Chapter 369: A Basket of Eggs

At 9:30, footsteps sounded on the stairs, pausing between each step. They stopped at the second-floor doorway and went no further.

Shen Zhixia looked up. A blue jacket stood in the doorway, arm extended straight out, holding a basket as if afraid its bottom might scrape the doorframe.

"Auntie Chai."

"I won't come in." Chai Guizhi set the basket down against the wall beside the door, nudged it half an inch inward with her toe, then nudged it back. "This room of yours is nothing but paper. The eggs have straw on them. I don't want to get the paper dirty."

A washed-out square cloth covered the basket, its corner weighed down by two eggs, their shells still flecked with chaff.

Lu Jibai stood and carried his chair to the doorway, turning it half around. "Sit."

Chai Guizhi looked at the chair, considered it for a while, then perched on its edge. Her cloth bag lay across her knees, pinned shut at the mouth. She hadn't brought Xiaoyu today. Her hair was combed smooth, and the cuffs of her blue jacket were frayed.

"I didn't come to say thank you." She spoke first. "The night the judgment came down, I didn't sleep a wink. Xiaoyu asked me, Grandma, did we win? I said we won. Then he asked, and what about our family's name?"

She pressed the safety pin on her cloth bag.

"I couldn't answer him. I came today for one thing only—Xiaoyu's own case, what happens next."

Shen Zhixia closed the document in her hands, walked around the desk, and sat in the chair across from her.

"The public interest case—that one was for the ditch, the land, the children of the whole village." She said, "Xiaoyu's own is a separate matter: personal injury compensation. Medical costs, nutrition costs, travel expenses, future follow-up visits—all calculated item by item against the receipts."

"How long will that take?"

"Once these fifteen days pass, on the twenty-third, if they don't appeal, the judgment takes effect. Only after it takes effect can I file this one."

Chai Guizhi pressed "the twenty-third" firmly into her mind, nodded, then looked up. "What papers do I need?"

"Hospital receipts, payment stubs, bus tickets. Bring whatever you have. For any document I was with you when you got it, I've kept copies here too."

"I save all my stubs." She pulled the cloth bag closer. "They're all stuffed in the biscuit tin. I haven't thrown a single one away. Even that 206-yuan blood draw receipt from last time—I wrapped it in a plastic bag."

"Then don't lose a single one."

Chai Guizhi sat thinking for a while, then suddenly asked, "This case—will Xiaoyu's name be on the paper?"

Shen Zhixia looked up at her.

"The last one didn't have it." Chai Guizhi spoke slowly. "You told me—not a single child's name. I understood, and I accepted it. That one was for the ditch. But this one—this one is his own blood."

"This one will have it." Shen Zhixia said. "In this case, he's the plaintiff. His name goes on the complaint, in the row that belongs to him. He's eight—he can't sign yet, so his father signs for him. His own line stays blank, waiting for him to grow up."

Chai Guizhi pressed her hand over the cloth bag for a long moment before speaking. "Then it counts."

"It counts."

"I can't read." She said. "When the time comes, read it to me. When you get to his name, pause."

"I'll pause."

Lu Jibai stood to the side, spun the pen in his hand half a turn, and wrote a few words on a sheet of paper.

"I have one more question." Chai Guizhi spoke again. "At the last hearing, the judge read out such a long passage—pipes, soil—I didn't understand a word. Those words—will they still hold for Xiaoyu's case?"

"They will. What the judgment found doesn't need to be proven again." Shen Zhixia said. "But one thing has to be said up front: if they produce contrary evidence that overturns it, that's a separate matter."

"'Found.'"

Chai Guizhi repeated the word, without nodding. "I don't know that word. What you just said—I didn't follow it either."

Lu Jibai stepped over from the window and stood at the end of the desk.

"What the court has already said, they can't wriggle out of." He said.

Chai Guizhi turned to look at him.

"The pipe running from the tank to the ditch, the poison levels in the soil—the judge wrote it all down." He said. "For the next case, you don't have to prove it all over again from scratch. They can't get to the next case and suddenly claim they don't remember."

"Oh." This time she nodded. "So once something's been said, it can't be taken back. Like borrowing money—you borrow it, you can't say you don't remember."

"Exactly the same." He said.

Chai Guizhi pulled a rolled-up plastic bag from her cloth bag, untied it, and drew out several sheets of paper, edges curled.

"This month's medicine costs, and the bus tickets from the last trip to the city for the blood draw." She spread the papers out on the desk one by one. "I can't make out many of the words. You tell me which are useful, and I'll keep those."

Shen Zhixia went through them one at a time. The two calcium tablet receipts were from the pharmacy—fifty-eight yuan each, two per month; the blood draw slip was a hospital charge receipt, its corners softened by the sweat from her palm; plus a two-yuan bus ticket with a tear across its face.

She smoothed out two of them and folded the rest back along their original creases.

"Keep them all." She said. "Not today—when we file, I'll go through them with you one by one."

"One more thing." Chai Guizhi said. "This case—who signs?"

"The child's father." Shen Zhixia said. "You're the grandmother; you can't sign for him. He came back once at the beginning of the month to sign for the last one—he'll need to sign for this one too. I'll draft the power of attorney and mail it. He signs, presses a thumbprint, writes the date clearly, and sends it back by registered mail. He doesn't have to come back."

Chai Guizhi looked down at her hands. "He's in Guangdong. One day off work is one day's pay gone."

"I know."

"If he asks—how much can we get?"

Shen Zhixia didn't answer right away.

"Medical costs by receipt, nutrition and travel by ticket—added up item by item, it's hard to say." She said. "One thing I have to be clear about up front: even if we win, the money may not come right away. If they don't pay, we still have to apply for enforcement, making trip after trip."

Chai Guizhi took that in. "Same as this time."

"Harder than this time. Here the other side was a factory, and the factory had accounts. In that case, the other side is still that factory."

Chai Guizhi sat still, wound the cloth bag's strap around her fingers twice, then unwound it.

"Hard is fine." She said. "My grandson's tubes of blood weren't drawn for nothing."

"One more thing I need to ask clearly." She raised her eyes. "This case—how much do you charge?"

Shen Zhixia glanced at Lu Jibai.

"The child's young, and given the family's situation, we can apply for legal aid first." She said. "If it's approved, the state pays; if not, the firm charges at the minimum rate, and payment can be made in installments. None of that is urgent—we'll sort it out once the materials are complete."

"I don't want to take advantage of you." Chai Guizhi said. "The last case you didn't charge a cent. I remember it."

"Remember it, but don't settle up now." Lu Jibai said. "Her rule: get the paperwork done first. Money gets sorted last."

"When do they start on the ditch?" Chai Guizhi asked.

"Within thirty days, the pipe gets rerouted and sealed; within one hundred eighty days, the cleanup has to be finished."

"I'll check on it every day." She said. "The moment they break ground, I'll call Teacher Cai."

[Thud. Xiaoyu's own case—will be recorded once the judgment takes effect.]

Shen Zhixia lowered her head, closed her notebook, and pressed the cap onto her pen.

At 10:20, Chai Guizhi stood up. She walked to the door, saw the basket still against the wall, and bent to pick it up—but someone beat her to it.

Shen Zhixia carried the basket down the stairs behind her. The noodle shop's lunch rush hadn't started; a single pot sat on the stove, scallion oil crackling inside. He Xiufen, a dishcloth wrapped around her hand, was lifting things out of the oil.

"Director He, Auntie Chai brought these." Shen Zhixia set the basket on the edge of the prep table.

He Xiufen lifted the cloth, glanced inside, and covered it again.

"I'll take the eggs." She raised her voice toward the door. "Old sister, come in."

Chai Guizhi stood at the doorway, wiping her hands on her jacket. "They're just from my own hens. Not worth much."

"Worth much or not, I don't care. These eggs don't go into the accounts." He Xiufen said. "If you feel like you owe me, next time you come down for noodles, pay for your own bowl."

Chai Guizhi smiled. It was the first time she'd smiled in days.

He Xiufen picked two hot steamed buns from the steamer, wrapped them in paper, and tucked them into her cloth bag. "For the road. Taking the bus back?"

"Yes. Two stops to the station, then the town bus."

"It's a long way. Don't go on an empty stomach."

"I'll take half the eggs back." Chai Guizhi stopped. "A whole basket is too many. You'll never finish them before they spoil."

"If they spoil, I'll throw them out myself." He Xiufen smoothed the cloth back over the basket and set a bowl on top of it. "If you take any back, don't bother sending anything again."

Chai Guizhi looked at the bowl, stopped arguing, adjusted her cloth bag, and slowly walked out. At the mouth of the alley, she turned back.

"Little Shen."

"Yeah."

"Two families from the village came asking this morning. Wanted to know how to find that lawyer from the city." She shifted the cloth bag to her other hand. "One's the Wang family, the other's from the east end of the village. Both signed that paper."

Shen Zhixia had just rinsed her hands at the sink; her fingertips were still cool.

"What did they ask?"

"They asked whether people who signed that paper can still sue." Chai Guizhi looked at her. "They said if it's still possible, they want to ask around; if not, pretend they never asked."

The flame under the stove had been turned low. He Xiufen didn't look up.

"Tell them: signing a paper doesn't mean the road's closed." Shen Zhixia said. "Whether that paper holds depends on what it says, whose thumbprint is on it, and whether anyone read it aloud to them before they pressed."

"That's too much. I won't remember it."

"Then remember just one line: bring those two sheets of paper, and have them come themselves."

"You won't go to the village?" Chai Guizhi looked at her. "They want you to come. They say your office in the city is hard to find, and if you'd take a look in person, it'd save them running around blind."

"Have them come themselves. I'm not going."

Chai Guizhi nodded, pressing down on her cloth bag.

"I understand. You people always said—let them walk in on their own."

She turned and headed toward the alley mouth. The blue jacket veered beneath the clothesline, then the crowd swallowed her up.

Shen Zhixia stood at the noodle shop's door watching for a moment before going back upstairs.

The second-floor window was open. The wind lifted the corner of a sheet of paper on the desk; Lu Jibai reached out and held it down. On her desk sat a mug of water, steam still rising from its sides; next to it another, the one she'd poured for herself when she came in that morning, long gone cold.

She picked up the hot one.

"She has a good memory," he said.

"She can't read more than a handful of characters, but she remembers every sentence."

"That makes it all the more important." He pulled the window down halfway. "Say one thing, and she carries it home with her."

The desk calendar sat at his hand. He flipped a page forward, then back.

The smell of scallion oil drifted up from downstairs, following the stairwell all the way to the corner of the desk.