Chapter 19 – Trouble “No Trouble”

Yan Ankuo wasn’t lying; he had devoured every last drop of the soup that Bian Ji had brought him, not even sparing the garnishes. When he showed the empty bowl to Bian Ji, he was even accused of cheating by possibly disposing of the food.

With the year-end approaching, the fluctuating weather had left many people chilled and under the weather. Huang Xiaoxiao, wearing a mask, was constantly sneezing.

Yan Ankuo, hearing her, turned around with concern. “Are you sick? Should you take leave and go home?”

“No, just a minor cold,” Huang Xiaoxiao said, covering her nose. “Stay away from me, don’t get infected.”

Yan Ankuo followed her advice, putting on his own mask, and continued sorting through the documents on his desk. The case in Kunming for the second trial wasn’t complicated, but due to the change requests and the re-litigation, the list of new evidence was excessively long. This time, the opposing side had hired a new lawyer from a prestigious Beijing law firm known for their aggressive style. Yan Ankuo went online to watch some of the lawyer’s previous court debates and felt it would be a tough opponent, rubbing his temples in frustration.

As usual, he and Huang Xiaoxiao were the last ones to leave the law firm. Yan Ankuo got up to turn off the lights, letting the young woman enter the elevator first. One hand draped over his coat, the other pressed the elevator button.

Before the doors closed, Yan Ankuo suddenly received a text message from Yunnan. The language was foul and disgusting, mostly insults about him taking dirty money, being a mercenary lawyer, and engaging in illicit affairs.

As a lawyer who often dealt with labor lawsuits, such threatening messages were nothing new. With an expressionless face, he blacklisted the number and filed a complaint, pocketed his phone, and asked, “How are you getting home so late?”

“My boyfriend is picking me up,” said Huang Xiaoxiao.

“I’ll wait with you until he arrives,” Yan Ankuo offered, feeling somewhat guilty for making her work overtime and aware of the potential dangers at night.

Huang Xiaoxiao waved her hand while coughing, “He’s already in the garage, it’s fine.”

Yan Ankuo sensed she didn’t want him to accompany her, so he agreed. “Alright, stay safe.”

By the time he drove home from the office, it was nearly one o’clock in the morning. Lying in bed after a shower, he felt a bit dizzy. Yan Ankuo tried to sleep, but the pain in his temples persisted, throbbing rhythmically. He assumed it was due to the extended working hours and struggled to sit up, swallowing a melatonin pill before lying back down, forcing himself to sleep.

The pain grew more intense, and Yan Ankuo tossed and turned all night, finding no relief.

The next morning, he went to work as usual, but as the day progressed, he felt increasingly unwell. Touching his forehead, he was alarmed by its heat and quickly took his temperature with the thermometer from his medicine kit — it read 38.9 degrees Celsius.

His immediate reaction was that he couldn’t make it to court today. Yan Ankuo hurriedly arranged adjustments to his schedule on his phone, first informing Huang Xiaoxiao about several deadlines, then rescheduling with the court and police station contacts, and handling urgent emails before finding fever-reducing medication to take.

Huang Xiaoxiao expressed concern. “Didn’t I really infect you? How could your fever be so high? You should go to the hospital right away?”

“It’s alright, I’ve taken my medicine. I’ll rest in the break room for a while, there’s still a meeting to attend in two hours,” Yan Ankuo rubbed his temples, pulling open the door to the break room.

Huang Xiaoxiao was puzzled. “Can’t you reschedule the meeting?”

“No, there are too many participating clients, and scheduling is difficult.” Yan Ankuo waved his hand. “It’s fine, I’ll head home after the meeting.”

In the legal profession, besides requiring outstanding courtroom skills, the ability to serve clients was also crucial, after all, cases were the lifeblood of the business. Working through minor injuries was normal.

Huang Xiaoxiao had no choice but to comfort him. “Then you should rest quickly.”

Yan Ankuo locked the break room, drew the curtains, and fell into a deep sleep on the fold-out bed.

As the alarm rang, the phone also rang — it was Bian Ji calling.

Drenched in sweat from his nap and fever, Yan Ankuo saw the number and answered without much thought.

Bian Ji sounded like he had just gotten off a plane, wind audible in the background. “Attorney Yan, I’ve returned from New York and brought you some local specialties. When do you have time to pick them up?”

“How about next time?” Yan Ankuo, half-reclining on the bed, breathed heavily. “I’m not feeling well today.”

Bian Ji was passing through the express lane with his luggage when he heard this, pausing in his steps.

Knowing Yan Ankuo, he understood that this man was strong-willed and aloof, not one to explain much. Even if faced with health issues, he would simply say “I have something going on today.” Therefore, Bian Ji actually perceived a hint of deliberate softness from the short phrase “not feeling well.”

“What happened?” Bian Ji asked anxiously. “Your voice sounds different.”

“Just a slight fever, I just woke up,” Yan Ankuo cleared his throat. “Am I hoarse?”

“Seems a bit, your voice doesn’t sound quite right.” Bian Ji frowned, starting a series of questions. “Where are you? Have you taken any medicine? What’s your temperature now? Should you visit the clinic?”

Yan Ankuo chuckled helplessly. “Which question should I answer first?”

Bian Ji realized he was panicking out of concern and chose the most important question. “Have you taken your temperature?”

“Just did, it’s 38, dropped a little.”

“Thirty-eight degrees and you call that a drop? Why don’t you go to the fever clinic?”

“No need, we’ll see in the afternoon.” Yan Ankuo, as if intent on driving someone crazy, deliberately added, “I still have a meeting to attend.”

Bian Ji’s volume suddenly rose. “You’re still attending meetings like this? Where are you, at Hengtian, right? Wait, I’m coming to find you now!”

Yan Ankuo didn’t try to stop him, nor did he think to. He forced himself to get up, washed his face in the bathroom, changed into dry clothes, and sat in front of the computer to start the video conference.

The video conference wasn’t long. After discussing the demands and required materials, Bian Ji arrived downstairs at Hengtian. He sent a message to Yan Ankuo. “Can I come up?”

While Yan Ankuo was sharing documents, he replied on his own phone. “Let me inform the receptionist.”

Bian Ji waited for a moment before approaching the receptionist. “Is Attorney Yan here?”

The receptionist, clearly having been notified, nodded with a smile. “Yes, I’ll take you upstairs.”

Bian Ji had rushed over so urgently that he hadn’t even changed out of his uniform, still dragging his suitcase along. The receptionist assumed he was a major client looking for Attorney Yan and treated him courteously, leading him into the guest room and saying, “Attorney Yan is in that meeting room. Please wait here for a moment, he should be finished in about fifteen minutes.”

Bian Ji nodded his thanks, sitting bored in the reception area, sampling the coffee and fruit provided by the law firm.

Hengtian was famous for handling marriage, inheritance, and financial cases, putting considerable effort into client selection. Even the office decor was primarily minimalist and atmospheric in shades of black and gray, making one feel inexplicably chilly inside.

Bian Ji, dressed in his deep blue uniform, stood out with his bright yellow striped cuffs in this style of decor.

Through the glass door, a few interns secretly peeked in, whispering. “Is the person in the guest room your team’s client?”

“I don’t know, maybe a new client?”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Regardless of who he is, holy shit! He’s so handsome!”

“He seems to be looking for Attorney Yan.”

“Huh?”

As they spoke, the meeting room door opened. Everyone scattered, returning to their work.

Yan Ankuo emerged, his body weakened by illness, coughing behind a mask, showing signs of fatigue beneath his eyes, yet still impeccably dressed in a suit, with a straight posture.

Seeing him from afar, Bian Ji held open the glass door for him, asking, “Feeling better?”

“Why are you here in your uniform?” Yan Ankuo didn’t answer, offering him a mask, standing at a distance. “So anxious?”

Bian Ji said, “You’re this sick, how can I not be worried? How are you now, still running a high fever?”

“It should have subsided, I broke out in a sweat during the meeting.” Yan Ankuo pointed to the medicine cabinet. “The thermometer is there.”

“I’ll get it!” Bian Ji got up, grabbed it, and aimed it at Yan Ankuo’s skin. “Lift your head.”

After a beep, Bian Ji stared at the display screen, sighing in relief. “Good, it’s dropping, down to 37.5 degrees.”

“It’s fine, I’m feeling much better now.” Yan Ankuo coughed again.

Bian Ji frowned. “What about lunch?” Yan Ankuo shook his head.

Bian Ji fumed. “Just as I expected!” As if by magic, he pulled out a bag of takeout. “Come, have some porridge, I ordered it on the way.”

Perhaps delirious from the fever, Yan Ankuo actually slumped onto the table, protesting softly. “No appetite.”

The lawyer’s suit fit perfectly, his shirt collar slightly open, his bangs dampened by sweat. Bian Ji looked at him sympathetically, speaking gently. “Loss of appetite with a fever is normal, but you need to eat something, how else will you replenish your energy?”

The usually unflappable Attorney Yan, who had appeared completely fine during the video conference, suddenly seemed weak and unable to fend for himself, leaning against the wall, shaking his head weakly. “Really no strength.”

Bian Ji made a casual joke. “Well, tough luck, I can’t feed you, can I?”

Thinking it was just a joke, he was surprised when Yan Ankuo immediately agreed. “Trouble you.”

“?” Bian Ji almost bit his tongue. “…Not, not troublesome.”