The Company

Chapter 32: Tiger Bone Archer's Ring

Though Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit, humanity ultimately emerged from their transgression. A momentary mistake proves little - recognizing one's error and correcting it is the greatest virtue.

Song Yue stirred from his dazed state, immediately assaulted by sharp pain at the back of his head. It took quite some time for his senses to fully return. What happened? Hadn't he been hit by a car? Could he have been taken to the hospital? Surveying the expanse of white in his vision, Song Yue propped himself up with effort. He remembered attending an interview at Qin Law Firm, and on his way back, a van had run a red light and charged straight toward him. Unable to dodge in time, the last things imprinted in his mind were the screech of brakes and bystanders' screams.

Testing his limbs gingerly, Song Yue counted himself fortunate. Aside from the throbbing at his occiput, nothing else seemed amiss. Apparently, he'd merely fallen to the ground - a silver lining in this misfortune. "Awake? Any discomfort?" A deep voice sounded from beside the hospital bed, startling Song Yue. He turned reflexively, but the abrupt movement sent fresh dizziness washing over him. His vision speckled with static before gradually clearing to reveal the speaker.

When he finally recognized the man, shock rendered him speechless. His lips trembled, the unvoiced "President Qin" dying in his throat. The attempt made him realize how raspy his vocal cords had become - they felt scraped raw by sandpaper, incapable of producing sound. Only then did Song Yue notice he occupied a private hospital suite, the luxurious kind costing over a thousand per night. Having lived modestly all his life, he'd never encountered such extravagance. Was the van driver who hit him wealthy? But that wasn't the main issue - why was Qin Mo, president of Qin Law Firm, keeping vigil at his bedside?

Qin Mo stood as a benchmark figure in their profession. Not yet thirty, he'd already established his own law firm with connections spanning numerous industries, enjoying considerable renown. Unlike traditional firms, Qin Law favored recruiting fresh talent, which had prompted Song Yue to interview there after obtaining his attorney qualification. Yet he never imagined waking from an accident to find Qin Mo at his bedside. Technically, he shouldn't even be considered Qin Mo's employee yet? And the intersection where the incident occurred was quite distant from Qin Law Firm...

Though unnerved by the intense scrutiny, Song Yue mustered his composure to answer the Doctor's questions. Shortly after, two uniformed police officers entered the room. Enduring his headache, Song Yue watched Qin Mo converse with them, the trio's grave expressions suggesting this was no ordinary traffic accident. After a nurse administered an IV drip and the Doctor ordered several tests, Song Yue returned to find the officers gone. Qin Mo sat waiting with solemn demeanor, his first words upon meeting Song Yue's gaze being: "Just who are you?""Song Yue." Song Yue wouldn't forget his own name, answering without hesitation. Recalling their previous conversation, he couldn't help but chuckle wryly, "President Qin, you don't think I got possessed by someone else after a car accident, do you?"

"You know me?" Qin Mo raised his eyebrows in surprise. Song Yue felt somewhat awkward - he had just been interviewed by Qin Mo today. Could this young master Qin be so forgetful that he'd already forgotten him? Yet under Qin Mo's X-ray-like gaze, Song Yue honestly replied, "I just attended an interview at Qin Law Firm today, of course I know you."

"Interview?" Qin Mo was taken aback, staring at Song Yue as if contemplating an unsolved puzzle. After a long moment, he smiled bitterly, "What year do you think it is today?"

"Isn't it 2008?" Song Yue found President Qin's question ridiculous and was uncomfortable with his casual, friend-like tone. He clearly remembered Qin Mo's stern, expressionless face during the interview just hours earlier.

Without a word, Qin Mo picked up a phone from the bedside table, tapped the screen a few times, and placed it before him. Song Yue silently marveled at how advanced the rich people's phones were - it actually had a touchscreen! He thought his recently purchased Nokia N85 was the most advanced model. But halfway through this internal complaint, he froze, staring dumbfounded at the date displayed on the screen: 2012?! Was this some kind of joke?

Song Yue was speechless with shock, while Qin Mo remained silent. The Doctor was quickly summoned back and performed numerous tedious examinations on Song Yue before diagnosing him with psychogenic amnesia. This type of amnesia, caused by brain trauma, results in patients being unable to recall events from specific time periods - remembering only past events while forgetting recent ones. Clearly, Song Yue had suddenly lost memories of the past four years.

But to Song Yue, it felt like he had simply fallen asleep and awakened to find four years had passed. He missed the Beijing Olympics, had the South Africa World Cup spoiled with Spain's victory, and heard rumors about the world ending at year's end... None of this mattered much. Song Yue looked down, somewhat clumsily handling the iPhone 4s in his hand, only then realizing this advanced touchscreen Apple phone was actually his own. He didn't recognize most of the names in the contact list, and a wave of panic rose within him. It felt as if someone had occupied his body and lived his life for four years without his permission.

"The Doctor says you can be discharged. There's no significant brain hemorrhage or trauma. He recommends returning to familiar environments to help recover your memories." While explaining this to Song Yue, Qin Mo took out his phone and instructed his assistant to handle the discharge procedures.Familiar surroundings? His parents were back in their hometown. In this city, he only had a shared rental apartment with a friend, but he found it hard to believe that four years later, he would still be living in that same shared space. The reason was the suit jacket Qin Mo handed him—it was from a well-known brand sold at the most prominent counter in upscale department stores. A single suit like this could cover several months' rent for his shared apartment. After confirming that the pants and jacket he wore were indeed a matching set, Song Yue nervously put them on, feeling an increasing sense of unreality. He had been awake for a while, and the back of his head no longer hurt as much after receiving a dose of painkillers. Following Qin Mo out of the hospital, Song Yue instinctively glanced at his reflection in the mirror by the entrance.

It was unmistakably his face. Four years wasn’t that long, and he looked almost the same as he did right after graduating from college. However, both his hairstyle and the clothes he wore gave off a mature, worldly vibe. Song Yue thought that if he wore a stern and serious expression now, he might even resemble Qin Mo... Getting into Qin Mo’s BMW, Song Yue couldn’t help but take a few extra glances, only to be stunned by Qin Mo’s next words. "Don’t stare—it’s your car." Noticing Song Yue’s stiff expression out of the corner of his eye, Qin Mo misinterpreted it and suggested, "Would you prefer to drive?"

Song Yue immediately shook his head. He remembered not having a driver’s license. Of course, his memory was incomplete, which meant that in the past four years, he had not only obtained a license but also bought a BMW?

Good heavens! He knew lawyers could earn a lot, but weren’t most junior lawyers initially exploited as assistants? What on earth had he done? Anxiously sitting in the passenger seat, Song Yue gazed at the city outside the window and realized that over four years, it had grown increasingly unfamiliar. Many unfamiliar skyscrapers had replaced older buildings, and the roads were jam-packed with vehicles. They were soon stuck in traffic. Qin Mo seemed accustomed to such congestion, calmly inching forward with the flow of cars. Suddenly recalling what Qin Mo had said when he first woke up, Song Yue touched his still-throbbing head and hesitantly asked, "This injury... was I attacked?" "Yes, you were on the phone with me discussing a case you were handling at the time," Qin Mo replied, his grip on the steering wheel tightening almost imperceptibly as he struggled to contain his anger. Song Yue fell silent. He knew lawyers often made enemies, but experiencing it firsthand wasn’t something he could easily brush off. Forcing a weak smile, he said, "It seems they just wanted to warn me. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have chosen to strike while I was on the phone."Qin Mo relaxed his tense hand, quite satisfied that although Song Yue had lost four years of memories, his calm and clear mind remained intact: "Rest at home for a few days. Come back to work after you've recovered." "No need. I'll go to work tomorrow. Staying idle at home would only make me restless," Song Yue felt he'd go crazy if forced to do nothing at home. "Besides, didn't the Doctor suggest returning to familiar environments to regain memories? I'm certain I spent far more time at the firm than at home during these four years." This was the kind of statement every Boss loved to hear, and even Qin Mo's somewhat gloomy mood couldn't prevent a slight upturn of his lips. Just then, the traffic began moving slowly. Seizing a gap, Qin Mo executed a smooth turn into an upscale residential compound: "Alright then.

I'll pick you up at 8 tomorrow morning." Only then did Song Yue realize they lived in the same neighborhood. He knew senior lawyers at Qin Law Firm received exceptional benefits, including housing arrangements, but never imagined his own standing had risen so high. Watching Qin Mo lock the car, hand him the keys, and enter the elevator, Song Yue obediently followed in silence all the way to the other's doorstep. Noting Song Yue's apparent intention to enter his apartment, Qin Mo sighed and pointed at the opposite door: "You really don't remember anything - you live across the hall." "Oh..." Fishing keys from his suit pocket, Song Yue tried them and heard the door click open. Squinting, Qin Mo watched him enter and waited patiently for a moment. Detecting nothing unusual, he finally closed his own door. He couldn't shake the feeling that the amnesiac Song Yue's personality was completely different from before...

Setting aside Song Yue's astonishment at possessing a sizable home in this prohibitively expensive city, or his relief upon discovering his computer passwords remained unchanged despite the advanced technology feeling foreign, he spent the entire night frantically researching what had transpired during those missing four years. Unfortunately, his apartment appeared professionally cleaned - spotless with few memory-triggering items. QQ and MSN chat histories were equally sterile, suggesting he primarily used office computers. His phone contained mostly promotional and spam messages, indicating he likely relied more on phone calls.That night, Song Yue spent hours online catching up on major domestic and international events from the past four years. By the early morning hours, drowsiness set in just as the painkillers in his system wore off. Even after taking several hospital-prescribed pain relief tablets, they proved ineffective. He drifted in and out of sleep, tormented by persistent pain, and rose at daybreak. After hastily eating a few slices of bread, Song Yue opened his wardrobe and was once again stunned by the overwhelming collection of suits. He desperately wanted to check his bank account—was it in the negatives? But he knew such superficial expenses were unavoidable. Working at a prestigious place like Qin Law Firm meant adhering to company etiquette: never wearing the same outfit two days in a row. Selecting a low-key silver-gray suit, he tied a striped tie before the mirror, realizing that even fine clothing couldn’t conceal his haggard appearance. Who would have thought he’d be so unlucky—losing four years of his youth in the blink of an eye? He smirked self-deprecatingly at his reflection. At exactly 8 a.m., he opened the door and coincidentally saw Qin Mo emerging from the apartment across the hall. "Morning. We’ll take my car today," Qin Mo nodded to him and strode ahead to the elevator. Only when they descended to the underground parking garage and Song Yue spotted two others waiting did he realize that President Qin was quite down-to-earth—this wasn’t special treatment just for him. Carpooling with employees seemed to be a tradition at Qin Law Firm. However, Song Yue noticed the two colleagues were both partners at the firm and appeared quite familiar with him, immediately inquiring about his injuries from the previous day. Unsure how to respond, Song Yue was relieved when Qin Mo subtly redirected the conversation, as if reluctant to disclose his current condition. The group soon shifted to discussing an ongoing case, and Song Yue listened quietly, aware that Qin Mo had intentionally steered the topic this way—reportedly, this was a case Song Yue himself was handling. It was a straightforward civil divorce asset division dispute, albeit involving substantial sums, yet hardly the kind to provoke violent warnings. Soon, Song Yue began to understand why Qin Mo would...Qin Mo carpooled in the morning because the city traffic was utterly exasperating—a mere ten-minute drive to the firm could stretch into nearly an hour of gridlock. Yet during that hour, the group hadn’t been idle; they had already handled several cases on their tablets and drafted multiple appeals. Song Yue, who hadn’t slept all night, clearly looked worse for wear, so his persistent silence came as no surprise to anyone. Inching forward through the sluggish traffic, the four arrived punctually at nine o’clock at the office building housing Qin & Associates Law Firm. The firm occupied floors 16 to 18, and Song Yue had no idea where his workspace was located. Fortunately, Qin Mo told him to follow along, so Song Yue naturally accompanied him to the 18th floor. There, to his astonishment, he spotted his nameplate beside an office door. Song Yue pointed at it in disbelief, and Qin Mo gave a slow nod. This only heightened Song Yue’s sense of dread—he had a private office at Qin & Associates? Well, considering he owned a luxury home and drove a BMW, having a private office shouldn’t be that shocking. Dazedly, Song Yue pushed open the office door to find it tidy and ordinary-looking. He slumped into the leather sofa, still mustering the energy to boot up his computer and check his schedule, when the phone on the desk rang."Brother Song, I'm Zhang Guan, your assistant. May I come in?" A young voice sounded through the phone, likely having been briefed by Qin Mo about his situation, as he launched directly into a straightforward self-introduction. Song Yue naturally wouldn't refuse—he urgently needed someone to help him catch up on common knowledge, and Qin Mo clearly didn't have the spare time for that. After all, as the president of a law firm, it was already quite generous of him to personally pick Song Yue up from the hospital yesterday.

Zhang Guan was a trainee lawyer with a youthful face, clearly fresh out of college. The young man was tall and lanky, yet surprisingly efficient in his work. It was unclear what Qin Mo had told him, but Zhang Guan didn't ask any unnecessary questions. As soon as he entered, he brought Song Yue a strong black coffee, then stepped out again to fetch a thick stack of files, placing them on Song Yue's desk.

"Brother Song, these are all the cases you handled after joining the firm. President Qin asked me to gather them for you to review—maybe they'll help jog your memory." Zhang Guan was talkative and articulate, quickly organizing the half-meter-high pile of files. He pulled out the oldest one, dated 2008, and placed it in front of Song Yue.

Song Yue glanced at the date—it was from 2008, likely the first case he handled after joining Qin's firm. His interest was immediately piqued. He knew this was the simplest way to understand his work over the past four years, so without hesitation, he buried himself in the files.

The more he read, the more astonished he became. All the files were meticulously organized. At first, Song Yue focused on the cases themselves, but gradually, his attention was completely captured by the trial transcripts. According to the records, he didn't start handling cases independently until 2009. Before that, he had worked as an assistant to other lawyers. In the trial transcripts from after he began working independently, his exceptional courtroom skills were evident—his cross-examinations and arguments were sharp, concise, and powerful.

Song Yue could hardly believe that these words had come from him. He had no memory of any of it.

He spent the entire day immersed in the files, his mind growing increasingly muddled. He began to feel as though he had been possessed by some other entity over the past four years. Frustrated, he pushed the stack of files aside and turned to Zhang Guan, who had been sitting with him all day. "Zhang Guan, you joined last year, right?" It was an easy guess—Zhang Guan clearly had the look of a recent graduate, inexperienced in the ways of the world.

When Zhang Guan nodded, Song Yue continued, "You've been by my side since you started? So, in your eyes, what kind of person am I?"

Zhang Guan, usually straightforward, hesitated. This was a tricky question! But he knew that staying silent would only make things worse, so he carefully weighed his words and said, "Brother Song, you're someone everyone admires." He paused, noticing Song Yue's raised eyebrow, and quickly added, "Of course, everyone admires your abilities. But you never smile in daily life, and you never engage in small talk with us. It's always strictly business. People say behind your back that you're a workaholic."

Song Yue was speechless. The files Zhang Guan had brought earlier were only a fraction of the total—many more had been delivered later. It was clear that he had taken on an overwhelming number of cases over the past four years. Combined with his exceptional efficiency, it was no surprise that he had climbed to his current position.But this doesn't make sense! His workaholic personality was completely unlike him!

Noticing Song Yue wasn't wearing his usual stern expression, Zhang Guan grew bold enough to start gossiping. Being naturally talkative, once he started chattering, Song Yue managed to gather substantial information. He learned that he was about to become a developing partner at Qin Law Firm - his partnership status would be formally confirmed during the shareholder meeting at month's end.

This certainly shouldn't be the reason he got attacked. Those jealous individuals with malicious intentions wouldn't resort to such crude, straightforward tactics but would rather employ more insidious schemes.

Song Yue reviewed the cases he was currently handling, but none provided plausible motives. After all, he was merely a civil lawyer who didn't handle criminal cases, though after examining some trial records, he became less certain. Even he found them unbearable to read, let alone the parties involved.

Could it be someone released after serving their sentence seeking revenge? Civil cases typically settled out of court, and even imprisonment terms tended to be relatively short. When Song Yue shared his thoughts with Zhang Guan, they began screening cases together. They hadn't been at it long when Qin Mo entered, announcing he had obtained the surveillance footage from the police station.

Song Yue knew Qin Mo must have pulled significant strings, otherwise the police wouldn't have acted so swiftly. The three of them stared at the computer screen showing the afternoon incident. Pedestrians were visible, and Song Yue saw his own back view as he walked while on the phone. Clearly visible was a figure darting from the side, striking the back of his head with a wooden club before fleeing.

Though the surveillance footage had no audio, watching it made Song Yue's head throb with phantom pain. They continued watching the silent recording, observing the unconscious Song Yue lying motionless. Suddenly, Song Yue felt something was off, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly what.

The footage only stopped when Qin Mo's figure appeared on the surveillance recording. Meeting Song Yue's puzzled gaze, Qin Mo pointed at his phone and said, "Fortunately, there's a tracking function, and you also mentioned where you were when we were on the phone."

"The suspect was wearing a hat, making it impossible to see their face. I also asked several nearby shopkeepers afterward, but no one noticed any suspicious individuals," Zhang Guan explained, having clearly visited the scene yesterday. Unfortunately, the city's transient population was too large, making further investigation nearly impossible. "The wooden stick was found in a nearby trash can, but no fingerprints were retrieved. The clue just ended like this."

"So, Song Yue, don’t act alone these next couple of days," Qin Mo concluded decisively. In his many years as a lawyer, he had encountered retaliation before, but this time it involved his most promising subordinate—and it happened during their phone call. He was determined to uncover the truth.

Thus, Song Yue was assigned a new routine: daily commutes personally handled by Boss Qin Mo, with all other trivial matters fully managed by assistant Zhang Guan. Song Yue himself buried his head in case files, trying to recall four years of memories.

Over the following week, no further incidents occurred. Song Yue had also thoroughly memorized every case he had handled in those four years. Then came the day he was scheduled to appear in court for defense.

"Brother Song, are you sure you’re up for this? Should we have someone else take over?" Zhang Guan, now familiar with Song Yue, spoke with casual bluntness. Comparatively, he preferred the amnesiac Song Yue—the previous version had been like an emotionless work robot.

"No need, I can handle it," Song Yue replied, organizing his materials. Though he had lost four years of memories, his legal knowledge from school remained intact. Moreover, after a week of reviewing trial records, he noticed civil cases often revolved around property disputes—either divorces or inheritance battles—rarely presenting anything novel. While he lacked the confidence to perform as flawlessly as before, he was certain he could manage.

"Hey, Brother Song, aren’t you wearing that thumb ring today?" Zhang Guan reminded him as Song Yue finished preparing to leave. Remembering Song Yue’s amnesia, he walked over, opened a desk drawer, and pulled out a small Brocade Box. "You have this quirk—this thumb ring is a must-wear for you in court."

Song Yue paused in slight surprise. Having a lucky charm wasn’t unusual—he himself had always used the same pen for exams during his student days, which fit his personality. What stunned him was that he actually had an impression of this ring.

He had acquired it from an antique shop shortly before his interview at Qin’s firm four years ago. It was a sloped thumb ring with a string groove, made of bone that had aged to a pale brown hue. The Boss claimed it was crafted from tiger bone, though Song Yue hadn’t cared much about the material. When he tried it on back then, it stubbornly refused to come off. Fortunately, the price was reasonable, so he bought it without much thought.Song Yue recalled that he had been wearing this thumb ring when he attended the interview at Qinmo Law Firm. At the time, Qinmo had curiously asked about its origin. And he must have been wearing it during the car accident as well.

So after the accident, was he able to remove this thumb ring?

Song Yue inexplicably felt that his four-year memory loss might be connected to this peculiar thumb ring. Therefore, when Zhang Guan handed it to him, he instinctively refused—not even touching it—and asked Zhang Guan to put it back. Though finding it strange, Zhang Guan said nothing, assuming Song Yue simply had no memory of the ring.

The court proceeding went smoothly. Although this was technically Song Yue's first time in court, no mistakes occurred, and the case was won.

Noticing Zhang Guan's surprised expression, Song Yue privately asked him about it. Having grown familiar with him recently, Zhang Guan spoke frankly, expressing astonishment at Song Yue's changed approach to cross-examination and debate.

Zhang Guan vividly used martial arts metaphors: Song Yue's usual style resembled Ximen Chuixue's sword technique—swift, direct, and precise, like a simple thrust to the heart. But the current Song Yue was more like Guo Jing, who cultivated internal strength, winning through power and virtue.

Song Yue's eye twitched at the messy analogy, yet he had to admit it was intuitive. Having familiarized himself with the past four years' files, Song Yue knew what sharp words could secure victory in court, but such an approach felt too impersonal.

One must be tactful. The power of words can rival blades—even more terrifying, as the wounds they inflict are invisible and harder to heal.

Most importantly, just as skilled warriors die by weapons and expert swimmers drown in water, this sharp blade called language is double-edged. It can cut others and harm oneself. Song Yue suspected his own misfortune stemmed from careless speech.

He couldn't figure out what he had been thinking over those four years.According to reason, such caustic remarks weren't in his nature, but as he gradually learned about events during that period, he grew increasingly perplexed. Everything in his room aligned with his habits, even the documents on his computer—everything was conveniently organized.

Unable to make sense of it, Song Yue returned to the firm, greeting colleagues amiably only to see their unadjusted expressions. He awkwardly hurried back to his office. Hadn't a week been enough for them to adapt? Would he have to maintain a stern, expressionless facade from now on?

Bored, he turned on his computer and saw the surveillance video on the desktop. He unconsciously clicked it open, playing it on repeat. Staring at the suspect's figure, he strained to recall any clues, but the more he watched, the grimmer his expression became.

When Qinmo pushed the door open, he saw Song Yue behind the computer screen, face dark and gloomy. For a moment, Qinmo thought he had regained his four-year memory, feeling somewhat regretful.It must be known that since Song Yue started working at their law firm, he had been widely regarded as an iceberg, forming no close relationships with anyone. The only person he engaged in somewhat extra communication with was his boss, likely out of respect for the fact that the firm belonged to him. He was a complete and utter workaholic, which, of course, was something Qin Mo greatly appreciated. Over the past four years, Qin Mo had continuously promoted him. However, as Song Yue took on more and more cases, Qin Mo began to feel somewhat dissatisfied. In their line of work as lawyers, connections were paramount. Today, they might be defending the opposing side, but tomorrow, the same opponent might hire them for assistance.

Song Yue’s sharp tongue was too prone to offending people, so Qin Mo dared not let him handle major clients, restricting him to civil cases instead. If Song Yue had been assigned criminal cases, he might have already been stabbed a few times by now.

Qin Mo had paid special attention to today’s court records and suddenly realized that Song Yue’s transformation wasn’t just due to amnesia altering his personality—even his courtroom techniques had changed. Winning so smoothly, leaving the opponent convinced and without any resentment, truly aligned with Qin Mo’s principle of harmony fostering prosperity.

A lawyer who didn’t offend others was exceptionally rare, especially considering that the profession of law was inherently contentious.

Of course, the old Song Yue had taken it to the extreme.

While Qin Mo was still lamenting this, he didn’t pause his steps. He walked over and glanced at Song Yue’s computer screen, surprised by the surveillance footage playing on it. “What’s wrong? Did you notice something?"Song Yue pointed at the pedestrians coming and going on the screen, his voice low." “The place where I was attacked isn’t far from the company, but it took a full five minutes for you to arrive. In those five minutes, so many people passed by, yet not a single one came to check on me. At most, they just called 911.”

The first time Song Yue watched the footage, he had felt something was off. Now, he finally saw it clearly. In broad daylight, with a suspect committing a crime, not only did no one intervene, but they left him lying on the street to fend for himself? It was utterly baffling!

Qin Mo was taken aback for a moment, then smiled wryly. “Song Yue, it seems your memory still hasn’t returned. Nowadays, there are fewer people willing to do good deeds, especially in this city. And… to be honest, this situation is somewhat related to you.”

Song Yue was stunned. How could that be?

Qin Mo scanned Song Yue’s office. Over the past few days, Song Yue had been reviewing the cases he had handled in the last four years, so the files had remained untouched. After searching for a while, Qin Mo pulled out a file from the very bottom of the pile and handed it to Song Yue. “Take a look at this yourself first.”

Song Yue took the file and saw that it was from 2008, from when he had just joined Qin Mo Law Firm. At the time, he was only an assistant to another lawyer, not the lead attorney, so his name didn’t appear in the court records. He had never bothered to review it. Opening the file with curiosity, Song Yue immediately understood what Qin Mo meant.This was actually a very straightforward case: the defendant and plaintiff had collided at a certain location, resulting in the plaintiff suffering a fractured leg and demanding compensation for medical expenses from the defendant. Yet, despite its simplicity, the case did not conclude easily. Due to the loss of police station records, the defendant retracted their earlier testimony, claiming they had merely been passing by and had kindly helped the plaintiff up. The defendant then informed several acquaintances on online forums, and the matter quickly gained traction. With the addition of sensationalist media eager to stir up trouble, the situation instantly became complicated.

Song Yue held the documents, feeling utterly at a loss. He didn’t know what role he had played during that period, as his name appeared only a few times in the files. Yet, when he thought back to the records from those four years, he realized he had gone to extreme lengths.

"We were the defense lawyers at the time and were significantly affected by the case. The lawyer originally in charge transferred to another law firm after the case concluded," Qin Mo flipped through the files, pointing to a photocopy. "The case ultimately ended with our defeat, which, of course, was to be expected. After all, the defendant had indeed caused the collision. But no one could have anticipated the massive fallout. The plaintiff and defendant reached a settlement: in addition to the defendant’s compensation, both parties signed an agreement prohibiting either side from disclosing any information about the case to the media."

"So, doesn’t that mean no one can ever know the truth?" Song Yue was taken aback. This agreement clearly served to cover up for the defendant. A person who had lied managed to evade public condemnation and instead portrayed themselves as the aggrieved party who had been forced to pay.

Qin Mo didn’t elaborate, merely stating calmly, "Song Yue, we are lawyers."

Song Yue fell silent. He had understood the nature of the legal profession very clearly ever since he chose to study law. Regardless of whether the client is guilty or innocent, a lawyer must strive to secure the greatest possible rights and benefits for them. By that standard, this case had been handled quite successfully. But still...

"No one could have predicted the extent of the fallout," Qin Mo reassured him, patting his shoulder. "A few months ago, a journalist revisited the case, interviewed the secretary of the Political and Legal Affairs Committee, and fully disclosed all the details. Unfortunately, by then, no one cared about the truth anymore. In the information age, public attention is always drawn to more sensational scandals. The focus of public opinion is fleeting, and few bother to dig for the real story."

Song Yue’s throat tightened. He had no way of knowing how he had confronted such a case four years ago; his memory of that time was a complete blank.

But if he could turn back time to four years ago, what choice would he make?

That was a question with no answer.

It was true—lawyers must tell the truth, but they could choose to reveal only part of it. Song Yue let out a deep sigh and forced a wry smile. "I think that person who confronted me probably wanted me to experience firsthand the helplessness and desolation of being abandoned on the roadside. I suspect Lawyer Li, who handled this case, might have faced something similar."Qin Mo promptly made calls to verify the information, dialing several numbers before sighing in resignation. "You're right. Lawyer Li encountered the same situation as you, and so did the defendant. As for the judge handling the case, nothing happened—likely because they moved cities and couldn’t be located."

Song Yue’s expression didn’t lighten with the resolution of the puzzle; instead, it grew heavier.

Qin Mo said no more, aware that in their profession, morality was a hurdle each had to overcome themselves.

The previous Song Yue had acted with decisive finality, but the current Song Yue clearly needed to weigh things once again.

Now that the suspect’s intent was clear—merely to teach them a lesson rather than cause serious harm—Song Yue no longer felt as paranoid as before.

Yet, a thorn seemed lodged in his heart, impossible to remove.

Perhaps that was for the best—a reminder to gauge his actions more carefully in the future.

Song Yue successfully handled numerous cases, becoming a new partner at Qin Law Firm and taking on a broader range of responsibilities.

One day, he received a call from Zhang Guan, who informed him that an unannounced visitor had come to see him. Zhang Guan added, "The person seems... unusual."

With some free time at the moment, Song Yue asked Zhang Guan to show the visitor in. Soon, the office door opened, and Song Yue immediately noticed the young man in a black shirt embroidered with a Dragon.

He looked somewhat familiar—where had he seen him before? As Song Yue extended his business card in greeting, the man waved it aside and refused, "I’m not here for a consultation. I want to buy back an item from you."

"What item?" Song Yue was taken aback, not understanding.

"A thumb ring," the man said calmly. "I assume it’s of no use to you now. It’s better to sell it back to me."

It was then that Song Yue remembered: this man was likely the Boss from the antique shop where he’d bought the thumb ring four years ago. Back then, the man had been wearing a Mao Suit embroidered with a Crimson Dragon—he’d just changed his style! The thumb ring had indeed been a source of discomfort for Song Yue; he couldn’t discard it, throw it away, or dare to gift it, leaving it stuck in a drawer like a hot potato. Hearing this, he promptly retrieved it and handed it to the Boss.

Without hesitation, the Boss pulled out several RMB notes, placed them on the desk, took the Brocade Box containing the thumb ring, and made to leave.

Song Yue quickly asked, "Boss, what’s the origin of this thumb ring?" He didn’t dare mention that his four years of abnormal life might be due to the ring, but not knowing the truth left him unsettled.

The Boss turned back, looking at him with a faint, ambiguous smile. "Do you know what a thumb ring is used for? In ancient times, it was called a ‘she,’ a shooting aid that appeared as early as the Shang Dynasty—a tool for archers to hook the bowstring and shoot prey. Though not a lethal weapon like blades or swords, it’s still an accomplice, carrying intense baleful energy."

Song Yue was stunned, sensing implied meaning in the Boss’s words. Wasn’t the lawyer’s profession quite similar to this thumb ring?

"Moreover, this thumb ring was used by King Wu of Zhou, Ji Fa, when he founded the Great Zhou Dynasty. It fills the wearer with baleful energy, enabling them to make judgments most favorable to themselves."Song Yue didn't know what to say, though he felt somewhat unconvinced deep down. Antique dealers were always silver-tongued, but as a lawyer who also made his living through eloquence, being rendered speechless by someone else was truly frustrating.

"Don't worry. The reason you couldn't remove this thumb ring after putting it on earlier was likely due to the residual malevolent energy affecting your temperament. After years of gradual dissipation, it should have completely vanished by now," the old Boss said slowly. Naturally, he showed no trace of apology. It was no accident that this Tail Constellation Thumb Ring had chosen this person—his excessively extreme rationality and emotionality made him prone to straying down the wrong path. The Boss believed this had little to do with the thumb ring as a catalyst.

It was like the snake that tempted Eve to eat the apple in the Garden of Eden. Even without the temptation of that wicked serpent, Eve would have done so eventually.

It was only a matter of time.

Yet whether such an outcome was good or bad, no one could say for certain. After all, according to the biblical narrative, Adam and Eve ultimately gave rise to humanity, and a momentary mistake doesn't define everything.

To recognize one's fault and correct it is the greatest virtue.

After exiting the office building, the Boss appeared to be fiddling with the thumb ring in his hand, but in reality, he was discreetly using his hand to push the slowly emerging rabbit plushie back into his pocket.

"Just one look! No one will notice," Doctor's frustrated voice muffled through the fabric of the pocket, clearly having grown restless in such a short time.

"Someone's watching," the Boss said calmly. Yet as the rabbit plushie wobbled its way out again, he made no move to tuck it back in.

"It's just that Huhai!" Doctor caught sight of the figure standing in the shadows at the alley's entrance. His silver hair made him particularly conspicuous. With a large comic convention happening nearby these days, passersby had grown accustomed to unusual hair and eye colors and paid no mind. However, the crimson bird perched on his shoulder was adorable and well-behaved, occasionally putting on cute antics. The combination of a handsome man and a charming pet bird attracted considerable attention, drawing frequent glances. Doctor noticed many people pulling out their phones to take photos from a distance. "Speaking of which, what's this young master doing here? Could he be following us? Wait, Boss, didn't you subdue Huhai with the Dragon Pattern Marsh and make him your subordinate? Did you summon him here?"

"He's likely here for this tiger bone," the Boss rubbed the thumb ring in his hand and smiled faintly. "Although he's under my control through the Dragon Pattern Marsh, we must avoid alerting the enemy. A good blade should be used where it cuts deepest." With that, the Boss turned and waved the tiger bone thumb ring in Huhai's direction. The other party, who had clearly been observing the Boss's every move, darkened his expression, opened a large black umbrella overhead, and strode away.

Doctor looked up at the bright sunny sky and marveled, "No way? Is this young master afraid of getting tanned like some delicate maiden?"

The Boss watched Huhai's figure walking in the sunlight until he turned the corner at the end of the street and disappeared from view before saying slowly, "Because he cannot be exposed to sunlight.""Huh? He's a vampire? And afraid of sunlight? So if we ever have to deal with him, do we need to prepare garlic and crosses?" The Doctor couldn't resist mocking, then suddenly remembered something and chuckled, "By the way, that Aquamarine jade was actually carved into a crucifix with Jesus suffering - with that cross design, wasn't Young Master Hu just asking for trouble?"

Although the Boss was in a foul mood, hearing the Doctor's teasing still made the corners of his lips twitch upward slightly.

"Those low-level creatures like vampires aren't worth mentioning. Haven't you ever wondered? There are only two Red dragon robes - one has always been worn by me, while the other was buried with Fusu in Qin Shi Huang's mausoleum. So how has Huhai managed to survive until now?" "Eh? Isn't it because he also took the immortality elixir?" Only then did the Doctor realize something was amiss. He pondered carefully for a while before asking in confusion, "That is indeed quite strange. Looking at his silver hair and crimson eyes... Could it be that Huhai used some heaven-defying method?"

The Boss couldn't resist reaching out to touch the ferocious old scar on his neck, sighing as he said, "Both he and I took that immortality elixir, but the difference is, I died once and have become like a dead person, relying entirely on the Red dragon robe to keep my body from decaying. Meanwhile, Huhai has been living perfectly fine all along. Although the immortality elixir is a miraculous medicine that allows one to live a long life and maintain youth forever, the hair will gradually turn white like that of an elderly person in their seventies, and those crimson pupils are probably the same. As for not being able to be exposed to sunlight, that is also understandable. He was originally supposed to die early, and without the support of the Red dragon robe, his yin energy is abundant, so naturally he cannot withstand the direct sunlight, which carries strong yang energy. Although he has altered the half-section of the Red dragon robe into a cloak to wear, it's not like I, who have been wearing it year after year, so its effect is not significant."

Although the Doctor was a careless and not particularly attentive person, he could still sense the melancholy in the Boss's words. He suddenly realized why the Boss's gaze had been so complex when he looked at Huhai's figure earlier.

In this world, probably only Huhai could be considered someone who shares the same suffering as the Boss. Both of them have experienced ups and downs over more than two thousand years, witnessing all the changes in human affairs. The Doctor suddenly felt that immortality might not be a good thing—having to stay in each place for only a few years before hastily leaving before others grew suspicious, watching the people they cared about grow old one by one, and ultimately ending up only accompanied by ancient artifacts...

The Doctor quietly wrapped his long ears around the Boss's hand, pulling back his attention.

Even if the Boss felt lonely, he shouldn't even think about seeking Huhai as a companion. Hmm, and Fusu, who had taken over his body, shouldn't even dream of it.

Fusu set down the medical book in his hand and rubbed his aching temples. Although he possessed the memories of the Doctor's body, the study of medicine was endless. The Doctor was only a junior physician, and there was still much, much more to learn. For example, there were dozens of methods for surgical suturing, each requiring judgment based on the patient's condition and diligent practice before surgery. Fusu was a bit of a perfectionist; no matter what he did, he liked to do it to the best of his ability, which left him somewhat physically and mentally exhausted.

A freshly brewed cup of Biluochun tea was placed beside his hand. Fusu inhaled the tea's fragrance, feeling his headache ease slightly. He glanced up slightly at Huhai standing beside him, picked up the teacup, and gently stirred the floating tea leaves with the lid, saying calmly, "You didn't manage to get the tiger bone archer's ring, did you?"

"Your subject brother was reckless and did not succeed," Huhai lowered his head, like a child waiting to be scolded by an adult for making a mistake. In truth, it wasn't that he hadn't had the opportunity to retrieve the tiger bone archer's ring, but after experiencing two thousand years—though most of that time was spent hidden away, sleeping in tombs—he knew that times were different now. His elder brother's wishes were likely difficult to fulfill. Instead, he felt that living with his elder brother, watching him go to work at the hospital every day, and interacting like ordinary brothers was a rather good choice.

Fusu glanced at him with a faint, ambiguous smile but said nothing. Instead, he lowered his head to cool the tea in his cup and took a gentle sip.Huhai felt cold sweat soaking through the back of his clothes. Though his elder brother hadn't uttered a single word, the overwhelming aura emanating from him was so intimidating that Huhai didn't even dare to breathe too loudly. He always felt there was something odd about his elder brother. Despite declaring his intention to rebuild the Cosmos formation, over the past few months, Fusu had been routinely covering the Doctor's shifts without ever leaving the city even once, which made Huhai somewhat uneasy.

Was he not trusted? Or was something else being plotted?

Seeing the fine beads of sweat forming on his incompetent younger brother's forehead, Fusu waved his hand and said, "It's nothing. Let's have roast duck for dinner. Too lazy to go out—you order takeout."

Huhai was slightly taken aback. Though he felt his elder brother had been becoming increasingly reclusive these days, he didn't oppose his wish and went to call for takeout.

Fusu gently stroked the Heirloom Seal of the Realm placed on his desk, narrowed his eyes slightly, and murmured under his breath, "Only collected six imperial antiques so far? No rush... no rush..."

Mini Theater

Doctor: Boss... um...

Boss: ?

Doctor: That thumb ring... what did you say it's called again?

Boss: Actually, you just don't recognize the last character, do you?

Doctor: Hehe... Don't laugh at me for being illiterate... Chinese characters are profound and extensive—it's perfectly normal not to recognize some!

Boss: The character 韘 is pronounced 'shè,' got it? Its shape isn't easy to remember either—go write it a hundred times!

Doctor: ...Hey... Do you think I can even hold a pen with this arm right now? My fingers won't even separate properly!!!!

Boss: ...

(End of Chapter)