When Jiang Li looked up and saw Song Yu, a flicker of panic ran through her—quick, private, the sort of unease she hated exposing.
Her pride bristled; she didn’t want anyone peering into her life.
“What’s it to you?” Jiang Yi sneered, scanning Song Yu with disdain. “Jiang Li is my sister. Our family affairs aren’t for you to meddle in.”
Song Yu’s expression didn’t change. “I don’t involve myself in other people’s family business,” he said evenly, “but assault is a crime. I can have the police take you in.”
Color drained from Jiang Yi’s face. He shot one violent look at Jiang Li, then bolted as if the ground had opened beneath him.
Watching his retreating back, Jiang Li thought of his offhand remark about his bank card being frozen. Something about it didn’t sit right with her.
“You in trouble?” Song Yu asked softly.
She blinked and smoothed her face back into calm. “Everyone has their own problems,” she answered breezily, clearly not wanting to dwell on it.
Song Yu’s eyes lingered on her for a moment before drifting away. “But constant indulgence of a family member isn’t always wise,” he said with a touch of gravity.
“I know. Thanks, Lawyer Song.” She added casually, “Were you here looking for Xiao Yanzhi?”
Song Yu pursed his lips and gave a faint smile. “Why—couldn’t I be looking for you?”
Jiang Li stiffened, remembering Xiao Yanzhi’s earlier cold barb. She replied with careful formality, “There’s no special relationship between me and Lawyer Song. He wouldn’t come out of his way for me.”
From her clipped words, Song Yu seemed to piece something together and asked with mild curiosity, “Did Ah Yan say something to you?”
“No.” She answered sharply. “I have nothing else to do here; I’m going back. If there’s anything, you can call him.”
As she turned to leave, Song Yu called after her. “Jiang Li—this time I really am here to see you.”
...
A short walk from Jiangyu’s building there was a quiet café with few customers. Jiang Li listened as Song Yu explained what he’d come to discuss, and her brow tightened.
It concerned the fallout from the recent public controversy around her and Song Yu. To prevent any nosy parties from digging into things, Jiang Li would have to sign an employment agreement with Song’s law firm—proof that Song Yu was indeed her retained counsel.
“Sorry about that. The firm’s doing this to protect itself,” Song Yu said with a small smile. He lowered his eyes to the plain iced Americano in front of her and teased, “Don’t you find this stuff bitter?”
“Used to it,” she muttered, half a shrug, while her mind kept turning over his words. Before, signing a form would have been no big deal. But after Xiao Yanzhi’s cutting remarks, she found it hard to meet Song Yu’s eyes without tension.
When she fell silent, Song Yu went on, a trace of amusement in his tone. “Last time when I joked with Ah Yan, I didn’t think he’d bring other girls along.”
His voice was calm and unobtrusive. “Don’t worry—I’m engaged. We’ll probably be married by the end of next year. I’ll send you an invitation.”
Only then did Jiang Li finally relax. Her smile looked more genuine. “Alright. I’ll come to your wedding.”
The conversation lightened, and they drifted into small talk. Halfway through, Jiang Li remembered something and asked, “Lawyer Song, I have a few legal questions. Suppose I want to start my own talent agency—what do I need to prepare?”
Song Yu’s interest was piqued; he gave her a quick, appraising look. “Thinking of going independent?”
She said nothing. Everyone could see how precarious her situation had become; if she didn’t find another way out, she might be trapped. Before she could explain, Song Yu continued, matter-of-fact.
“You don’t need much to start an agency—a licensed manager and enough capital. With the contacts and resources you have, it shouldn’t be hard. I can help with the legal side.”
He shifted tone slightly. “But everything depends on your current contract.”
Jiang Li’s gaze snapped up.
“You’re still a signed artist under Jiangyu. Any outside profit-making ventures require Xiao Yanzhi’s consent. If you act without it, you’re liable for at least triple damages.”
That last line hit her like a cold hand. She couldn’t even afford a breakup settlement now—how could she possibly pay triple?
Sensing the heaviness, Song Yu tried to reassure her. “You can negotiate a revenue-sharing agreement with him. He’d have no real reason to refuse.”
Jiang Li curled her fingers around her cup. It wasn’t that simple. If Xiao Yanzhi truly agreed to let her do as she wished, why had he suddenly frozen Jiang Yi’s bank card? Still, she didn’t voice the suspicion—Song Yu had known Xiao Yanzhi long; she didn’t want to complicate matters.
They were talking when the café door opened and Xiao Yanzhi walked in with Qin Yaoyao on his arm. Jiang Li instinctively lowered her head—she didn’t want them to see her. Song Yu, however, didn’t hide anything and even called out, “Ah Yan—what a coincidence.”
Xiao glanced over coolly. When his eyes fell on Jiang Li, he only narrowed his brow for a fraction of a second before turning away, as if he would have preferred not to see her at all.
Qin Yaoyao noticed Jiang Li and immediately grew nervous, stealing a look at Xiao. Seeing the distance in his expression, she relaxed. She tightened her grip on his arm and gave Jiang Li and Song Yu a coy little smile, scanning them like a matchmaker.
“Jiang Li and Lawyer Song—are you two on a date?” she asked, all innocent mischief.
For a moment the three of them froze. Xiao’s face remained composed, but his eyes skimmed over Jiang Li with a hint of meaning. “Is that so?”
Jiang Li stood up as if pulled. Her hands clenched at her sides. “You’re mistaken. I was just consulting Lawyer Song about legal matters.”
Song Yu nodded and smiled, calm as ever. “Ms. Qin has it wrong. Jiang Li and I are only friends.”
“Even friends could…grow into something more,” Qin said, playing the busybody with a grin. “I think you two would look good together. Right, Ah Yan?”
Xiao’s gaze swept slowly across Jiang Li’s face. He let out a soft huff that tasted of contempt. “She’s not worthy of Song Yu.”