Chapter 466: The Twenty-Sixth

At ten o'clock on October 20, those heels sounded on the stairs again, coming up step by step, pausing at the half-landing for a breath, then climbing on.

"Zhengping Firm. Court documents."

He Xiufen went over to take it. The man raised the envelope slightly and looked first at the front. "Recipient: Lu Jibai."

"Is he in?"

"Has to sign in person."

He Xiufen tilted her chin toward the inner office. She was sitting at her own desk, pen tip resting motionless on the page. A chair creaked in the back room, and he came out, shirtsleeves rolled halfway up.

The man pulled a proof-of-service slip from the crook of his arm and handed it over with a pen. Lu Jibai pressed the slip against the edge of the desk and signed, handed the pen back. The cc slip was torn off and tucked into the man's arm.

"Twenty-sixth, nine o'clock, First Courtroom." The man said, "Wait in the witness room. Don't stand around in the hallway waiting to be called."

"Understood."

The heels descended step by step to the first floor. The envelope stayed unopened in his hand as he carried it back into the inner office. From outside came the sound of paper, very soft—once, twice, then stopped.

He Xiufen pushed her glasses up and looked toward the half-open door. "What does it say?"

"Case type, time, place, which courtroom." He said, "Bring ID, report on time."

"What else?"

"Wait for court in the witness room."

"Witnesses aren't allowed to sit in the gallery." He Xiufen said, "You wait over there. Go in only when they call you."

"I know."

"After you testify, if the presiding judge allows you to sit inside—will you?"

The inner office went quiet for a beat. "Depends on the court."

He Xiufen didn't ask further. She slid the pen back into its holder. She lowered her head, touched the pen tip to the edge of the paper, pressing a small blot of ink into the ruled line. She looked at the characters on the envelope: Lu Jibai. Printed, neat and square, sitting in the recipient line. Nine years ago, the name on that sample delivery slip had been written in his own hand, stroke by stroke, slower than these printed characters.

Li Huilan came through the front door with a bag of tangerines, glanced at the front of the envelope. "It's been delivered."

"Delivered." He Xiufen said.

"On the twenty-sixth, in the morning—are we locking the office?"

"No." He Xiufen said, "The noodle shop stays open as usual. Anyone who wants to come in for a glass of water can. Sit for a while, fine. No one will be hovering."

Li Huilan set the tangerines on the windowsill and went back to her desk.

At 10:20, she flipped the desk calendar to the twenty-sixth and glanced at the pencil writing in that square: "Court. 9:00. First Courtroom." Then she flipped it back. He Xiufen looked at her from under the window, said nothing.

October 20, 8 p.m. Her home.

The water in the pot was at a full boil when there was a knock. Zhi'an went to open the door. Tang Guo came in carrying a bag of roasted sweet potatoes, the heat puffing the plastic bag tight.

"I've finished replying to all the private messages." She set the bag on the table. "The ones who said they'd come—I asked them one by one. Nine confirmed. Two still undecided. One says her husband won't let her come; one has to ask at the shop."

"Nine is enough."

"One of the women asked if she can bring a banner." Tang Guo pulled a photo up on her phone and slid it over. Red cloth spread on a sofa, printed with the words "Justice." "She says it's already made. Asked if she can hold it up outside the gate."

"No."

"I told her that too. She said she won't make any noise, just hold it and stand for a while."

"Not even holding it. The court entrance doesn't get banners. The moment one goes up, it turns into something else." She said, "Just tell her: showing up is enough."

"Okay." Tang Guo deleted the photo. "Another one asked what color to wear."

"Wear anything. Nothing with words on it."

"Got it." Tang Guo peeled a sweet potato and broke it open, handing her the bigger half. "Once inside, can we take a couple of photos? She says she won't post them—just keep them for herself."

"No photos in the courtroom. And none at the entrance either."

"Not even the entrance?"

"Not even the entrance." She said, "Your account—don't touch it that day."

"I won't. I'll power my phone off and put it in my bag. Turn it back on after court lets out. Livestream moves to after ten p.m." Tang Guo bit into her sweet potato. "I just take one photo at the gate—no?"

"You take one, someone else takes ten. You won't be the only person standing out there."

Tang Guo thought about it, put her phone face-down on the table. "Fine. No photos."

Zhi'an stood nearby holding a glass of water. "Sis, what time are we leaving on the twenty-sixth?"

"Seven thirty."

"I'll go with you."

"You don't need to go with me." She said, "Line up at the court entrance. Stand with Tang Guo. Sit near the front once inside."

"By myself?"

"By yourself. If you want to talk, wait until court is out."

"Won't talk." Zhi'an said, "So where does Director He sit?"

"The defense bench. Her own table."

"When she reads something, should I stand?"

"No. Nobody stands."

Tang Guo was peeling a second sweet potato. "I'll sit in the row behind Zhi'an. If he turns around, I'll see him."

"Sit wherever you like. Just don't sit next to him."

"Master Ma says a few of them are coming wearing their helmets." Tang Guo said, "Can helmets be brought in?"

"They won't get through. Tell them to leave them on their scooters or check them at the entrance. Don't walk around holding them."

"Then I'll make it clear." Tang Guo typed two lines on her phone, reading aloud as she wrote: "Bring ID. Arrive before 8:20. Line up and register. No banners, no water bottles, no signs, no photos at the gate."

"Water bottles aren't allowed either?"

"I don't know whether they are." She said, "Just tell them not to bring them. Saves trouble."

Tang Guo put her phone down and asked suddenly: "The thing Director He is reading that day—have you heard it?"

"No."

"What if she doesn't read it?"

"It's her paper. If she reads it, she reads it. If she doesn't, she doesn't."

Zhi'an set his glass back on the table and went to the back room.

October 21, 4 p.m. The landline rang. The first thing on the other end was a gust of wind that half-blocked the receiver before a voice came through.

"Lawyer Shen, it's me. Qingru."

"You're outside."

"At the edge of the ditch." She moved the phone closer to her mouth. "Today is the one hundred eightieth day. It's here."

"It's here."

"The second section was finished at the end of last month. Ditch bottom lined, slopes re-covered with soil, grass seed scattered, saplings planted at the start of October." Another gust of wind blew past. "Not all of them took yet. Have to wait for spring next year."

"Has the replanting count been done?"

"Not yet. The seedlings just got their roots in. Count them now, the numbers won't be accurate." Cai Qingru said, "We've told the third party we'll do the count at the beginning of November. Count and fill the form on the spot."

"Who fills in the confirmer column?"

"It's blank." Cai Qingru said, "On the count day, whoever counts watches the signing."

"Auntie Chai has to be there."

"She has to be. She can't read; she presses her thumbprint, and I write her name next to her." From the other end came the sound of a vehicle passing over a dirt road. "Once the count date is set, I'll let you know a day ahead. You call her then. She's been going to the factory gate a lot these past couple of days—lots of trucks there."

"What's she doing at the factory gate?"

"The workshop was shut down for a spell. She was checking whether the factory posted any notices." Cai Qingru said, "They've resumed operations now."

"What does the ditch look like now?"

"You can see stones now." Cai Qingru said, "When we came last year, the water was gray and you couldn't see the bottom. The grass hasn't filled in yet—bare patches here and there on the slope."

"Have you logged your form?"

"Logged. The acceptance date is set by the Intermediate Court. Once it's set, I'll bring the form and get the third party to sign." A pause. "After it's signed, I'll photocopy a set and send it to your office to replace the old one you have."

"Good."

"One more thing." Cai Qingru said, "Under that old walnut tree in the village, someone moved two benches over this morning and sat in the sun. They were talking about your father's case. I passed by and heard—didn't join in."

"What were they saying."

"About the case from nine years ago. About who wrote what back then, who took money." Cai Qingru said, "They didn't know I was listening."

She held the receiver and said nothing.

"You want me to ask around and find out who's saying it?"

"No." She said, "They sit there and talk. Pretend you didn't hear."

October 22, 11 a.m. The landline rang again. He Xiufen picked up, listened, then looked up at her: "You listen too."

She moved her chair closer.

"The court appearance notices for all three have been served." The voice on the other end said.

"One at a time." He Xiufen said.

"The one from the mountain—I went up yesterday morning with an officer from the town police station. He was home. Signed it himself. After signing, he asked what time to leave."

"What about his son?"

"His son says he'll come down with him. On the twenty-sixth, the bus leaves the village at six. The vehicle can't make it up the slope at the village entrance, so it parks at the fork below."

"The one from Hengzheng."

"Front desk signed for it. After the signing, he called the court himself to ask if it was nine o'clock."

"What did you say?"

"I said nine o'clock, First Courtroom, wait in the witness room."

He Xiufen hummed. "Is there water set aside in the witness room for them?"

"Yes, a water dispenser."

"The one from the mountain takes his hot." He Xiufen said, "He doesn't drink cold."

A pause on the other end, the scratch of a pen on paper. "I'll note it on the dispatch slip and clip it with the route sheet."

"Just remember it."

After hanging up the receiver, He Xiufen said: "All three served."

Li Huilan answered from the outer office: "All here."

She opened her notebook, wrote the date at the top of the page, and one line below: Court notices—all three served. Then capped her pen, more gently than usual.

5 p.m. Her phone rang. The number on the screen was saved in her contacts, the name followed by "Qingshi."

"Little Shen."

"Auntie Chai."

"Took Xiaoyu to the city today." Chai Guizhi said, "Blood draw. The report came out this afternoon."

"How much?"

Paper rustled on the other end. "Ninety-six."

She gripped her phone and let half the tension out of her shoulders.

"What's the range printed on the report?"

"Zero to one hundred." Chai Guizhi read slowly. "A zero in front, a dash in the middle, one hundred after."

"Ninety-six. Inside the range."

"Inside." Chai Guizhi said, "The doctor says it's within the safe range now."

"Did the doctor say anything else?"

"Said to retest in a year. Last time he said six months; this time, a year." Chai Guizhi said, "Last time was one forty-seven."

"Who wrote that number down?"

"He wrote it himself. Came home and spread the notebook open on the table, took that red pen, wrote it under the April number."

"He remembers it?"

"He remembers. He wrote the April number himself. He knows what it looks like."

She switched the phone to her other ear. "Auntie Chai, in a few days there's the seedling count. You'll need to go to the ditch."

"What day?"

"I'll call you the day before once it's set." She said, "You go and stand there, watch them count. When they're done, press your thumbprint on the form."

"I can't read numbers."

"You don't need to. The counter reads them aloud; just listen. You press the thumbprint, and Qingru writes your name for you."

"All right." Chai Guizhi said, "Pressing a thumbprint, I can do that."

"Press it in that box. Don't let it land in the wrong one."

"I know that spot." Chai Guizhi said, "That column's empty. I saw it last time."

Someone called from the yard on the other end. Chai Guizhi answered "Coming," then came back.

"Some people in the village have been saying these last few days that on the twenty-sixth they'll go into the city and sit in the courtroom." She said, "I asked who said it, and no one could say for sure. They just said the court's doors are open."

"The doors are open. Anyone who wants to sit can sit. Bring ID and register at the gate."

"I can't walk that far."

"You don't need to go." She said, "That day's business—I'll call you after court lets out."

"Mm."

On the other end, the faint clink of bowls. Chai Guizhi shifted her phone.

"Xiaoyu says he wants to go to court that day."

"He has school."

"That's what I told him too."