Two years after we broke up, my archrival Lu Chenzhou and I met on the same road over a tens-billion merger and acquisition case.
He is the chief of Party A, and I am the ace of Party B.
Everyone is waiting to see us, a pair of "has-been CPs" fighting to the death in court.
But I handed the coffee in front of everyone: "Lu Lu, you are used to drinking American coffee."
He took it with a sneer, and his fingertips brushed against my palm, which was hot.
During the day we were at odds with each other, he scolded me for being radical and I ridiculed him for being conservative.
Late at night, he sent an encrypted document: "Item 3 will kill you, change it."
I replied: "Mind yourself, the last coat washing bill has not been settled yet."
The whole law firm went crazy:
"Why did Lawyer Lu only refute Lawyer Xu, but write down everything he said on the first page of his notes?"
"The Finance Department broke the news! Their business trip hotels are always on the same floor!"
"The tea room surveillance leaked out! Lawyer Lu blocked Lawyer Xu in the corner and said, 'That time you pretended to sleep, your heartbeat disturbed me.'"
It wasn't until my opponent accused him of money laundering and the supervisory interview came that I broke in through the door with evidence:
"I am his partner and his legal partner."
There was dead silence.
That night he pressed me against the floor-to-ceiling window and said in a fierce voice:
"You were the one who said we broke up back then, and now you have the final say when we get back together?"
I pulled his tie and kissed him:
"This time I don't just want to get back together - I want the whole legal circle to know that you, Lu Chenzhou, were born to be mine."
Fighting in court during the day, reconciliation at bedside at night. The love of the double-A boss is such that even his opponents can't help but hand over wedding invitations.
