DF Chapter 42

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She smiled slightly, “Doctor mode then.”

Zhen Yi leaned back into the soft recliner, her mind hazy. The floor-to-ceiling windows were open, the curtains fluttering lightly, and outside, the grass stretched far into the distance. The cherry blossoms were at the end of their bloom, and as the wind blew, the petals gently fell, covering the steps and floor, some landing at her feet.

“How do you feel at this moment?” Yan Ge sat in the chair next to her, gazing out at the blue sky with her.

“Very relaxed.” She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again.

“What kind of relaxation?”

“Like, after being completely exhausted, I can finally rest.” She let out a long breath.

“Is your body tired?”

“No, my heart is tired. So tired… that I want to cry.” She struggled to keep her voice steady.

Yan Ge turned his head to look at her. She stared at the clouds in the sky, her expression frozen. He asked softly, “Is there something you can’t let go of?”

What was it? It seemed to be something from her distant elementary school days. After the fire, although her mother was severely injured, she survived and lay in a hospital bed. That day, little Zhen Yi was finally able to walk on her own. She sat by the bed, fearfully looking at her mother, whose leg had been amputated, a terrifying sight. Her mother’s voice was hoarse as she said, “Xiao Yi, be good, see if there’s anyone selling lychees outside the hospital. Mommy wants some lychees.”

“Oh.” She slid off the stool, her left arm in a cast, awkwardly walking over to the window, standing on tiptoes to look outside. The streets of Deep City were lined with lush green trees, so beautiful. Ah, she saw a fruit vendor.

“There is! I want some too.”

“Go buy some for Mommy.”

“Oh.” She took the money and went downstairs to buy the lychees.

A small bag, fresh and juicy. She carried the bag, scratching at her itch as she walked. The cast on her left arm was so itchy. Scratch, scratch. She wanted to eat one, but couldn’t peel it with one hand, so she hurried back to her mother.

Suddenly, people around her started screaming. Something fell from above, hitting the ground with a loud, dull thud. She looked down and saw her mother’s eyes, having fallen out of their sockets. The next second, an adult rushed over to cover her eyes and carried her away.

Leaving first is always better. Those left behind are the ones who suffer the most.

Yan Ge asked, “Do you feel like your mother’s death was your fault?”

“I was disobedient and not cute. My mother didn’t like me. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to bear leaving me by jumping.”

“No, Zhen Yi,” he said gently. “When you’re a child, you think of everything from a self-centered perspective. Whatever happens, you try to find a reason within yourself. When something can’t be explained, you assume it’s your fault. But that’s not how things really work.”

That experience undoubtedly left Zhen Yi with a bad impression: whenever misfortune happened, she would take the blame onto herself.

“Isn’t it? But this time…” Zhen Yi struggled to speak, but the bitter pain in her throat choked her, making her feel suffocated.

She furrowed her brows deeply and closed her eyes, “If I hadn’t exposed her, maybe Song Yi wouldn’t have killed herself!”

Yan Ge silently looked into the distance. Only when Zhen Yi’s breathing returned to normal did he speak, “There are many things in this world that are beyond our control. You did your best, and that’s enough. As for the outcome, don’t blame anyone, including yourself. Zhen Yi, you have to understand, this wasn’t your fault.” His voice was so gentle, as if he were speaking to one of his patients.

Hearing his words, the tension in her brow gradually eased, and she felt a sense of peace. Slowly, she opened her eyes and stared blankly at the cherry blossom tree outside the window.

She said tiredly, “I don’t know if I did enough, but I really tried. Only I know how many threats and obstacles I faced along the way, how much darkness I saw. I kept telling myself this is my profession, that at least I can fight against those forces. Even if I’m not a police officer, I want to be a good lawyer. That’s what I’ve always believed. But this time, I defended the real murderer, trying to get her acquitted. Looking back, I feel lost, like something has been overturned. I sympathized with her, wanted to save her, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that she was the murderer.”

After listening, Yan Ge asked, “Have you always been this concerned about who the murderer is?”

“I used to be a cop, it’s like a professional quirk.”

“But now your profession is being a lawyer.”

She tilted her head to look at him. His gaze was clear, like obsidian. She turned her eyes back to the sky, “Yes. I’m a contradiction. I want to do everything to protect my client, but deep down, I hope they aren’t the culprit.”

He said, “Zhen Yi, if you keep practicing law this way, it’s going to be very painful for you.”

Zhen Yi was slightly stunned. Was he concerned about her? Right now, was he a doctor or a friend?

“What about you? If your client were guilty, wouldn’t you feel burdened?”

“No.”

“That’s just your personality,” she said, pouting.

“It has nothing to do with personality, Zhen Yi.” He slowed his pace, turning his head to look at her. “I don’t agree with a single word you’ve said, but I will defend to the death your right to express those thoughts.”

Zhen Yi’s heart skipped a beat. “Voltaire?”

Years ago, Yan Ge had a fondness for philosophy. Zhen Yi, following his lead, had spent hours with him in the library and had remembered a few quotes haphazardly.

“Good memory.” His lips twitched slightly, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “If you want, remember this: ‘What governs the legal profession isn’t the lawyer’s morality, but the system.’ You might find it easier that way.”

Zhen Yi was momentarily speechless. It was as if something soft had gently nudged her heart, warming and soothing her.

She didn’t know how he had this ability—just a few words could reach straight into her soul.

Understanding that comes without noise or effort—that kind of thing, and that kind of person, aren’t something everyone gets to encounter.

But… what a pity. Why hadn’t they ended up together? Why had she let go of his hand?

Zhen Yi’s chest felt tight, her eyes misting with tears. She quietly took a deep breath and closed her eyes again. This time, she really did feel a little sleepy. Yan Ge, seeing that she hadn’t spoken for a long time, turned back to look at her, and by then, her face had relaxed into peaceful slumber, her breathing soft.

He had never seen her this calm before. He lowered his gaze, watching her quietly for a long time.

Even after so many years, her appearance hadn’t changed much. Her eyebrows curved gently, her eyelashes long, her skin pale like translucent porcelain—she never blushed. The skin on her neck was as delicate as jade, giving off a subtle feeling of cool warmth.

The wind blew in from the window, cool and gentle. The floor was scattered with tiny petals. A few steps away, there was the blue sky, the wind rustling through the treetops, birds chirping…

In her hazy state, Zhen Yi felt someone cover her with a thin blanket. She knew it was Yan Ge.

Yan Ge, the boy who didn’t talk much but was always a good listener.

As she grew older, she realized that most people around her were absorbed in talking about themselves, but rarely listened to others; that society praised eloquence and public speaking, while forgetting the importance of listening; and that his ability to listen was truly rare.