Read Novel Full Chapter 226: He Came on His Own
Chapter 226: He Came on His Own
July 14th, 8:00 a.m.
He Xiufen flipped the desk calendar over one square and wrote two lines at the bottom of the proposed acceptance letter: Jiangzhou Zhengping Law Firm, July 14th. When she finished, she took the round seal from the drawer, pressed it down over half a case file, and lifted it. The red mark came out crisp and square.
"I've signed it." She folded the paper into a kraft envelope and tucked it under the desk calendar. "Sending this letter out is one step."
"There's another step."
"Xingyao." He Xiufen picked up her tea mug. "Today's the 14th. Three-day deadline. He's supposed to hand over the source."
At 10:20, the computer chimed.
An email from Xingyao's lawyer. One page, two clauses. Shen Zhixia read it aloud.
"One: Upon our company's verification, the video material used in the audiovisual content at issue was purchased by our company from an individual, Wu Jianchuan, in late May. One-time delivery, online. Our company has paid the corresponding amount, and due diligence regarding the source and rights status of said material has been reasonably performed. Our company has had no further dealings with this individual since.
Two: Our company has sealed the storage media related to the material at issue in accordance with internal procedures. If retrieval is required, please have the relevant formalities served on our company through the court in accordance with law.
Should you wish to negotiate, our company can arrange a meeting."
"Note the time," He Xiufen said. "10:20. Note the page count. One page."
"He gave us a name."
"Wu Jianchuan." He Xiufen printed the email. "What do you plan to do with that name?"
"Run it."
"Run it. When you're done, tell me who Wu Jianchuan is."
"And if I can't find him?"
"Then that's an answer too." He Xiufen turned the paper over and pulled the street office's copy of the Explanatory Statement from the file, laying the two pages side by side. "Forget the man for now. Read these two lines."
"The original footage shot that day was collected and stored by the organizing unit after the event concluded." Shen Zhixia finished reading and moved her finger to the other page. "Said material was purchased by our company from an individual, Wu Jianchuan."
"Same batch of material." He Xiufen tapped her pen between the two lines. "One sentence says he hired someone to shoot it, then took the card back for safekeeping. The other says he paid money and bought it from an outsider."
"One of the two sentences is false."
"One of them is false. He won't say which." He Xiufen set her pen down. "Put this page in front of the judge, and the judge asks him one question: was it collected, or was it purchased? Whichever one he answers, the other stops standing up for him."
"What about clause two?"
"He put the word 'sealed' in writing." He Xiufen pressed her finger on those two characters. "The material is in his hands. He's telling us to go get it through the court. Then we don't need his consent—submit this page before trial and let the judge retrieve it from him."
Shen Zhixia started a new page and wrote two lines. On the left she copied clause three and the signature block from the street office's statement. On the right she copied clause one from Xingyao's letter. On the last line she wrote: Both of the above accounts are subject to the original footage and handover records retrieved by this court.
"Should I write the word 'contradiction'?"
"No." He Xiufen set her tea mug on the new page. "'Contradiction' is commentary. Write the page clean and let the reader figure it out himself—what he figures out weighs more than what you write down."
[Thud. A name that belongs to no one—but he wrote it down himself.]
At the end of the email there was the line about negotiating and meeting. He Xiufen had her reply with three lines: Letter received. The stated source of the material, the handling personnel, and the sealing status shall all be subject to the investigation and evidence collection in this case and to the results of court retrieval. Signed, He Xiufen.
"Reply with that one sentence," she said. "Don't give him a second one."
By midday, the smell of scallion oil from the noodle shop downstairs climbed up the stairwell. Shen Zhixia started to go down for a bowl of noodles, but He Xiufen pressed her tea mug lid onto the page she'd just written: "Finish this page first. Noodles can be reheated."
* * *
2:40 p.m. The landline rang. The court.
"Your joinder application—the judge approved it. The materials were served on Defendant Three today."
"Did they sign for it?"
"They did." Papers rustled on the other end. "9:05 this morning. The return receipt's stamped. If you want a copy, come to the window and print one."
"What about the evidence submission deadline?"
"Fifteen days, through July 29th. The hearing date will be set separately, notice to follow."
3:20, at the window of the court's Litigation Service Center. She took a number, waited two rounds, and printed two pages.
The first was the Proof of Service. The column listing the documents served ran down line by line: copy of complaint, copy of application to add defendant, notice of response, notice of evidence submission. The recipient's signature column held three handwritten characters, with "received on behalf of" written in parentheses beside them, stamped with a square receipt seal. The date column read: July 14th, 9:05 a.m.
Back at the firm, He Xiufen read the page from top to bottom.
"The two characters missing from the authentication page—the court filled those in for them," Shen Zhixia said.
"The two characters missing from the authentication page gave him room to talk." He Xiufen laid the return receipt over the other two pages. "This page lists everything item by item, and at the bottom there's a stamp and a date. From today on, if he wants to swap in a different name, he has to ask the judge first."
She pushed the desk calendar half an inch toward Shen Zhixia.
"He signed at 9:05. His letter to us came at 10:20." She said. "That hour in between—he was deciding what name to give us."
[Thud. The name is in the file now. Switching identities means getting past the judge first.]
* * *
4:50 p.m. The landline rang again. This time she recognized the voice.
"It's me, Guo Jianping." Traffic noise in the background. "About the card—can I come up and talk?"
"What time will you get here?"
"I'm on my way now."
5:10. Footsteps on the stairs. He came up heavy, one step at a time, no pauses.
Early fifties, short sleeves, an old black camera bag slung across his shoulder, the strap worn pale. He set a sheet of notepaper on the desk first, then a plastic bag holding a palm-sized plastic case.
"That thing you asked me to write last time."
Ballpoint pen on paper, the characters packed tight, like a running log.
July 11th, 4:12 p.m. A man called, said he was from Xingyao. Said the company was doing a material audit and asked whether I still had the card from May 20th, whether I'd made any backups. I said I'd go home and check.
July 14th, 9:26 a.m. A man asked whether I'd given the card to anyone, whether any lawyers had seen it. I said the card's with me. Anything else, ask the lawyer.
He Xiufen finished reading and looked up.
"You answered that second one yourself."
"You told me over the phone last time."
"Those three lines I taught you the day before yesterday—this morning you used them on your own." He Xiufen smoothed the paper flat. "You answered right."
"What's on the card?"
"May 20th, from setting up the tables to packing up. Two segments. The first part's people coming and going, the middle's the event."
"Any copies made? Given it to anyone?"
"No copies. The card's been in the side pocket of my bag since that day. I only dug it out when he called a couple days ago."
"Who else knows the card's in your hands?"
"They do."
He Xiufen picked up the court's return receipt and held it under his eyes.
"Look at this line. 9:05 this morning. That's when they signed." She said. "They signed today. And this morning they were still calling you."
Guo Jianping pulled the page half an inch toward himself and studied it.
"That girl who was setting up the table under the canopy on the west side of the square," He Xiufen asked, "is she on your card?"
"She is. She was handing out flyers. I got two shots of her."
"The card has her hands, her sleeves." He Xiufen set the receipt back down. "With that alone, no one can press this any further."
"I take their work every year—close to half of it." He said it himself, before she could. "Once this card hits your desk, that half's gone."
"Have you thought it through?"
"I have." He wiped both hands on his pants. "I've been shooting for over ten years. Whenever anyone asked for footage, I handed it over. First time somebody said to me on the phone: don't give it away."
He Xiufen looked at him for a long moment.
"Then hand it over." She said. "That card only counts as delivered once it's written down on a page. Zhixia, write."
She dictated, and Shen Zhixia wrote: One: one memory card, containing two segments of footage shot on May 20th. Two: one page of handwritten notes. Time of delivery: July 14th, 5:40 p.m. Deliverer: Guo Jianping. Receiver: Jiangzhou Zhengping Law Firm.
Two copies. When he signed, he gripped the pen like a screwdriver. His name came out huge, filling the entire line.
He Xiufen took out a kraft paper bag, put the card case and the handwritten page in together, folded the top over twice, had him sign across the fold, then tore off a strip of clear tape and pressed it over the signature.
"The bag stays sealed," she said. "Tomorrow it gets opened in front of a notary."
She picked up her phone and dialed.
"Teacher Hu, Chengnan Notary Office. He Xiufen from Zhengping. Tomorrow morning, 8:30, a witness is bringing in a piece of physical evidence for extraction and sealing. We'll bring the materials."
She wrote the time on the desk calendar, placed the paper bag in the top compartment of the metal cabinet, shut the door, and turned the key half a rotation in the lock.
[Thud. Four days that card sat under pressure. Today it walked up the stairs on its own.]
* * *
6:20. The phone on the desk buzzed. The screen showed that string of numbers with no saved contact.
"Don't only shoot the front. The serial number on the back—get it clear."
She read it twice and looked up.
"Lawyer Lu."
"Master Guo's card." He Xiufen took the phone and read the message twice herself.
"The day before yesterday, when he reached the stairwell, he said it once already," Shen Zhixia said.
"The day before yesterday, the card was still in Master Guo's pocket. That line was for Master Guo." He Xiufen set the phone back on the desk.
"Today it's for us."
"Today everyone who needed to be at the table is at the table." He Xiufen stood and opened the metal cabinet, took out the kraft paper bag, placed it dead center on the desk, on top of Xingyao's letter and the court's return receipt. "He's said it twice now. Remember it. Tomorrow at 8:30, first thing: do exactly what he said."
"What is the serial number on the back?"
"I don't know." He Xiufen capped her tea mug. "He's not saying either."
Shen Zhixia wrote today's three lines in the ledger, then flipped to tomorrow's slot.
* * *
7:20, home. The bulb in the entryway was still in its plastic bag. She stood on the stool, screwed it in, pressed the switch. The stairwell light came on—the dark stretch between the third and fourth floors was gone.
Zhi'an came out of his room, looked up at it, said nothing, went back in and shut the door.
Tang Guo was typing away under the fill light. She looked up when she finished.
"The signature column on the 18th."
"There's a name now," she said. "It just hasn't been written down yet."
"When will it be?"
"I'll tell you when it is."
She spread the ledger under the light and wrote in tomorrow's slot: 8:30, Chengnan Notary Office. First item: flip it over.
When she finished, she remembered something—from the moment that card entered the room to when it went into the bag, it had been face up the whole time. She'd never seen what was on the back.