Read Novel Full Chapter 241: Only Two Answers
Chapter 241: Only Two Answers
Two kraft-paper folders sat at opposite ends of the long table, one facing in, one facing out.
The "Court" folder lay open by Shen Zhixia's hand, six photocopied pages stacked by number: five evidence pages, one list page. She started from page one, flipped to page three, where a pencil line ran beneath the serial number on the back of the card. She paused, then kept going.
"The card came back from the notary office this afternoon. Seal's intact, it's in the lockbox. I'll take it out tomorrow morning, you carry it." He Xiufen sat in the old chair by the window, red pen in hand. "When you're carrying it, keep your mouth shut. Get through security first, don't talk to anyone at the door."
"Got it."
"And this one." He Xiufen pulled a page from the folder. "The Witness Testimony Application filed August fifth. Receipt's here. Tomorrow, if anyone asks you 'when did you bring in the witness,' hand this over."
Shen Zhixia tucked the receipt behind the evidence pages. At the other end of the long table, Guo Jianping sat with a glass of plain water in front of him, untouched, both hands flat on his knees.
"Lao Guo, stand up," He Xiufen said.
He stood, the chair scraping half a foot back against his knees, and hurried to steady it.
"That day at Wenchang Road Subdistrict—who sent you on that job?"
"It was... the field videographer Xingyao sent."
"Which company paid you?"
"Dingchang. Jiangzhou Dingchang Culture Media. Paid through their corporate account."
"Say that second one slower." He Xiufen said. "Once those two answers are out, there won't be much left they can ask you."
Shen Zhixia dragged her chair over and sat down across from him. She and He Xiufen had agreed on this last night: she'd play the opposing lawyer, as hostile as possible.
"Mr. Guo, why did you keep this card?"
"I worked. The card was mine. After the job, I kept it."
"Why is the handler column on the settlement statement blank?"
"It came blank. I didn't touch it."
"How do you know Dingchang and Xingyao are the same company?"
Guo Jianping's mouth moved, his Adam's apple bobbing once.
"I can't say."
"That." Shen Zhixia leaned back. "Remember that answer."
"In court, what they want most is for you to guess." He Xiufen set the red pen down. "You guess once, and the first two answers are wasted."
By the third run-through, his hand didn't shake when he lifted the cup. He took a sip, the rim clinking against his teeth, and let out a short laugh at himself. Tang Guo had been writing by the windowsill the whole time; now she looked up.
"What do I say tomorrow?"
"Say it exactly like the page you wrote." He Xiufen said. "No withdrawal, no statement, no settlement—not one word more."
Footsteps came up the stairs. Lu Jibai walked in with a document envelope, pulled out a single sheet and set it on the table: a duplicate of the power of attorney, the handler column listing one name per line.
"Submitted at the end of July," he said. "Just got the duplicate back."
Shen Zhixia looked at those two names for a while, then folded the paper and pressed it into the "Court" folder.
"Coffee?"
"Bought it downstairs, no sugar." He set the cup on the corner of the table and pointed at the fund-flow chart in the folder. "Tomorrow they won't argue about whether the video's real. They'll deny the footage is theirs first, then go after the witness."
"Guo Jianping?"
"They won't get anything else out of him," he said. "If they could, they'd have done it already."
"If they make a move, it's on 'interested party status.'" Shen Zhixia ran her fingers over the receipt again. "Lao Guo isn't their employee, and the money didn't come from them."
"That's why there's not a single 'I guess' in those two answers." He Xiufen said. "Who sent you on the job, which company paid—both are written on the two pages in his hands. What he's saying is what's on paper."
"Done practicing?" He Xiufen asked.
"Done." Shen Zhixia picked up half a page of notes. "Presiding Judge, the plaintiff requests to read into the record the defendant company's letter of July fourteenth."
"Don't add 'malicious,' don't add 'blatant.'" He Xiufen said. "Just read it. Let those two pages speak for themselves."
[Thud. Saying two sentences clearly in court beats saying ten sentences in full.]
At 9:35, Guo Jianping's call came in, his voice kept low: "Lawyer Shen, the car's parked downstairs again."
She and Lu Jibai took a cab over. Neither of them spoke on the way. One streetlamp in the old neighborhood had burned out, and the sound-activated light at the stairwell flickered on and off. The car sat against the wall in the third spot, engine still running, a small patch of water pooling under the exhaust pipe. Someone sat in the passenger seat, head down, looking at a phone, the screen's glow shifting across their chin.
She stood behind a utility pole and photographed the plates first—the last three digits were 731. Then the whole car, with the building number sign in frame. Finally a glance at the screen showing the time: 9:58.
Guo Jianping came out of the stairwell, an old jacket tucked under his arm, a folded sheet of paper in his hand.
"Three times, all written down here."
Three lines on the paper, each recording the date, the time, where the car parked, and when it left. The first line was the night of July thirty-first—the night of the blurry photo. The second, August ninth. The third, tonight, 9:20 until now.
"After the knocking incident, they came again on August ninth, and once on the morning of August tenth." he said. "I said 'I don't know anything' through the door. Didn't say anything else. Everything they asked, I wrote down. Never opened the door."
"The work-stop notice?"
He fished a sheet from his pocket, printed, just one line: External field filming suspended starting this month. No signature, no seal. It had been slipped through the door crack this afternoon.
"Let's go check the box."
The three of them went upstairs. The staircase was narrow, the railing concrete. He dragged the metal box out from under the bed and opened it—empty, an old newspaper lining the bottom.
"I moved the papers somewhere else. Didn't even tell you two." he said.
"Good." Shen Zhixia crouched, closed the lid, and slid the box back under the bed. "If they come asking again, tell them the box is here and there's nothing in it."
On the way down, he stopped at the stairwell entrance.
"I told my daughter. Tomorrow, I'm going to the courthouse to say two sentences."
"What did she ask?"
"She asked if I'd be on TV." He laughed, a short one. "I said it won't be broadcast."
At 10:20, the car started and slowly rolled past the stairwell entrance. The windows were closed; no face was visible behind the glass. The taillights glowed red all the way down the street, then vanished around the first corner.
Lu Jibai held his phone up and recorded for twenty seconds.
"Not going after it?" she asked.
"No." He pocketed the phone. "If we follow, tomorrow they'll say we hit them first."
Under the dead streetlamp, Guo Jianping stood, the paper in his hand already creased white from folding.
"Should I really go tomorrow?"
"Go." Shen Zhixia said. "Just say those two sentences."
[Thud. The person in the car never got out, but it still counts as a visit.]
In the cab on the way back, she typed out message after message: the time, the last three digits of the plate, the moment the car pulled away.
He Xiufen replied with seven characters: Seven tomorrow morning, meet at the firm.
* * *
August twelfth, seven in the morning. The light in the police station's duty room was white with a cold edge.
Before leaving, He Xiufen took the kraft-paper envelope from the metal cabinet. The perforation seal over the flap was intact. She handed the envelope to Shen Zhixia to carry.
The officer on duty was in his thirties, sleeves rolled to his forearms. He took the stack Shen Zhixia pulled from the folder and spread the pages across the desk one by one: a Witness Harassment Statement, with a stack of attachments underneath—the work suspension notice, the letter with no postmark and no sender, a photocopy of the lawyer's letter bearing the firm's seal, photos of the three parking incidents, records of the three door-knockings, and the three lines Guo Jianping had written himself.
He read from top to bottom, then looked up.
"These are all verbatim?"
"Copied exactly as spoken." Shen Zhixia said. "Who said it, when they said it—all written underneath."
The officer turned to Guo Jianping. "What's your relationship with the plaintiff?"
Guo Jianping glanced at Shen Zhixia, then took both hands out of his pockets.
"I work. They pay."
"Anyone ever been inside your home? Anything missing?"
"No."
"Who do you think it is?"
Guo Jianping's mouth stayed shut for two seconds.
"I can't say."
The officer's pen paused, then kept writing. He took Guo Jianping's phone number, recording every detail in the register.
"I'll give the patrol units in this area a heads-up," he said. "If they spot it, they'll log the plate number."
He filled out the receipt, assigned it a number, stamped it, and pushed it to the edge of the desk.
"I'll register this for now. For the hearing tomorrow, you keep the original. If a car parks downstairs again, don't go check it yourself. Call 110 directly."
Shen Zhixia tucked the receipt into the folder. On the way out, she glanced at Guo Jianping. He'd put his hands back in his pockets, and his shoulders had loosened a little.
* * *
8:35, in front of the courthouse. A thin layer of sun lay on the stone steps. A line had already formed at security: people with briefcases, people supporting elderly relatives, people clutching documents to their chests. The national emblem hung above the door, bright and quiet.
Shen Zhixia paused at the bottom of the steps for two seconds and switched the envelope to her right hand. She'd been through this door many times. Today, the first name on the power of attorney was hers.
He Xiufen stood below the steps, Tang Guo beside her, a pale yellow sticky note attached to her bag strap.
"Read slowly when you do." He Xiufen pulled the folder closer to her chest. "The judge has to write everything down stroke by stroke. Once it's on paper, there's no taking it back."
"Lawyer Shen."
She knew the voice. All those earlier phone calls had come from him—Jiahong Firm, surname Zhao. Dark suit, neat hair, a thin briefcase in his hand.
"Two pages." He pulled them from his bag and held them out. "Giving you a copy first, so you know what's coming."
She didn't take them right away. She looked first. Page one was a Supplementary Statement. Page two's title was lengthier: Objection to the Plaintiff's Witnesses' Qualification to Testify. The signature line read: Jiangzhou Xingyao Culture Media Co., Ltd., Attorney-at-Law Zhao, with a round seal stamped to the left of the name.
The first paragraph of page one stated: The footage in question originates from an individual, Wu Jianchuan. Our company has sealed all related materials.
Page two stated: The plaintiff's witness, Guo Jianping, is not an employee of our company. The settlement statement and storage media in his possession are of unknown origin. We respectfully request that the court examine whether he has a sufficient interest in this case to qualify as a witness.
[Thud. Those two pages in his hand—they need their own folder too.]
She took the two pages.
"Filed it yet?"
"I'll file it in court."
"Then file it in court," she said. "Handing it to me doesn't count as filing."
Lawyer Zhao smiled, then glanced at Lu Jibai. "Two names on the power of attorney. Who speaks in court?"
"She does." Lu Jibai said.
"First time handling a case independently, then."
"It is." Shen Zhixia handed the two pages to He Xiufen.
He Xiufen folded them once and pressed them on top of the "Court" folder.
"If he wants to examine the witness, he'll have to get through these two pages first," she said.
"What he wants to examine is the witness." Tang Guo added quietly from behind.
"Then let him." Lu Jibai switched his briefcase to his left hand. "Those two answers—by the third run-through last night, the shaking was gone."
Shen Zhixia picked up the kraft-paper envelope with its intact perforation seal and climbed the steps first.