Chapter 82: You Wouldn’t Have… Taken Advantage of Her While Drunk…

Wen Wan Ning turned around. “Then I’ll prepare the materials for Chuze Band’s court hearing now. Do you have anything else?”

Han Yuchu wore a face full of smiles. “Go ahead and get busy. Call me if you need anything.” With that, he walked toward the door.

His hand had just touched the doorknob when he turned back and said softly, “That said, if it’s convenient, could you ask your brother to come back a bit earlier?”

Wen Wan Ning rolled her eyes at him with a smile. “Got it.”

The door closed behind him. Wen Wan Ning picked up her phone from the side and opened the chat with her cousin Su Fang Yu: [Your little boyfriend hopes you can come back a little sooner.]

She pressed send and looked above that message in the chat history at the photo of Su Fang Yu and Han Yuchu. The two stood in front of a music festival poster, beaming with bright smiles, Han Yuchu’s hand resting naturally on Su Fang Yu’s shoulder.

She suddenly remembered that time in university when she went to Jingbei Media University to watch Shen Jia Yan perform. She watched as Shen Jia Yan poured her emotions out amid the interplay of light and shadow, stunning everyone so much they couldn’t look away. It was also then that Shen Jia Yan had taken her hand and told a classmate who had feelings for her, “I already have someone I like.”

That feeling of her ear tips burning and her heart racing out of control still made her unconsciously purse her lips in a smile even now.

She gazed at the photo of the two on her screen, her fingertip unconsciously rubbing the edge of it.

Sunlight slanted in, falling on the phone and illuminating the unreserved smiles on Su Fang Yu and Han Yuchu’s faces. That tacit understanding of standing side by side, that closeness without need for concealment—it was like a tiny needle pricking the softest corner of her heart.

They were so happy, happy enough that she could hardly look away.

No lies, no hiding.

They could hold hands walking down the street, stand shoulder to shoulder in the sunlight, and wear their love openly and boldly on their faces.

Their smiles were like a mirror, reflecting the deepest longing in her heart.

She wanted to hold Shen Jia Yan’s hand too, walk in the sunlight without dodging, without lying, without treating “love” as a mistake.

She wondered if Shen Jia Yan would give her that chance.

※

While she was in Wen Wan Ning’s car, Shen Jia Yan had already WeChatted the van. After leaving the law firm, she got straight into the waiting vehicle.

Half an hour later, the van pulled into the underground garage, and Shen Jia Yan took the elevator to the studio.

Lin Che, who was passing by the elevator after grabbing coffee, spotted Shen Jia Yan stepping out still wearing yesterday’s clothes.

His forward steps halted. With a sly grin, he said, “Jia Yan’s here,” then sidled up to her and whispered, “Last night, where did Lawyer Wen take you?”

Shen Jia Yan shot him a glare and said nothing, heading straight for the practice room.

Lin Che held his coffee and trailed carefully behind. “Hey, hey, wait for me.”

The two entered the practice room one after another.

Lin Che couldn’t hold back. “Come on, spill it. Where did you two go last night?”

Shen Jia Yan sat on the drum stool and said helplessly, “You’re the one asking? You know I can’t hold my liquor. Why didn’t you make sure I got home safe when I was drunk?”

“You knew about me and Wen Wan Ning, and you still let her take me away.”

“Huh?” Lin Che’s eyes widened slightly. “You don’t mean she…”

“Hiss—” Shen Jia Yan raised her drumstick as if to hit him. “What nonsense are you spouting?”

She let out a light sigh. “She said she couldn’t get my home door password out of me, so she took me back to her place. I don’t remember a thing after getting blackout drunk, but based on what you’ve all told me about my past drunken escapades, I probably just passed out as soon as I got to her house.”

“Tsk tsk tsk, you really don’t remember anything?” Lin Che raised an eyebrow at her.

Shen Jia Yan grew a bit impatient. “If I don’t remember, I don’t remember. Why would I lie to you?”

Lin Che knew Shen Jia Yan’s tolerance—whenever they all went out to eat, they rarely let her drink, and the few times she did, she got wasted without fail. The next day when she sobered up, she’d ask if she’d done anything embarrassing, and they’d tell her she just slept it off, nothing else.

But only Lin Che, who took her home those times, knew that in her muddled state, she’d always mumble incoherently, “Wan Ning, Wan Ning…”

He hadn’t paid attention back then, but now he realized it must have been Wen Wan Ning’s name.

He let out a meaningful “mm,” thought for a moment, and one corner of his mouth curved up. “You wouldn’t have taken advantage of her while drunk and done something to her, then forgotten it all when you sobered up, right?”

“You…” Shen Jia Yan started to retort but choked on his words, her cheeks flushing red in an instant. She wanted to say “no way,” but the words caught at her lips.

Her last memory before blacking out last night was leaning into Wen Wan Ning’s embrace, and it seemed like she’d said something, but she really couldn’t recall.

Had she done something? Probably not. She remembered that when she woke up, aside from her outer coat, all her other clothes were still on.

She shook her head immediately. What messy thoughts was she having? Even if she had done something, it wouldn’t have gone as far as taking off clothes.

Last night’s memories were shrouded in thick fog, with only fragmented images surfacing: the strength of Wen Wan Ning’s arm supporting her, the faint lavender scent when she leaned on her shoulder, and… a blurry whisper, “I miss you so much…”

She froze stiffly.

Had she said that? She wasn’t sure.

But if she had, had Wen Wan Ning heard it?

Lin Che was still grinning mischievously beside her, sizing her up. “Well? Any fragmented memories popping up? Did you steal a kiss? Or something even more intimate?”

“Don’t talk nonsense!” Shen Jia Yan swatted him, her voice weak. “I-I was drunk. What could I have done?”

“Oh~~~” Lin Che dragged out the sound. “But deep down, that’s what you wanted to do, huh.”

“Lin Che!” Shen Jia Yan flew into a rage from embarrassment and grabbed the sheet music nearby to hurl at him.

Lin Che dodged laughing heartily, then came back over. Suddenly serious, he said, “But for real, Jia Yan, you were that drunk last night, and Lawyer Wen still got you home safe and took care of you. That means she cares about you.”

Shen Jia Yan’s movements paused, the sheet music hovering in midair.

She could feel Wen Wan Ning’s care and attention, but that didn’t prove anything. After all, she’d once thought their bond was one of unreserved intimacy, but what happened later? A confession that went nowhere, her one-sided wishful thinking.

Care could be the goodwill of old friends; looking after someone could just be an extension of duty. Like how Wen Wan Ning was handling the Tide Line copyright case for her—maybe it was just professional ethics, or compensation for the past.

She didn’t dare equate “caring” with “love” so easily anymore.

The difference between “caring” and “love” wasn’t a confession—it was the courage and choice for the rest of their lives.

She was afraid that this time, Wen Wan Ning’s actions were just out of guilt, that all her gentleness was merely repayment for what she “owed” her.

After a moment, she set the sheet music back down, her voice calm to the point of detachment. “Enough about that. Let’s practice.”

She tapped the drumsticks lightly against her palm twice, as if knocking away the chaotic fragments in her mind.

Lin Che looked at her, shrugged, and stopped teasing.

The practice room lights came on, cold white light spilling across the drumheads, casting the profile of her head bent in tuning. She tightened the drumheads one by one, her fingertips pressing hard, as if suppressing some emotion.

※

Tuesday afternoon, in Chuze Studio’s practice room.

Yang Han walked in and sat on the sofa. “I remember Lawyer Wen telling me that Jia Yan needs to appear in court tomorrow. My memory’s really shot these days—I’ll confirm with her again later.”

Shen Jia Yan frowned at her. “Han-jie, don’t we already have a lawyer on retainer? Do I really have to go myself?”

Just as she spoke, her phone vibrated.

She looked down. A WeChat notification from Wen Wan Ning popped up.

[Jia Yan, court starts at 9 a.m. tomorrow. I’ll wait for you at the courthouse.]

“You’ve got a point,” Yang Han said while scrolling her phone. “I’ll ask Lawyer Wen.”

Shen Jia Yan held her phone. “No need, Han-jie. She just messaged me. I’ll ask her directly.”

“Sure.”

With a strictly businesslike attitude, she typed: [Lawyer Wen, do I really need to appear in person tomorrow? Can’t we just authorize the lawyer fully?]

No WeChat reply came, but her phone suddenly rang.

An unfamiliar number with no name saved, but Shen Jia Yan knew it by heart—it was Wen Wan Ning’s.

She’d originally blocked it, but when she added Wen Wan Ning back on WeChat that morning, she’d “conveniently” unblocked the number too.

For work contact.

“Hello.”

“Jia Yan.” Unlike their face-to-face talks, it was that familiar voice that had accompanied her through hundreds of nights, laced with static—soft, clear, as if emerging from the depths of memory.

“Mm.” Shen Jia Yan suppressed the surging emotions in her heart and responded curtly.

From the receiver came Wen Wan Ning’s gentle voice. “You need to appear in court for tomorrow’s hearing.”

Shen Jia Yan paused, then asked flatly, “Why?”

“Why” again. Those three words were like an invisible wall between them.

She wasn’t asking why she specifically had to appear, but why did you have to pull me close to you again?

Why won’t you let me go?

On the other end, Wen Wan Ning fell silent for a moment.

In that brief void, countless unspoken words seemed to surge through the static like tides crashing against rocks, eroding five years of silence.

Personally, she desperately wanted to see her, seizing every opportunity. Professionally, the hearing tomorrow truly required the party’s presence.

She gathered her emotions and explained calmly, “In general civil litigation, once a lawyer is retained, the party doesn’t need to appear personally—the lawyer can handle it. But in cases involving personal identity, like confirming copyright ownership, the party must appear. Music copyright disputes fall under civil cases, but when confirming rights like authorship and naming—which are personal rights—per the Civil Procedure Law, the party must appear in person to explain key facts like creative intent and naming circumstances.”

“That’s the reason.”

Law wasn’t Shen Jia Yan’s field, but she trusted Wen Wan Ning’s expertise and her explanation.

Since it was all business, she couldn’t afford to be difficult. “Okay, I’ll be at the courthouse by 8 a.m. tomorrow.”

On the other end, Wen Wan Ning’s lips curved up slightly. “Good. See you tomorrow.”