Justice System: I Litigate for the Whole City

Chapter 123 : Not Much Inside

When Zhou Yu came in, he had no bag in his hand.

"Came empty-handed." He Xiufen said from the stove. "Not like you."

"What needs saying today can't be carried in a bag." He hung his coat over the back of a chair and pulled a sheet of paper folded twice from his inner pocket, pressing it onto the middle of the long table. "The Hongyi account group. Four million two hundred thousand. Freeze runs until March fourteenth next year."

"And after March fourteenth?"

"It can be extended once." he said. "As long as the case isn't closed, the money can't be released early."

"When does the case close?"

"Zhou Keming's in supplementary investigation. The Hongyi account goes with it." He turned the paper around. "The money recovered on the criminal side has to wait for the judgment to take effect, then it goes back one victim at a time against the list. From judgment to your special account, there's also a transfer step in between."

"A transfer step. How long?"

"I won't give you a date."

"What about the part that got out." she asked. "Sixty percent of the two million one hundred thousand."

"The portion that went out through foreign exchange settlement goes through judicial assistance. The fast ones get a response within a year. The slow ones, I've never seen one come back." Zhou Yu said. "Don't wait on it."

He Xiufen turned the flame on the stove down and cut in: "Money that can't be recovered still needs a number written down. The money you can't even write down is what's truly lost."

She flipped "Separate File: Under Review" to the last page and wrote a figure below the final line. When she finished, she capped the pen, then uncapped it again. The schedule lay open beside this page—on the ruled rows, seventy percent could sign. Of the remaining thirty percent, most had their money sitting on the Hongyi line.

"How their money comes back isn't something my file can decide." Zhou Yu said. "But I'm here today because there is one thing that can be decided."

He pushed the paper over. Four lines of text, headed "Explanatory Statement."

"The freeze on the Hongyi account does not affect the early release of funds already transferred into the enforcement special account." He read through line by line, down to the signature block. "I'll sign this, stamp it, and send it to the Chengdong Enforcement Bureau. They need the original—I'll deliver it."

"Why are you putting this out?"

"Things written on paper carry more weight than a sentence over the phone." Zhou Yu tucked his pen into his pocket. "One more thing, said up front: this statement covers only the two sums already credited. It does not cover the Hongyi four million two hundred thousand. Don't take it to anyone and tell them the money's coming soon."

"I won't say soon." she said. "I'll say it clearly."

He Xiufen came over with a bowl of noodles, listened for a bit, and set the bowl down by her hand. "Two legs." she said. "What can be released, release first. What's frozen, wait for the criminal side. If you sit more than a thousand households down and make them wait for an account that has nothing to do with them to unfreeze, that's not conscientious."

"I'll hand-deliver it to the enforcement bureau." she said. "Wednesday."

"Along with the roster and the refund applications."

"Also add the Qingyuan Testing portion onto the same sheet. The comrade at the window last time said he only remembers it if it's all on one page."

Zhou Yu put the materials back into his inner pocket. His hand was already on the door handle when he stopped.

"The bank supplemented a thick stack of materials over the past couple days. It arrived yesterday." he said. "Signed by the same Lawyer Luo who appeared at the hearing last time."

"Supplementing what?"

"Every loan ledger Yin Jianping ever handled. The criminal side asked for it; they stalled for a month, then handed it all over at once this time."

"Hm."

"No other questions?"

"Wherever a name gets signed, that's where the responsibility sits." she said. "Director He taught me that."

Zhou Yu nodded. Already at the door, he asked one more thing: "Any word from over there?"

"The appraisal institute."

"No."

He stood there half a second as though wanting to say something more. In the end: "When there's word, don't go alone. Take someone with you."

The door closed. She returned to the table and opened "Separate File: Under Review," adding a fourth line beneath "Same Origin." Halfway through, the pen stopped. She looked up toward the stove.

"The application to change the seal card at that small bank in Chengdong—the original's with the prosecutors. He looked at it the day before yesterday."

"When was the change made?"

"March nineteenth." she said. "There's a name in the handler column. He wouldn't read it to me."

"What else."

"He said the final stroke on that entry hooks upward."

He Xiufen brought chopsticks over and studied the fourth line. Then she laid the chopsticks across the paper, careful not to touch any of the writing.

"Similar." she said. "One box left."

"He saw it himself."

"What he saw still isn't yours." He Xiufen nudged the bowl an inch closer. "Eat while it's hot."

[Thud. One pen, two ends—you've only seen half of it.]

Tang Guo came up at four thirty, the rolled-up schedule under her arm, phone against her ear, finishing her sentence as she reached the door: "...just screenshot me the text message showing the payment hit your account first, I'll rule out the grid for you. Stop rushing me." She set the phone face-down on the corner of the table, shut the window, cleared half the long table, and pulled Schedule 1 open so it hung off the edge.

"Building 3, Minsheng Road." Her finger pressed onto the sheet. "Row eleven. Ten rows can sign. One box still empty."

"The one at Chengbei Hospital."

"I'm going Saturday." Tang Guo said. "She's awake. She can write. If her husband tries to sign for her, I won't accept it—every name on this sheet has to be in the person's own hand. Her husband called me yesterday, said they still owe the hospital, asked if there's a firm date for the money."

"What did you tell him?"

"I said the money in the special account is from the court, and it has nothing to do with the Hongyi account." Tang Guo lifted her finger off that box. "I didn't dare say it'd definitely be there Tuesday."

"Tuesday is Tuesday." He Xiufen dumped a handful of chives onto a plate. "It can't come any faster. Money that comes out fast—that's when you have to ask where it came from."

"There are two more columns on the sheet." Tang Guo folded it over to show her. "One for credited, one for not credited. I copied over your two columns. The credited column gets a check mark; the not-credited stays blank. Whoever asks, I'll flip it open and show them."

"One more thing." She turned her phone over. "The group chat's blowing up."

On the screen was the Chengxi batch group. Jiang Bo had posted something, and thirty-odd voice messages followed: Chengxi's money arrived three days before Minsheng Road's—why should Minsheng Road be paid out first?

"Who said Minsheng Road goes first?"

"Me." Tang Guo said. "I know that building. I can get it all signed in one day."

"How do you plan to respond?"

"I don't know how."

"Don't." He Xiufen cut in from the stove. "Replying never reaches the end. Post the sheet. Read it once in the group tonight: who's first, who's later, all written down on paper. If it's set for Tuesday morning, it's Tuesday morning. For the next batch, which building and which day—write that down today too."

Tang Guo folded a corner of the sheet down. "Then no one can find fault."

"No fault to find, no argument to have." He Xiufen said. "When money's scarce, people fear being left out. When there's plenty, people fear being last. Write the order on paper, and every person knows which row they're in."

[Thud. Whoever goes first gets written on paper. Whoever goes later gets written on paper too.]

She pulled the stack of receipt slips from the drawer, filling them in one by one: row number, name, amount, account number. At the seventh, He Xiufen glanced over.

"Don't make a mistake on the account numbers."

"I've checked them one by one."

"Against what?"

"The payee accounts on the schedule." she said. "The seven households with no account on file—set a day to bring them to the firm. Sign in person, fingerprint, two witnesses present."

"Three of those seven work in Chengbei and are off Sunday." Tang Guo picked it up. "When I read the sheet tonight I'll ask who can come."

"You'll need a table at that location Tuesday morning."

"I'll talk to the community activity room." Tang Guo said. "Brother Ma asked in the group yesterday if anything was happening Tuesday morning—he can bring the minibus over to haul things."

"Let him haul." she said. "When it's done, tell him not to stand at the door greeting people. The way he looks, he'll get swarmed with questions."

Someone downstairs called Tang Guo's name, and the livestream light spilled in from the stairwell. Before going down, she left the rolled schedule on the table.

"That disk, then." She stopped at the top of the stairs and turned back.

"Waiting on the phone call."

"You've been saying that for two weeks."

"When the money arrives, people need to see the money." she said. "Everything else comes later."

Wednesday, He Xiufen went to the Enforcement Bureau and hand-delivered the statement, the refund applications, and the roster. Thursday, Friday, the group chat got the sheet read aloud every night—Tang Guo read figures, never unit numbers. She numbered the hundred-plus receipt slips, checked them against the accounts, clipped them with an iron binder clip, and tucked them under the edge of the glass desk pad. Those days she kept her phone on the outer corner of the desk, screen facing up.

The Hongyi account was still four million two hundred thousand—frozen, the paper reading March fourteenth. She did not call over there again.

Friday, a little past four in the afternoon, the phone rang. Number she didn't recognize, prefix from the Chengnan exchange block.

"Shen Zhixia."

"That's me."

"Qiu." One syllable, that was all.

She stood up, phone in hand.

"The disk's open."

"Disk's open."

"What's inside?"

A pause on the other end, then a sound like something being moved aside.

"Not much inside." he said. "You'll know when you get here."

"If it's empty, is it so hard to say over the phone?"

"It is."

"Then I'll come tomorrow morning."

"Get here before nine." he said. "Bring your presence paperwork."

"I'll bring a notary."

"Do."

"What if the family wants to come?"

"The authorization letter says you're the one to be present." He paused. "If they come, come after nine thirty. I've got another piece of test material at ten."

After hanging up, she stood by the desk for a while. The iron clip still held the stack of receipt slips—the top one read: Building 3, Minsheng Road, Unit 2, Room 301.

[Thud. The disk is open. The words aren't.]

She called the notary first and set it for eight forty tomorrow morning. Then she called Cen Hong. There was a PA announcement in the background at the courier hub, and a barcode scanner beeped once, then again.

"It's open?"

"Open." she said. "All he said on the phone was—not much inside."

"What does 'not much inside' mean?"

"It means I go look tomorrow morning, then read every word back to you."

"What if it's empty?"

"Then I bring it back exactly as it is." she said. "What I said last time still stands."

Cen Hong answered from the other end, and the PA announced another pickup code. She hung up and turned the phone face-down on the desk.

He Xiufen had already flipped the desk calendar to tomorrow's page, pen in hand.

"What should I write?"

"Morning. Appraisal institute." He Xiufen wrote it, then tapped the pen tip on the line below. "I'll write the next line for you: Notary present."

"I'll make a copy of the authorization letter to take along."

"Take it." He Xiufen set the pen down. "Whatever comes out tomorrow, don't be the first to speak. Let Master Qiu talk. Let the notary record. Think it over after you're back."

"Mm."

"One more thing," she looked up. "That sentence—you are not to read it aloud to outsiders on the spot."

"Which one?"

"'When someone comes asking about Baixi Village, then you bring it out.'" He Xiufen said. "The family's exact words. Read them only to the people who are meant to hear them."

The noodles had been served a while ago. They'd gone soft and stuck together. She took the bowl and ate it, mouthful by mouthful.