Volume One Chapter 1: Five Years Behind Bars—Her Return

Yu Jin never expected to encounter Zhou Jin Cheng again so soon—on the second day after her release from prison.

She needed to file a lawsuit and had contacted a well-known local law firm, Capital Heng Law Office. She had made an appointment with a female attorney, only to be told that the woman was away on a business trip. Yu Jin wanted to obtain custody of Xiao Jing from her cousin; it couldn’t be settled privately, so the matter would have to go to court.

To Yu Jin, any lawyer would do—so long as she could win the case. Anyone except the man before her now, Zhou Jin Cheng.

She pushed open the door, and at the moment she saw him, she froze. Her heart stopped, as if all the blood in her body had turned cold. She couldn’t breathe; the heart that had long lain dormant now throbbed with pain.

The lawyer before her, Zhou Jin Cheng, was the biological father of her daughter. Of course, he didn’t know. In fact, Zhou Jin Cheng hadn’t even recognized her.

In the minimalist black-and-white office, Zhou Jin Cheng sat at his desk, carrying an air of dignified detachment. His short, neat black hair, prominent brow, and angular face gave him striking features. The tailored dark suit accentuated his broad shoulders and long legs, his figure standing even taller, while the frameless glasses shaded his narrow, cool eyes with a strict, ascetic chill.

“Your case will be handled by me from now on,” he said. “If you have further questions, contact me anytime. Here’s my card.”

His slender, well-defined fingers pressed a pristine white business card forward across the desk, his neatly trimmed nails shining with a healthy pink. As he withdrew his hand, another delicate hand reached over to take the card.

It was a woman’s hand: slender, with prominent bones, skin stretched over them, the blue veins on the back clearly visible.

Standing at the desk, the woman’s long, black, gently wavering hair fell softly across her chest, the fluffy strands hiding half her face. Her exposed eyes were large and vacant, her small, upturned nose high, and her plump cherry lips cracked and pale, almost blending into her fair skin.

She wore a fitted white crew-neck tee, light blue straight jeans, white canvas shoes with thin soles, and carried a faded, washed-out backpack over her shoulder.

Zhou Jin Cheng looked at her twice. Her age and attire didn’t match; perhaps she hadn’t yet adapted to life outside after so long in prison. She was thin and frail, her face pure—if it weren’t for the paternity test in her hand, no one would believe she had a four-year-old daughter.

“I made an appointment with Attorney Bai,” Yu Jin said, placing the card back on the desk without a word. Her voice was slightly hoarse, the final syllables trembling if one listened closely.

Zhou Jin Cheng assumed she minded having a male lawyer; many women who had served time were reluctant to deal with men after release, feeling safer among other women.

“If Attorney Bai returns soon, I’ll have her take over your case.”

“I can wait,” Yu Jin blurted, cutting him off mid-sentence.

To her surprise, he didn’t say anything more. Instead, he suddenly looked up, meeting her eyes with calm composure.

In that instant, Yu Jin’s fingers curled around the edge of the table, and she hastily avoided his gaze.

She had lost seventy pounds in prison; from a hundred sixty to ninety. It wasn’t strange he couldn’t recognize her. But one’s gaze is not altered by weight.

“All right. When Attorney Bai returns, I’ll have her contact you immediately,” Zhou Jin Cheng replied, reading the meaning behind her words—she’d rather wait for a female lawyer.

Her evasive look was a sign of inner fear. He misunderstood, thinking she feared male lawyers, perhaps related to her crime.

She was unwilling to explain, and he didn’t ask.

“Thank you,” Yu Jin said, head lowered, thick lashes concealing her perpetually damp eyes, her tone icy.

Zhou Jin Cheng glimpsed her lowered head out of the corner of his eye, his hand paused on the silver-gray mouse, his other hand resting on the desk, fingers curled, tapping lightly.

Behind the frameless glasses, his cool black eyes shifted from a sweeping glance to a focused gaze.

Yu Jin felt his scrutiny and turned, walking quickly away. She’d barely gone two steps when his deep, calm voice sounded again behind her.

“Your name is Yu Jin?”

Yu Jin stiffened, her back to him, replying in a small voice just loud enough for him to hear.

She bit her lip, her palm damp, breath completely stilled, the air around her seeming to freeze.

Her name was on the information sheet—hadn’t he seen it?

“Is there a problem with my name, Attorney Zhou?” She steadied herself, voice composed.

Zhou Jin Cheng looked at Yu Jin standing by the door, seeing another woman’s shadow overlap with hers, never quite merging. He frowned, took off his glasses with one hand, massaged his brow with the other, speaking idly: “That surname is rare in Jing City.”

“My hometown is Pu City. Everyone in the village has the surname Yu,” Yu Jin answered briskly, her footsteps fading away.

She was right; Pu City had many people surnamed Yu, at least twenty villages in total.

Zhou Jin Cheng closed his eyes briefly, picked up his frameless glasses, and put them back on.

He rarely spoke so much with clients, and his conversations usually concerned only legal matters.

He had noticed Yu Jin because her eyes resembled someone else’s—Chu Nan Qing, his first love.

Only the eyes were similar; the face and figure were not.

Chu Nan Qing should still be serving her sentence at the Women’s Prison in the west of the city. She had been sentenced to six years, and this was only her fifth.

He himself had been the plaintiff’s lawyer, using laws and evidence to personally ensure her imprisonment; how could he forget how many years she’d been sentenced to?

She had a year left—how could she be here?

Yu Jin herself didn’t know how she left Capital Heng Law Office. She walked quickly, as if pursued by flood or beasts.

Her shoelaces came undone, she tripped and fell, then scrambled up from the ground.

She didn’t stop to tie her laces, letting them drag through the dirt, stumbling away, clutching the wall for support.

Each breath brought stabbing pain to her chest, her throat, nose, and eyes aching with sourness.

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping along her pointed chin and slender neck, soaking into her collarbone, wetting the thin shirt at her neck.

“Hello, Attorney Bai, this is Yu Jin. We spoke before. I don’t want to change lawyers—may I ask when you’ll return to the country?”

She dialed the number, and the person paused for a few seconds, clearly trying to recall who she was.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be back. The soonest would be half a year. I can’t help with your case.”

“My colleague, Attorney Zhou Jin Cheng, is an excellent lawyer. He’s never lost a case; you can completely trust him.”

Listening to the busy tone after the call ended, Yu Jin felt her heart sink to the bottom, and she laughed at herself. Of course she could “trust” him.

Yes, Zhou Jin Cheng had never lost a case in his entire career—including the one where he sent his own girlfriend to prison, without a shred of hesitation.

Her memories stretched back, recalling their last meeting in court four years ago.

She was in handcuffs and shackles, her face haggard, hair in disarray, wearing a dark blue prison uniform, flanked by armed police.

Zhou Jin Cheng, the plaintiff’s lawyer, attended in a tailored suit, his expression cold and utterly unflinching, as if he didn’t know her.

By then, she was already pregnant with their daughter, Yu Jing, though neither of them knew it. And thankfully, he never found out.

Regaining custody of Yu Jing from her cousin Yu Zhu would be difficult, but there was still a glimmer of hope.

If Zhou Jin Cheng were involved, Yu Jin didn’t dare imagine. As a star lawyer, he had all the means to ensure she would never win custody—not even in death.