Read Novel Full Chapter 246: The Verdict Is In, Not Yet Effective
Chapter 246: The Verdict Is In, Not Yet Effective
The phone rang four times before she set down what she was holding.
The table was laid out with everything she needed for tomorrow: an evidence list, one civil case file volume, a photocopy of Tang Guo's ID, two pens. The police report notebook wasn't going to court; it stayed wedged beneath the second shelf of the metal cabinet.
Local number, one she didn't recognize. She flipped the phone face-down, started recording, then answered.
"Attorney Shen." A young male voice, relaxed, with the hum of air conditioning behind it. "Done for the day, I take it."
On the night of July 20th, the same man had called Tang Guo from a different number, said "you went through those files fast," said "my surname's Qin." She'd pulled that night's recording and compared them. The final syllable dropped in exactly the same place, pushed down twice in the identical spot.
"Let's swap terms," he said. "The money—President Qin's dropping that. Here's the new arrangement. Withdraw the lawsuit. She goes back to work, back to livestreaming, back to school. No one touches her."
"Put it in writing," she said.
"We don't type things up."
"Then this call never happened."
A laugh on the other end. "Attorney Shen, you've got one thing wrong. This isn't a negotiation. It's a notice."
"Notices get written down too. Date, who said it, what was said—send it to this number. If you won't, I'm logging this as one harassing call and walking it over to the police station tomorrow morning to add a page."
The line went dead. One minute forty-two seconds.
She saved the recording in two places, pulled a blank sheet from the drawer, and wrote Call Record across the top. Below it: August 25, 7:07 p.m., incoming call, eleven-digit number, name not given, claimed to represent "President Qin's" side; three statements, transcribed line by line; at the bottom, the disposition—no answer given, no promise made, no meeting arranged. She signed, dated it.
He Xiufen came up the stairs with a bowl of noodles, saw the paper on the table, and set the bowl on the windowsill to read it first.
"He changed the terms," Shen Zhixia said.
"Money's off the table, swapped for her life." He Xiufen read to the end, picked up the red pen from the holder, and drew a line straight through the line that read suspected to be a member of Qin Lang's camp. "You don't guess at a name. Change it to: 'Claimed to represent President Qin's side, did not give a name, did not give an organization.'"
"He gave his surname himself that night on July 20th."
"That night got its own sheet of paper." He Xiufen capped the red pen. "This phone call—you write only what this call contains."
Tang Guo was in the back room trying on tomorrow's outfit, a white blouse with ironed cuffs. She poked her head out, hair half pinned up.
"I'm not withdrawing," she said. "Third time I've said it."
"I know," He Xiufen said. "I've still got those three words of yours in the book."
Lu Jibai turned from the window and slid all three analogous cases into the front pocket of her folder. He opened her pen case, removed two that were nearly dry, replaced them with new ones, tips up.
"Tomorrow at ten, he won't show in person," he said. "He'll send someone to take notes."
"The note-taker still sits on the defendant's bench," Shen Zhixia said.
"Then let him take notes." He Xiufen set the bowl on the table. "Him coming to trade terms today means he's out of cards. Until the judgment comes down, nobody lets go."
[Thud. Tomorrow, 10 a.m., sentencing. Bring paper, not talk.]
* * *
At 9:40 a.m. on August 26, the crowd outside Courtroom No. 3 reached back to the stairwell landing.
Ma Jianjun had brought three riders. Helmets cradled in their hands, they stood at the outermost edge. When he saw Shen Zhixia, he gave a small nod and pulled the helmet a little tighter against his chest, as if afraid it might brush against someone's clothing.
Tang Guo wore the white blouse, hair tied back. The sticky note on her bag strap had been replaced with a fresh one—she'd re-inked the characters herself, the old one worn down until only "I" and "withdraw" remained.
At 9:58, the clerk called, "All rise."
The presiding judge took his seat, set down the case file, and looked first at the plaintiff's bench.
"The Court will now pronounce judgment."
When she rose, she heard her own knee crack.
The presiding judge read from the first page. He read slowly, smoothing each page corner flat before moving on. Fourteen pages, smoothed thirteen times.
Page three: the infringement facts. "The video at issue used the plaintiff's facial image and voice, splicing together statements made by other persons so that the plaintiff appeared to say, 'I took money for this case.' This was sufficient to create a negative impression of the plaintiff's professional ethics and social standing among viewers." He paused, then continued. "Defendant Jiangzhou Xingyao Culture Media Co., Ltd. organized its production and released it in batches through multiple accounts, expanding its dissemination through paid promotion."
Page four: the doxxing. "The creation of a table containing the plaintiff's name, address, and ID number and its sale to external parties constitutes unlawful processing of the plaintiff's personal information."
Page five: the witness. "Witness Guo Jianping appeared in court and testified that he was assigned by defendant Xingyao to perform outside filming work, and that five labor payments were all made through the corporate account of Jiangzhou Dingchang Culture Media Co., Ltd. The summary reference number on one June 23 payment matched the serial number on the back of the memory card. This testimony corroborates the bank inquiry results and the original settlement forms, and this Court accepts it."
From the back row of the gallery, someone murmured "good." A bailiff turned to look, and the sound died instantly.
Page six: that letter.
"Defendant Xingyao issued a letter on July 14, 2026, filed with this Court that same month, stating that the material at issue 'was purchased by our company from an individual named Wu Jianchuan in late May' and that it had 'been sealed in accordance with internal procedures.' This Court obtained bank inquiry results and found no payment records under the name Wu Jianchuan during the period from June 23, 2025, to June 23, 2026. The contents of this letter are inconsistent with the facts established in this case, and this Court does not accept them."
Lawyer Zhao's pen stopped at that sentence. He did not turn the page, did not look up.
The presiding judge slowed when he reached damages. "This Court determines the following amounts with consideration of the duration of the infringement, the scope of its dissemination, the degree of fault of the defendants, and the necessary expenses the plaintiff incurred in defending her rights."
He turned to page twelve: the operative part.
"1. Defendant Jiangzhou Xingyao Culture Media Co., Ltd. shall, within three days of this judgment taking effect, delete the video at issue and all reposts and mirrored links.
2. Defendant Jiangzhou Xingyao Culture Media Co., Ltd. shall, within ten days of this judgment taking effect, publish an apology statement in a prominent position on the homepage of its registered account for seven consecutive days, the content of which must be approved by this Court; Defendant Platform shall, during the same period, publish the main contents of this judgment in a prominent position on the relevant topic page for seven consecutive days.
3. Defendant Jiangzhou Xingyao Culture Media Co., Ltd. shall compensate the plaintiff 28,000 yuan for economic losses, 20,000 yuan for mental distress, and 7,400 yuan for reasonable expenses incurred in protecting her rights, totaling 55,400 yuan; Defendant Platform shall bear joint and several liability for 10,000 yuan of that amount. The above sums shall be paid in full within ten days of this judgment taking effect.
4. The plaintiff's remaining litigation claims are dismissed.
Case acceptance fee of 1,800 yuan: 100 yuan borne by the plaintiff, 1,700 yuan borne by the two defendants."
Tang Guo's hand reached over and pinched Shen Zhixia's wrist. Very hard. She didn't let go.
"Any party dissatisfied with this judgment may, within fifteen days of service of the judgment, file a notice of appeal with this Court, with copies corresponding to the number of opposing parties, to the Jiangzhou Intermediate People's Court."
The presiding judge closed the judgment and handed one copy to the clerk.
"Fourteen pages. Service on both parties in open court. Each party to verify and sign."
On the defendant's side, the Platform's agent signed first. Lawyer Zhao was slower—after writing his surname, his pen-tip hovered for two seconds before pressing down.
The presiding judge did not declare adjournment. Instead, he drew another sheet from beneath the case file, thinner than the judgment.
"This Court additionally makes a decision on one matter that arose during the proceedings."
The air that had just loosened in the courtroom tightened again.
"During the course of this litigation, Defendant Jiangzhou Xingyao Culture Media Co., Ltd. submitted written materials concerning the source of the material at issue that were inconsistent with the facts established in this case, and made corresponding statements during trial, obstructing the adjudication of this matter. In accordance with the Civil Procedure Law's provisions on compulsory measures against obstruction of civil proceedings, this Court orders that Defendant Jiangzhou Xingyao Culture Media Co., Ltd. be fined 100,000 yuan, payable within ten days of service of this decision. Any party dissatisfied with this decision may apply once for reconsideration; enforcement is not suspended during reconsideration."
Lawyer Zhao rose and pressed one hand flat on the table.
"Noted on behalf of the defendant," he said.
"Court is adjourned."
The gavel came down, the sound ricocheting off the walls.
No one in the gallery moved. The three riders beside Ma Jianjun stood up first; helmets knocked together, one dropped and rolled half a circle on the floor. He bent to pick it up, turned toward the plaintiff's bench, and grinned so wide his eyes disappeared.
He Xiufen, in the back row, folded the page she'd kept blank into thirds, tucked it into her coat pocket, and walked down.
* * *
The front steps of the courthouse were bleached white by the sun. Midday heat pressed straight down, shadows crushed flat underfoot.
Tang Guo stopped on the top step and wrapped her arms around Shen Zhixia. Her shoulders shook, once after another, without a sound. The sticky note on her bag strap crumpled between them.
"Can I talk now?" she said. Her voice was wrecked.
"Write the draft now." Shen Zhixia patted her back. "Show me when you're done."
"I'm going to write: the court found as fact." Tang Guo wiped at her face. "'The court found the video was spliced.' I'm not writing that they're bad people. I'm only writing that one sentence."
He Xiufen came up from behind, took Tang Guo's phone, and watched the first two lines appear on the screen. She tapped a fingernail against it.
"Delete the word 'victory,'" she said. "Write 'the court found as fact.' The case hasn't taken effect yet. You write 'victory,' he appeals, and you have to delete the post, apologize, and get clipped into another video yourself."
"So how long do I wait?"
"Fifteen days. If he doesn't appeal, the judgment takes effect, and you post. If he appeals, you wait for the second instance. The draft stays locked in a drawer until the day it's supposed to come out." He Xiufen handed the phone back. "Write it on paper, not in your heart. Words in your heart twist the moment you're rushed."
Guo Jianping walked up from the bottom of the steps. His old coat hung over his arm, his eyes red. He stopped two paces away, hands not knowing where to rest.
"Didn't waste those two lines I gave you, did I." he said.
"Pages four to five." Shen Zhixia said. "Two lines were yours. One was 'the work was assigned by Xingyao.' One was 'the money came from Dingchang.' The judgment has your name in it."
Guo Jianping swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "So can I go back to work tomorrow?"
"Whoever gave you the stop-work notice—go ask them," He Xiufen said. "They can stop a piece of paper. They can't stop a judgment."
"The card and the form—"
"Wait for it to take effect, then come do the paperwork and pick them up," Shen Zhixia said. "Until then, they're in the court's cabinet. Safer there than in your house."
After everyone had dispersed, she stood on the steps alone for a while.
[Thud. Verdict in. Not effective yet; not counted.]
[Thud. Deletion, apology, compensation—three items, none yet realized.]
[Thud. Day it takes effect, count half. Day it's realized, count full.]
She lowered her head and shifted the case file bag to her other hand.
Toward the back of the ledger, Tang Guo's two characters stood out fresh, only half the strokes formed—the last downward sweep of "Guo" stopped in midair, like someone had been writing it when the pen was called away.
* * *
At 6:40 that evening, following He Xiufen's protocol, she filed three items into the metal cabinet in two separate places: the original judgment, the proof of service duplicate, and the signed hearing record page. The court's case file envelope stood at the very back, cover facing outward.
The stairwell light still hadn't switched on when she came down. The smell of scallion oil drifted up from the noodle shop below, mixed with the faint char of scallion whites sizzling in a wok.
The lamp outside the shop was already lit. Lu Jibai stood beneath it, one hand in his pocket, the other holding two plastic bags, the mouth of one showing an umbrella and a thermos.
"Why haven't you left yet," she said, stopping on the last step.
"Waiting for someone to get off work." He held out the thermos. "Judgment filed?"
"Three items filed."
"Then close today's page." He tipped his chin toward the street corner.
"I still have to go home and do the math."
"Don't rush home to do the math tonight." He said. "Let me walk with you for a while."