Justice System: I Litigate for the Whole City

Chapter 163 : Oral Statement Committed to Paper

"Those few lines you wrote down — tear them off."

He Xiufen pushed her reading glasses down from the bridge of her nose and tapped a finger on the paper. Left column, four rows of recorded times, every row in Shen Zhixia's own handwriting. "From today on, stop treating your own writing as if it could serve as evidence."

"I wasted two hours taking all that down."

"Not wasted." He Xiufen lifted her enamel mug and took a sip of water, the base clinking against the glass desktop. "What you wrote down is what you need to ask tomorrow. Evidence has to be written by someone else."

She turned the page toward the window. The smell of scallion oil from the noodle shop downstairs crept up through the gap in the stairwell, followed by the gurgle of boiling broth.

"Of these four lines, which one was written by someone else?"

Shen Zhixia glanced at it. "Not a single one."

"Then this page doesn't count as paper yet." He Xiufen said. "Over the phone yesterday, he did say a couple of things for you. 'Oral statement' — that phrase, he admitted it himself. He also said the person who did the actual writing was someone in his office."

"He admitted it was oral, so I can't use it." Shen Zhixia said. "What your ears hear can't be submitted to a court."

"So what you're submitting isn't his words." He Xiufen pointed toward the window. "It's three pages. Those three pages came out of the Medical Affairs Office, went to the hospital car, then to that window in Ningchuan. Now, along that route, did it also pass this court building?"

"It did — it went around it."

"When something goes around the court, it doesn't appear in the court's receipt register." He Xiufen set the mug down. "I'll give this route a name: Oral Statement Committed to Paper. Words come out of one man's mouth, land on paper, the paper gets stamped, and the page count is all arranged for you. But along the entire journey, there's not a single receiving seal."

"Then what do I do?"

"Put it in front of someone who can be questioned."

"Your father got burned on this same thing back in the day." She added. "The papers in his hands were all genuine. But if you can't explain whose hands they came from, they become someone else's papers."

Shen Zhixia didn't respond to that. She pulled out three sheets of draft paper and squared the edges.

The first one was short: Objection to the Defendant's Direct Submission of Materials to the Appraisal Institution — requesting clarification that the materials the defendant submitted directly to the appraisal institution on February 18 and 19 twice were never recorded in this court's receipt register, and therefore cannot serve as a basis for appraisal, nor can they become the source of any appraisal conclusion.

"Don't write the phrase 'went around the court' in the body text." He Xiufen was watching from the side. "Write the fact: not recorded in this court's receipt register. Write emotion, and the judge will only see emotion."

The second was the Application for Evidence Collection. It requested the court to send an official letter to the first-floor intake window of the Ningchuan Qiushi Judicial Appraisal Office, seeking the two batches of materials received at 4:20 PM on February 18 and 9:40 AM on February 19, along with the corresponding receipt register; copies must bear the institution's seal; and the institution should be directed to provide a written explanation regarding this case — as of the date the letter arrives, what materials it has received, and which set has been used as the basis for appraisal.

She was halfway through the third when she stopped.

"Where are you stuck?"

"I don't know which thing to demand he explain." She said. "Who wrote those three pages — he can say the office wrote them. Who delivered them — he can say 'whoever I sent is who went.'"

"Then don't ask about the person." He Xiufen rapped a knuckle on the table. "Ask the three pages themselves: who spoke, who wrote, who stamped, and who reported those five words at the window. Four things, written on paper. Whatever he can't answer, he has to answer; if he won't answer, record that he didn't answer."

Shen Zhixia lowered her head and finished the third one: Application for an Order Requiring the Defendant to Provide a Written Explanation of the Formation of the Appraisal Materials — directing the defendant to provide a written explanation of how the three-page Version Description of Appraisal Materials was created, the person who wrote it, the person who handled it, and the person who submitted it, with the signature of the process server attached.

The three drafts dried. She clipped them together with a paper clip. He Xiufen gave her another look. "Receipt slips come in two copies. You're only watching one — whoever holds the other copy will be the one to acknowledge it later. Copy down the serial number."

Her phone buzzed. A voice message from the rider group squeezed out of the speaker slot, Ma Jianjun's booming voice: "What's the latest on the Peng family thing? Someone in the group's asking." She held down the voice key and replied, "Don't discuss cases in the group," then after a moment's thought, added, "The baby should be able to come home in the next couple of days."

Right after, Tang Guo sent a line of text: The three videos are still being held. Until when?

She replied: Hold until after March 5.

He Xiufen drained the last sip of water from her mug. "Eat some noodles before you go. If you don't, those three documents won't make it to the third floor."

[Thud. The path paper travels can be traced back from the other end.]

Two o'clock in the afternoon, third floor of the courthouse.

The girl at the receiving window counted the three documents twice, stamped one copy of the two-part receipt, handed one back, and filed the other away. Shen Zhixia copied the receipt serial number into the fifth row of the left-column page.

As she turned, Song Qiming was walking up from the far end of the second-floor hallway, a kraft paper envelope tucked under his arm, the flap unsealed.

"What are you submitting?"

"A Situational Statement from the hospital." He tightened his grip on the envelope, his shirt collar buttoned to the very top. "I submit as instructed; I don't write as instructed."

"Does it say who wrote those three pages?"

"I read it three times." He said. "It doesn't."

She handed him the copied sheet — six columns, word for word unchanged, the five characters "Page-Number Correspondence" circled, the loop slightly ragged. Song Qiming took it and looked it over. Someone pushed a file cart down the hallway, the wheels rattling for a long stretch.

When he handed it back, his finger paused on the circle.

"Those five words — they're not in the materials the hospital gave me." He said. "If you want to subpoena it, subpoena it. Once it comes in, I'll respond."

"Respond with what?"

"With whatever's in the records." Song Qiming said. "Anything the records don't contain, I won't speak for it. Anything the records do contain, I won't delete it for them either."

The presiding judge met with her briefly in the small office at the far end of the third floor. All three applications were accepted. The case handler studied the date column, circling it.

"These two batches of materials — the court indeed has no receipt record for them." The presiding judge said. "A letter to the appraisal institution can be sent. A written explanation can also be requested. How far this goes depends on whose papers you're asking about, and which day's events."

She placed the handwritten copied sheet on the desk too. The handler glanced at it and pushed it back. "Keep this one. It's in your own hand, so it doesn't count as material — just a reminder for me."

"I'll ask which set is sitting on his desk."

"That's a question for open court." The handler stacked the three applications neatly. "The scope of materials is for the court to determine. Wait for notice."

She left and picked up the day's service materials downstairs. She flipped through the stack to the end. The defendant's Situational Statement wasn't among them.

The next morning, Chengbei Hospital. The door to the Medical Affairs Office was open halfway.

She hadn't brought a document bag — just one page with three questions on it, generous line spacing, an empty signature block at the bottom.

Director Xu read it through once and pushed the paper back. "Mail it in. Go through official channels."

"I'm not mailing it." She pushed the paper back. "I ask three questions; you answer one, I write it down. If you won't sign, that's fine — I'll record the time all the same."

"Ask."

"The Reply in the court file — the handler column carries your surname. The register book in Ningchuan, the February 18 entry — the process server column also carries your surname." She said. "Both places are you. During that phone call, you said you never looked at that column."

"Didn't look is didn't look."

"Then look today." She slid the paper forward. "Who filled in this column?"

Director Xu didn't reach for it. He moved a pen on his desk half an inch, then moved it back. "The office filled it in. Whoever's name is there, it's the person who handled the matter."

"How many people handled this matter?"

"I'm not the only Xu in this office."

"I know." She said. "That's why I'm asking — why did they write your name?"

He looked up at her. Someone dragged a flatbed cart past in the hallway, the axle squealing. He pulled the half-open door inward a little, then stopped.

"I'll go back and verify."

"You said that last time." She said. "This time I'm giving you a date — March 5."

Director Xu neither agreed nor refused. She retrieved the paper and wrote on the back: the time, the two people present, those three words — "I'll verify" — and at the end added a line: Medical Affairs Office did not sign.

Someone coughed at the door. Huang Weizhong stood there, a draft under his arm, a polite smile on his face.

"Lawyer Shen makes rounds more diligently than a courier."

"The hospital submits more diligently than a courier too." She said.

Huang Weizhong let his smile tighten. "Materials go through proper procedure. What you want only exists if it's written down; if it isn't written, you can ask ten times and still have nothing."

"Then I'll keep asking until it gets written down."

He said nothing more and stepped aside to let her pass.

The hallway was long, ending at the Neonatal Department. Behind the glass wall, a row of incubators glowed. Peng Weidong stood in front of the rightmost one, holding a plastic bag in his hand. Inside was a tiny hat, its color washed pale.

"The doctor says he can come home this week." He didn't turn around. "The nurse says he's eating thirty milliliters per feeding on his own now."

"Clothes ready?"

"His mother bought one outfit." He lifted the bag. "It's in the locker. My sister-in-law says it's too small."

Behind the glass, a card hung by the incubator toward the inner side, three characters on it: Peng Nianman.

"Lawyer Shen." He spoke after a long moment. "The day we bring him home —"

"I can't say exactly which day." She lifted her briefcase. "Those three pages submitted today — one line will land on the court's paper. Once it does, I'll use it to ask questions."

Peng Weidong nodded and asked nothing more. He switched the plastic bag to his other hand and pulled a sheet of paper folded four times from his pocket — the Neonatal Department visitation registration card, the date in the last column stamped so faintly it was nearly illegible.

"Should I keep this?"

"Keep it." She said. "Every time you visit him, keep a card. Someday he'll know how he grew up."

It was dusk by the time she got back to Zhengping Firm. She ate a bowl of noodles downstairs, heavy on the scallion oil. She'd just sat down upstairs when her phone rang — the court's number.

The clerk on the other end read: This case is scheduled for evidence cross-examination regarding the scope of appraisal materials at 9:00 AM on March 5, in this court's Third Courtroom. The Ningchuan Qiushi Judicial Appraisal Office has been notified to send a representative to appear and explain the receipt of appraisal materials. Both parties' agents are to appear in person with original documents.

She added this line to the sixth row of the left-column page.

When she called He Xiufen, the noodle shop was being cleaned up. He Xiufen listened and said only two things: "Once he's up there, he'll have to read aloud from the set on his own desk. Bring two pens."

After hanging up, she was alone upstairs. She opened the hard-shell folder. Those three pages of the Legal Opinion Letter still sat in the right column, the corners soft from handling. She typed a line on her phone: Hearing March 5. Stared at it for two seconds. Deleted it.

Outside the window, the Old Town streetlamps came on one by one.

[Thud. March 5, 9:00 AM, Third Courtroom. This hearing allows one redemption: Gallery Seat, redeemable.]

[Thud. Listen to one person. One word.]

Pen in hand, she wrote "Gallery Seat" at the edge of the paper. "What's the cost?"

[Thud. You only listen for that single word. The cost will come collect itself.]