Justice System: I Litigate for the Whole City

Chapter 142 : The Same Minute

Sunday morning, the printer at Zhengping Firm jammed for the third time. Shen Zhixia lifted the back cover, pulled a crumpled sheet from the feed slot, smoothed it twice against her palm, and fed it back in.

"Don't smooth it." He Xiufen came out of the inner office holding a mug of hot water. "Smoothing won't stop it jamming. Use a fresh sheet."

She swapped in new paper. The machine spat pages out one by one. Application for Medical Damage Appraisal, three pages, edges still warm. When the last page came out, she pressed off the little indicator light on the printer.

Four items lay spread across the desk: the sealing inventory and duplicate copies from New Year's Day, the Medical Affairs Office on-site record from January 21st, the attachment to that letter dated January 6th, and her notebook from the past two weeks. She pulled out a blank sheet and drew a horizontal line across the top.

Along that line, she marked four dates from left to right: the 27th, the 30th, the 4th, the 6th. Under each date she wrote two lines—what words had appeared on paper that day, and who had been present.

"The 27th, six twenty." She said.

"Three places." He Xiufen pointed at three of the items. "One in the signature field on the notice form, one in the last-modified timestamp on the electronic medical record's rescue notes, one line in the notebook at the nurses' station."

"Of the three, only one could be retraced with a pen." Shen Zhixia said. "The line at the nurses' station—the ink is darker than the lines above and below it, and there are two shallow indentations under it. The notice form is handwritten. The rescue note timestamp is inside the machine."

"And the one inside the machine can't be wiped by anyone." He Xiufen set her mug down. "That's why the other two had to be made to match it. Once they matched, that minute looked like someone standing at the bedside."

[Thud. Three timestamps fall into the same minute, and you have a shift schedule.]

"The 30th, nine forty." She wrote it down.

"The medical record was pulled from the records room." He Xiufen said. "Five characters in the register: 'Medical record retrieved.' The entry in the nurses' station retention log was torn out along with that page, leaving half a character on the left."

"The 4th, afternoon." She wrote. "Three people from the department called into the office. A three-line shift handover record copied out as five lines. The two extra lines read 'Family notified of autopsy.' The day they copied it, the transcribed version got tucked into the retention log."

"The 6th." He Xiufen took over. "The Explanatory Note goes out. Every hand that touched this medical record lands under one person's name."

Four dates arranged on a single page. He Xiufen studied them for a while.

"Pulling the original on the night of the 30th was about that one shift." She said. "Changing a character at night is easy. The hard part is smoothing out the timestamps that don't line up. Pull the original first, buy yourself one night. Send the cleaned-up version back, and when you go up with the family to seal it, what you see is the version they want you to see. Finally, right under your nose, the line at the nurses' station gets retraced, the handover record gets rewritten. Each step later than the last, each step further out."

"Further out to where?"

"Further out to your hands." He Xiufen said. "The conclusion—tampered medical record—lands on Dr. Lin alone."

Shen Zhixia pressed her pen tip against the space under "the 6th" but didn't write.

"This whole operation—it ran pretty smooth."

"Smooth or not isn't in this stack of paper." He Xiufen said. "Next time you're in the records room, count the entries in that access register—how many files in the last two years were pulled at night and returned the next day."

"Okay."

"Court tomorrow morning." He Xiufen said. "The application asks three questions, nothing else: Did the hospital commit fault in treating her? If so, is there a causal link to her death? What percentage?"

"Just those three."

"Just those three." He Xiufen said. "If you want to ask why they altered the records, that's your own question. The appraiser only looks at the treatment."

"I wrote a separate page for the materials index." Shen Zhixia slipped the page out. "Which pages in this volume are the defendant's edited transcriptions, which page has erasure marks, which line has two indentations, where the original is sealed right now—each entry matched to a page."

He Xiufen read it twice. "This page is worth more than those three questions up top." She said. "The appraiser has to know the material is dirty first. Then the opinion can hold up."

"There's also a line under 'Pending.'" She said. "The autopsy report isn't out yet. Dr. Zhong said ten days if fast, a month if slow. I left it blank."

Her phone rang. The three characters on the screen were Peng Weidong.

"Don't worry about the fee." She answered, jumping in first. "The firm advances it. It goes on the case."

He paused on the other end. "Director He said the same thing last time."

"She meant it."

"I know." He said. "I picked up three night shifts. Money's not a problem. I just wanted to ask—how long does the appraisal take?"

"It won't be quick."

"The child's name," he paused, "Xiaoman picked it out. It's written in a notebook. On the day of the cremation, I want to write it out in full."

She held the phone, glancing at the sheet with the four dates.

"Write it in full." She said. "I'll go over with the funeral home tomorrow what goes on the form."

He Xiufen waited until she'd hung up to speak. "Hold off on scheduling the cremation. What I'm waiting for hasn't arrived yet."

* * *

January 25th, Monday, 9:10 a.m. The number dispenser at the Chengnan District People's Court Litigation Service Center spat out her ticket—third in line. The man ahead of her at the window was asking about an enforcement inquiry and needed two explanations before understanding he should go to Window No. 3.

Her turn. She took the two copies of the Application for Medical Damage Appraisal and the appraisal materials volume from her file envelope and placed them squarely on the counter.

The clerk who received them was a young judicial assistant. He flipped through the application first, then the index. At the index page he stopped and looked up.

"This line," he read aloud, "'Page three of this volume is a cleaned-up transcription submitted by the defendant; the original is sealed in the defendant's records room. The nursing record on page five contains erasure marks across the eighth line; the corresponding line on page nine has two indentation marks; the original retention log has not been delivered to the court.'"

"I wrote it."

"You had to write this?"

"Yes." She said. "When the appraiser receives the materials, the pages that have been touched have to be flagged up front."

The assistant tapped his pen twice under that line, compared the two index pages again, and asked nothing further. He stamped them—two stamps, red pressed into the upper right corner of the first page. One copy stayed; one slid back to her.

"I'll forward the application to the presiding judge today." The assistant said. "If the defendant objects, they'll be given a deadline to respond."

"The deadline for those three originals expires tomorrow." She said. "The day the obstetrics shift handover record and the original Nursing Retention Log are delivered to the court, please schedule a time for both sides to examine that tear in the light."

The assistant wrote a line in his notebook. "When it's delivered, I'll notify you."

[Thud. Knowing which page is a copy matters more than knowing which page is real.]

Coming down the stairs, Tang Guo was waiting at the bottom step. Her electric scooter stood in the shade, kickstand down, helmet cradled in the crook of her arm.

"Did you film it?"

"No."

"Then I came all the way here for nothing." Tang Guo pushed the helmet into Shen Zhixia's arms. "Get on. Back to the firm or to the hospital?"

"The hospital. Two thirty."

"Then it's on my way." Tang Guo twisted the throttle. "That envelope of yours—leave it unsealed. I won't film it, I won't ask."

* * *

The time had come from Director Xu the day before yesterday afternoon: Monday, 2:30 p.m., Medical Affairs Office.

The conference room on the second floor of the Chengbei Hospital administration building wasn't large—one long table, a thermos of water, three paper cups. Huang Weizhong sat by the window, jacket draped over the back of his chair; Director Xu sat to his left. At 2:29, Huang Weizhong filled the cups and pushed them toward the two women.

"We've asked you here today at the hospital's request." He said. "The appraisal—we'll cooperate. No recusal motions, no stalling. The hospital can advance the appraisal fee."

Director Xu added: "The originals you asked for will be delivered to the court tomorrow."

Shen Zhixia didn't touch the cup.

"Just one thing." Huang Weizhong pulled the cup back. "Withdraw the application to call Dr. Lin as a witness."

He Xiufen's hand under the table went still. Shen Zhixia looked up at him.

"Withdraw it, and the rest we handle through the court." He said. "When the appraisal comes back, we pay what we owe."

"Why her?"

"Dr. Lin is the handler named on those record pages." Huang Weizhong spoke slowly. "If she takes the witness stand, her testimony won't match the account the hospital has settled on for her. Two versions—one of them has to step down."

"So you picked her."

"We didn't pick her." He said. "She's the one who was on duty that night."

Shen Zhixia twisted the cap of her pen down, then back up.

"Her practice certificate—between suspension and revocation, it comes down to one document from this hospital." Huang Weizhong paused. "She's upstairs right now."

[Thud. The step he's willing to take has someone else standing underneath it.]

"The appraisal is something the court organizes by procedure." She said. "If the hospital is willing to cooperate, write it up on one page and I'll deliver it to the court this afternoon. Once the paper is there, I'll copy the filing receipt for Director Xu tomorrow."

"The paper can be written."

"I'm not withdrawing the witness application." She said. "The application has Dr. Lin's name on it. Whether she signs is her call, and whether it's withdrawn should be hers too. She hasn't signed today—she's still thinking it over. If I shut that door for her, that's a decision I can't make for her."

"You can't make it for her." Huang Weizhong looked at her. "Can she?"

"Director Huang." He Xiufen pushed the paper cup back. An untouched cup of water turned half a circle on the table. "Put the part about advancing fees into your written materials and I'll note it. Nothing else needs preparing. Tomorrow the originals arrive at court, and we'll ask the judge to have both sides examine that tear together—you don't need to arrange that step for us, either."

Huang Weizhong smiled, briefly. "Fine." He said. "I've said my piece."

Before heading downstairs, He Xiufen said: "I'm going to sit with Qi Xiuyun in the records room for a bit, take a look at that access register."

The elevator was stopped on the second floor. Shen Zhixia stood at the door, pressing the button once.

A door at the far end of the corridor opened.

The person who came out was Lin Qi. Gray sweater, a canvas bag on one shoulder, a kraft envelope in her hand. She walked to the elevator and stopped.

"What did they say to you?"

"They want me to withdraw the application to call you as a witness." Shen Zhixia said. "Withdraw it, and only then will they cooperate with the appraisal."

Lin Qi's fingers tightened around the envelope.

"Then withdraw it."

"Why?"

Lin Qi stared at the numbers above the elevator door. The number sat at the first floor, unmoving.

"I don't know." She said.

The doors opened. She stepped in and pressed the button for the first floor. Before the doors closed, Shen Zhixia caught a clear look at the envelope—still unsealed, the corner of a paper sticking out with half a red seal pressed across it.

He Xiufen came up the stairway holding a slip of paper with rows noted down.

"Counted them all." She said. "Pulled at night, returned the next day, within the last two years—nine files. Two more sat out for half a month."

She held the slip out. Shen Zhixia didn't take it.

"...What did she say?"

"She said, 'Then withdraw it.'"

He Xiufen folded the slip and tucked it into her pocket, glancing at the elevator door.

"Withdraw whose?" She asked.