curious if Song Xidan really went to raise horses, as if she was just making a casual inquiry and wouldn’t be surprised no matter what Song Xidan said she did during those blank years of work experience. “I stopped taking on new people years ago, and your mother doesn’t want you handling criminal cases. I’ll let Lawyer Ying Zhi’an train you. But you need to know that in the legal profession, a mentor opens the door, but practice depends on the individual. It’s common for a mentor not to give you cases; after all, even mentors are colleagues. Lawyer Ying is a good person and very diligent and responsible, but you need to be sharp yourself…”

Ying Zhi’an, who had already returned to her office, had clearly thought of this. Cheng Qiyun had mentioned it recently, saying she was obligated to take someone on due to a request, but she didn’t have the energy to mentor anyone and hoped Ying Zhi’an could help out. When her mentor asked, Ying Zhi’an naturally agreed without hesitation.

It was just training an intern lawyer. She was in high demand right now, with many cases, and she actually hoped to have someone to assist her and lighten her load.

And since Ying Zhi’an started handling cases independently, she hadn’t mentored a single newcomer. Thinking that she could play the role of a mentor for the first time—a new life experience—Ying Zhi’an had hoped for a hardworking and diligent young woman. She hadn’t expected… Song Xidan…

Ying Zhi’an recalled the bizarre scenes. Zhang Zhang’s words surfaced in her mind. For a moment, she doubted the common sense she had accumulated over thirty years. Could falling in love really be like that? Could psychological suggestion manifest physically?!

The more she thought about it, the more she felt her knowledge base was shallow, so she called Zhang Zhang. “When you fell for Jiang Chao, was it also like an idol drama scene?”

Zhang Zhang was lesson planning in her office, utterly confused. “What idol drama scene?”

Ying Zhi’an didn’t dare mention the strange visuals she had just experienced. “Just what you were talking about last night, the slow-motion shot!”

“Hahahahaha,” Zhang Zhang was a girl with a low threshold for laughter. Her peals of laughter were uncontrollable. When she finally stopped, she said teasingly, “My dear Lawyer Ying! Use your toes to think about it—how is that possible? This is real life! How could it happen? Real life isn’t an idol drama. When a man and a woman meet, they just meet, right? So-called destiny is just commonplace. At most, the person’s face suits your taste, and you might glance at them a couple more times in a crowd. Besides, I wasn’t even interested in Jiang Chao at first sight.”

Zhang Zhang looked smug. “It’s just that sometimes when I look back, I might view it with a bit of a filter. Why are you suddenly asking about this? Wait! Did you meet a charming bachelor?”

“No, I just randomly thought of it and asked.”

Good. Her common sense was indeed fine. This was real life. How could a beam of light suddenly shine, and time slow down—things that only post-production video editing could achieve!

The problem wasn’t with common sense; the problem was with herself.

The next second, Ying Zhi’an booked an appointment with a psychologist.

At this point, she still hadn’t realized why the bizarre object of her attraction was a woman.