Chapter 323: The Bench Outside the Door

At 10:10 on January 4th, the landline on the second floor rang three times before Shen Zhixia pulled her hand away from the thermos lid.

"Chengnan District People's Court Litigation Service Center."

The caller first confirmed the names: Kang Wenying, Kang Youxing, inheritance dispute, People's Mediation Agreement confirmation application. Then they gave the date: the 6th at 9:30 a.m., both parties present, original ID cards, original agreement. If anything was missing, no questions asked.

"What if something is missing?"

"Treated as a withdrawal of application. To proceed, you'd have to resubmit, and the mediation committee would have to be involved all over again."

Shen Zhixia opened the duty log and filled it in cell by cell: calling unit, time, date, what to bring, what happens if someone doesn't show. When finished, she read it back aloud. The caller said it was correct and hung up.

She tore the page out, tucked it into the Kang family case file cover. The new case intake register was still lying open in front of the steel cabinet, its first page holding only the firm matter entry from the 30th, the "Handler" column blank. She looked at it for a moment, closed it, and put it back.

At 10:20, she dialed Kang Wenying's number.

"The 6th at 9:30. You should arrive before nine. I'll wait for you at the main gate."

"Do I bring money."

"No. Judicial confirmation doesn't cost anything."

"What do I bring."

"Your ID, and your own copy of the original agreement. Nothing else."

There was the sound of a rag wiping glass on the other end, steady, rhythmic. "Is Director He coming."

"She is. She said she'd accompany you."

"Her voice is still low," Kang Wenying said. "Last time at her building, I could hear it was low."

"She hasn't been in court lately."

"Even not in court, it's low." The old woman finished speaking and tossed the rag onto the windowsill. "On the 6th I'll leave at seven-thirty, catch the first bus."

At 10:40, she dialed He Xiufen. The range hood was running on the other end.

"The 6th?" He Xiufen turned down the flame. "9:30. I'll come down at eight, leave at eight-twenty."

"I'll wait for you at the main gate."

"You wait for Kang Wenying. I'll come through the back lane—it's shorter." A pause. "That day I'll walk her in. I'm not going inside."

"I'll add a power of attorney for you, so you can sit inside."

"Don't add it." He Xiufen said. "If you add it, this case still has my name on it. I'll sit outside."

[Thud. There are chairs outside too.]

Early on January 6th, Shen Zhixia first detoured to the firm and left the empty paper bag from home in the steel cabinet. At 8:50, she arrived at the litigation service center entrance, where a thin layer of frost on the steps hadn't fully melted.

The mediation room door stood half open. A row of benches hugged the wall outside—iron legs, wooden seats, the middle screw loose, the seat wobbling if sat on. He Xiufen sat on the one closest to the door, her cloth bag on her knees, both hands pressing it down, her scarf taken off and draped over the chair back.

"You're here," she said.

"What time did you get here."

"8:35. No traffic on the road."

Shen Zhixia stood at the doorway for a moment. He Xiufen looked up at her: "Go in. The table inside will be set up soon enough."

At five past nine, Kang Wenying came from the direction of the bus stop, scarf wrapped twice around her neck, the cloth bag in her hand bulging in a neat square—the four-page agreement folded in half and wrapped in a handkerchief.

"Where's Director He."

"In there."

Kang Wenying walked toward the door. When she saw the person on the bench outside, her step faltered for half a beat. She shifted the handkerchief bundle under her other arm, said nothing, and went in to sit down.

At 9:15, Kang Youxing arrived. He was alone. His padded jacket bulged at the chest—the plastic document folder in his inner pocket. He sat down and smoothed the folder over his knee twice.

At 9:30, the judge entered. In his forties, white shirt under a navy sweater, one sleeve rolled up, a stack of papers in one hand and a paper cup in the other, steam running down the cup's side. The court clerk started up the computer at the side table.

Shen Zhixia handed over the power of attorney. The judge glanced at it: "Agent, Shen Zhixia."

"Present."

"Kang Wenying."

"Present."

"Kang Youxing."

"Present."

One ID per person. He checked the photo against the face, looked again, then pushed them back across the table. The four-page original agreement was spread open. The judge read from start to finish, and when he reached the red seal in the corner of page four, he pressed it with his fingertip.

"Signed on December 9th," he said. "Who read this document aloud to you."

"Director Xu read it. Director He was there too." Kang Wenying said. "She read one clause, asked if we understood."

"Did you understand."

"I did."

"Kang Youxing." The judge turned his face. "Is your name on this in your own handwriting?"

"I signed it."

"Did anyone force you."

"No."

"Before signing, did someone read it to you clause by clause."

"Yes. After she read it, I read it through again myself."

"Your mother's two-page will—you've acknowledged it in this agreement. As for the handwriting on those two pages, do you still acknowledge it now."

Kang Youxing pressed his hand against the table edge. "It's her handwriting."

The clerk typed the line in, keys clattering.

"Item one: the old house is inherited by Kang Wenying. Do you both accept this."

"I accept." Kang Wenying said.

"I accept." Kang Youxing said.

"Item two: two crates of paintings, one crate each, counted on the spot."

"They were counted." Kang Youxing said. "Eighteen per crate. I picked the one near the door."

"Item three: 28,000 yuan for the grave relocation. Ten thousand on December 20th, 18,000 on the 31st, paid into Kang Youxing's account. Have both payments arrived."

"They have." Kang Youxing said. "The ten thousand came on the 20th, the 18,000 came on the 29th."

"The account is yours."

"It's mine."

"Item four: you agree to cooperate with the inheritance registration. When will you go."

"After New Year. Sometime in the first month I'll sign."

"Bring the will, the agreement, and the ruling—all three. Don't miss any."

"Noted."

"Item five: within thirty days, both parties jointly apply for confirmation—well, you're already sitting in this room." The judge squared the four pages. "Present at signing: Jiang Guifang. She isn't here today."

"She's at home." Kang Youxing said. "She signed it herself. I watched her sign it. She pressed her fingerprint twice."

"You were present when she signed."

"I was."

"Her absence doesn't affect anything. Today is about what the two of you want." The judge put down his pen. "One more thing, which I'll ask separately. After this document was signed, did either family ever say it didn't count."

"No." Kang Wenying said.

"No." Kang Youxing said.

The judge nodded and slid the papers forward half an inch: "Then the last question. Are you both willing to proceed as written here."

"I am." Kang Wenying said. A pause, then she added: "My mother's room—I'm moving back in."

The judge looked at her, didn't follow up on that line, and told the clerk to type it in.

At 10:50, the judge sent Shen Zhixia out to make copies of both parties' IDs for the file. She opened the door; the person on the bench looked up.

"What do you need."

"Photocopy their IDs."

"The copier's at the corner by the stairs, water dispenser's next to it." He Xiufen handed over the thermos from her lap. "While you're there, get me some hot water."

She took the cup. The copier let out a muffled thump as it pressed two IDs flat. The hot water from the dispenser stopped right at the rim. She screwed the cap on tight and came back, setting it on the empty end of the bench. He Xiufen reached over and moved it slightly—over to where it wouldn't be in anyone's way.

"Go on in."

The door closed.

At 11:20, two Civil Rulings were placed on the table. The judge read them out line by line: this People's Mediation Agreement is confirmed valid; this ruling takes effect upon service and cannot be appealed; if one party fails to act according to the agreement, the other may apply to the court for enforcement, and the court may seize property and may deduct funds; judicial confirmation is free of charge.

"What if he doesn't go and do the registration." Kang Wenying asked.

"Use this to apply to the court for enforcement." The judge said. "The court will notify the registration office to proceed per the ruling. You don't have to pay upfront for enforcement—the costs are borne by the party against whom enforcement is sought."

"A few hundred yuan." Kang Youxing said from across the table.

"A few hundred yuan, and you don't pay it." The judge said.

Kang Wenying signed the proof of service. Her glasses came off; the last stroke of her name dragged half an inch before she pressed down on the paper's edge to stop the pen. Kang Youxing signed quickly, then placed the pen on the paper, tip facing himself, and pressed his fingertip over his own name.

[Thud. The mediation agreement, now a ruling. This exchange costs nothing.]

At 11:30, the wind on the steps was harder than it had been in the morning. Kang Wenying wrapped the ruling and the agreement together back into the handkerchief, tucked them into the cloth bag, and rolled the bag's opening down twice.

He Xiufen stood on the top step. She didn't ask what had been said inside.

"You got them."

"I got them." Kang Wenying held the bag to her chest.

Kang Youxing followed out and stood midway down the steps, pressing a hand to his lower back.

"March 20th," he said.

"Morning or afternoon."

"Morning. Exhumation at nine, burial at eleven."

"Are the characters on the headstone carved."

"They're carved." He said. "Bottom left, you. Right, me."

"Fine." Kang Wenying said.

He walked down two more steps, then looked back at the copies in Shen Zhixia's hand: "My copy—you're keeping it."

"I'm keeping it." Shen Zhixia said. "If anyone asks later, your copy is the record."

He nodded, pressed his inner pocket once, and headed toward the bus stop. After seven or eight steps, he turned and called back: "That day, come early."

"I'll come early." Kang Wenying said.

The wind flipped over a scrap of paper at the bottom of the steps. He Xiufen descended to the last step and stopped.

"This one's done."

Kang Wenying shifted the bag to her other arm: "You go home and rest too."

"I'll rest." He Xiufen said, then turned to look at Shen Zhixia. "If anything comes up later, you go to her. Did you save her number?"

"I did."

"Once it warms up in the spring, come sit at the old house." Kang Wenying said.

"I will." Shen Zhixia said.

He Xiufen cut in from the side: "She said she'll come. So she'll come."

At 12:30, in the noodle shop's back kitchen. Water roiled in the pot. He Xiufen shook out a handful of noodles and dropped them in, gave them a stir with chopsticks. She untied the apron strings from behind her back, lifted the apron off, hung it on the nail behind the door, stepped back to look, then reached out and took it down again, retied it—the strings wrapped once around her waist and knotted tight.

"Not wearing it?" Shen Zhixia asked from the doorway.

"Wearing it." He Xiufen said. "Without this, the grease from the stove goes all over you."

She tapped the pot rim with the ladle.

"That paper bag upstairs—still empty?"

"Still empty."

"Good that it's empty. Empty means no one's come looking yet." He Xiufen lifted the noodles into bowls, ladled broth over them, the scallions on the surface scattering with a push. "From now on, you handle the upstairs matters yourselves. I'm downstairs."

She set two bowls by the stove. The cilantro on one was picked out completely.

"Take them up. One bowl, no cilantro."

"He doesn't eat cilantro."

"I remember." He Xiufen said.

Shen Zhixia carried the two bowls upstairs. At the stair landing, she looked back. Under the kitchen light, He Xiufen was pulling the apron strings one notch tighter behind her back.