Chapter 480: Approval of Arrest

"The third one."

November 19, 10:00 a.m. Tang Guo's message arrived first, the screenshot following behind it.

She enlarged the image. A new bulletin:

Han So-and-so, suspected of perjury, aiding in the destruction and fabrication of evidence, and obstruction of testimony, has been approved for arrest by the procuratorial organ. The case is under further investigation.

The November 11 notice had said "lawfully placed in criminal detention." This one swapped out that half of the sentence. The three charges were unchanged, as was the closing line: "The case is under further investigation."

The previous notice had been issued by the branch bureau. This one was issued by the Procuratorate. The same string of charges, moved from one agency's pen to another's, eight days in between.

Tang Guo added a line: This one wasn't issued by the branch bureau.

She replied: Where's it from?

Tang Guo: Posted on the Procuratorate side. Someone reposted it; I cropped the edges.

She replied: Got it.

Tang Guo: Some people are DMing me, asking if it's that guy named Han. I haven't replied.

She replied: Don't.

Tang Guo: I'm not posting it. Comments are off.

She replied: Keep them off.

Across the table, Li Huilan looked up from the intake register. "Han So-and-so. Approved?"

"Approved."

"Someone reposted it this morning, just one line about approval of arrest. I thought someone was spreading rumors." Li Huilan set her pen down. "So now it's on paper."

"It's on paper."

"I've chased the labor contractor once." Li Huilan pushed the correction notice on the table a little toward her. "He says he'll submit it by the twentieth."

"I'll look at it on the twentieth."

Under the window, He Xiufen sat in the old wooden chair, a bundle of receipts resting on top of the newspaper. "Read it to me."

She held the phone over. He Xiufen didn't take it; instead she fished the reading glasses out of her apron pocket, put them on, and only then reached for it.

She read word by word, stopping at "approved for arrest." She held the phone farther away and read it again from the beginning.

"Taken away the morning of the tenth," He Xiufen said.

"Yeah."

"Today's the nineteenth." He Xiufen took her glasses off and hung them on her finger. "Nine days. Nine days where the branch bureau was writing up the file and the Procuratorate was reviewing it."

"This step means the Procuratorate accepted that stack."

"Means it accepted this person has to be held for now." He Xiufen said. "There are still several steps behind it."

"I know. I told Tang Guo: early."

"Early." He Xiufen said. "After approval comes more investigation. After investigation comes transfer. The Procuratorate goes through it all again. Only after indictment does it go to trial. This step looks like the end, but it's the middle."

"Yeah."

"His case: taken away on the tenth, nine days to today." He Xiufen pushed the phone back to the edge of her desk. "Your father's case: hearing ended October 26, twenty-four days to today."

She didn't answer.

"The trial time limit has been extended once."

"Extended once. The paper has a date; it was extended according to law." He Xiufen said. "Don't count the days. Counting won't make it faster."

"I can't rush it."

"I'm not rushing it." He Xiufen put the reading glasses back in her pocket. "When those four pages of yours went in, I didn't stop you. Whose work it is now, is whose work."

"I know."

Back on November 1 at the window, the officer had informed her, as required, what responsibility she'd bear for a false accusation. Today, the words that landed on this piece of paper were "approved for arrest." The four pages she'd submitted had grown into a few lines on someone else's paper. Not long. No extra words.

In the nine days since, she'd taken cases as usual, run to the court to hand in documents as usual, and hadn't called the branch bureau once. The paper said "under further investigation." Asking would only get her words already on the paper.

"Don't print this one either," He Xiufen said. "The bulletin is for outsiders. The papers in your hand are the ones that matter to you."

Downstairs the exhaust fan started up, and the smell of scallion oil drifted up the stairs. She set her phone face-down on the desk.

"Tell him?" He Xiufen asked.

"He's right here."

"Here in this room, not here in his ears."

She didn't answer. The half-door of the inner room hadn't moved the whole time.

At 2:00 p.m., someone downstairs called the second-floor number. Li Huilan went down and came back with a kraft paper envelope.

"From the court." She placed it on her desk without letting go. "Both your names printed on one line."

The upper left corner of the envelope bore the district court's name. The recipient line read "Shen Zhixia, Lu Jibai," separated by a comma. The address was this building, second floor. The postmark on the back was stamped the seventeenth.

She slit the seal with a utility knife and pulled out one sheet. One page, everything filled in, nothing left blank.

"The March case," she said. "It's been indicted."

"Which one?" Li Huilan asked.

"That car at the mouth of the lane on the night of March 18."

That night needed no notebook. The plate was covered; the car was gray; the headlights came from inside the lane, cutting sideways over the three stone steps at the noodle shop's entrance. He'd raised an arm and pulled her back, his left arm shielding her from the outside. Later the tear was on his sleeve. Not much blood. She only saw it when she was washing.

He Xiufen put on her glasses and held out a hand. "Give it here."

She passed the sheet over. He Xiufen read from the top: this case had been publicly prosecuted by the District Procuratorate in the District Court. Below that, a few lines explained what the victims could do—they could appoint litigation agents, they could bring an incidental civil action, they had the right to appear in court. The last line: the hearing date would be notified separately.

"Three people," He Xiufen said.

"The paper says three people."

"The three who were approved for arrest in March. Not one missing." He Xiufen flipped the sheet over to check the back, then turned it back. "Date to be set."

"'To be set' means it isn't set," Li Huilan said.

"Whether to appoint an agent, whether to bring an incidental civil claim—a word has to be said before the hearing." He Xiufen pressed the paper down on the table. "I'm listening."

"I'm not making any claim," she said.

"And him?"

"His business is for him to say."

He Xiufen looked up at her briefly and didn't press. The half-door of the inner room swung fully open from the other side. He came out, walked to the desk, and picked up the page.

He read even slower than she had. When he finished, he laid the paper down and smoothed it flat.

"That day I lifted a hand," he said. "That tear in the sleeve—I only saw it afterward."

She didn't answer.

"I'm leaving the incidental civil claim section blank." He was still talking about the page. "I don't want money."

"Okay."

"On the day of the hearing, I'll sit in the last row." He picked up his teacup. "It's quieter in back."

He Xiufen took off her reading glasses and set them on the page. "This case: the two of you will go sit together."

He froze with the teacup halfway to his mouth.

"The first row of the gallery," He Xiufen said. "That's where victims sit in court. Neither of you can hide from it. If you're going, go together. One seat apart is fine too."

She didn't answer.

He didn't either. The teacup went back on the table with a small clack.

"Names printed on one piece of paper means the people have to be in the courtroom." He Xiufen pushed the page toward her. "I didn't set that rule. They wrote it."

"Once in court, victims get one small slot to speak. Whether you speak is up to you." He Xiufen looked down at the page again. "And it stays inside that slot. One extra word and they won't let you say it."

Li Huilan took the page to make a photocopy. She gave the copy to Shen Zhixia and pushed the original toward him.

She slipped her copy into the March case folder, beneath everything else. He folded the original in half, then folded it again, and tucked it into his inside pocket. There was already one there—the October 20 court notice, folded the same way.

At 5:30 p.m., Li Huilan locked up the intake register and left first. He Xiufen carried the dustpan downstairs. At 6:00 p.m., two people remained on the second floor. Neither mentioned the page.

She put her bag over her shoulder and walked to the stairs. "The light in the inner room."

"I'll turn it off."

November 21, 9:00 p.m. Home.

The dishes were washed, the rag hung over the edge of the sink. Zhi'an was in the inner room, the door closed, a sliver of light escaping from the crack. She sat down at the desk, opened the notebook, and turned to a fresh page near the back.

At the top she wrote: November 19.

Below it, a line: Approval of arrest.

After writing, she didn't lift the pen. She wanted to add one more line below—to record what had happened at 2:00 p.m. that day as well. Two names printed on one line, hearing date to be notified separately. The pen hovered over the paper but didn't land. Those two things weren't one matter. Writing them together would make them look like one.

She pulled out the sheet tucked near the back of the notebook. The November 1 case receipt. Folded several times over, the edges starting to fray. She smoothed it out, glanced at the date, folded it back the way it had been, aligning the creases.

In the past half month, three sheets of paper had landed in her hands: this one, the case-filing notice delivered to the office on November 8, and the page she'd filed into the March case folder on the nineteenth. The shortest of the three was the first. A date and a stamp, filled in by that officer at the window. The four pages she'd written herself were in the branch bureau's file, not among these three. The other notices existed only in her phone. Not one had been printed.

Her phone lit up in the corner of the desk. A message from Tang Guo: Should I delete that screenshot? She replied: Keep it. Save it to your computer, not your photo album.

There was still one empty line at the bottom of the page. She'd been sitting there a while, and there was nothing she could write there yet.

The inner room door opened. Zhi'an came out to get water and set his cup on the edge of the desk. The thermos lost half its water. When he'd finished pouring, he didn't leave. He stood beside her, his gaze falling on the open page.

"That person... he's the one from that year—"

"What he said in court, he said himself." She nudged the notebook a little toward her. "Everything else—wait for the court."

"I saw him in court." Zhi'an said. "He stood and answered. Every question Auntie He asked, he answered. When he was done, he walked to the door without once turning his head toward us."

"Yeah."

"Do you think he'll deny it?"

"Whether he denies it or not isn't on this paper." She said. "What's on the paper is what he himself said in court."

Zhi'an held the cup in both hands, the steam rising.

"Dad's case. What's happening?"

"Waiting for notice. The trial time limit was extended once."

"Does an extension mean they're not sure?"

"The case file is thick. Every word those people said in court has to be checked line by line." She said. "It's the collegial panel's work. I can't rush it."

"Can you?"

"No."

"Is Lawyer Lu going that day too?" Zhi'an asked again. "The car case hearing."

"In that case, he's a victim too."

"Then you'll sit together."

She closed the notebook, then opened it again. "Go to sleep."

Zhi'an picked up his water and walked to the inner room door, pausing there. "Can I go to the hearing?"

"There aren't many gallery seats, and you have school that day."

"I'll wait at the door for you to come out."

She capped the pen, then unscrewed it again. "Wait, then."

The door closed. The inner room light stayed on.

She laid the pen at the edge of the page, nib pointed at the empty space below. Downstairs, the building's entrance door thudded. Footsteps came in and climbed the stairs, one flight at a time. She didn't look up.