Read Novel Full Chapter 319: Practice License
Chapter 319: Practice License
On the 29th, the office got an early start.
At five minutes to eight, the worker surnamed Yang was already standing outside the noodle shop, clutching a plastic bag in his arms—the work-hours logbook inside. Li Huilan went downstairs to bring him up. She checked his ID first, looked the number over twice, then had him write his name and the date on a handover form. The item went into her bag, the man sat down beside her, and she kept the pen herself.
"Leaving at eight-twenty," she called upstairs.
Shen Zhixia answered from the stairwell. At eight-twenty, the two of them went down, turned out of the alley, and caught the bus. Second tribunal at nine-thirty—old Kan's eleven months of owed wages.
At ten, Kang Wenying arrived at the office. She came empty-handed.
He Xiufen looked at her hands first, studied them for a moment, said nothing, and simply moved the noodle bowl away from the edge of the desk.
"The money's transferred," Kang Wenying said, pulling a folded receipt from the inner pocket of her padded coat. "Eighteen thousand, sent at nine-forty. He replied 'received.'"
The receipt lay unfolded on the long table. Shen Zhixia read it aloud: payee Kang Youxing, 18,000 yuan, 9:41. She recorded it by the time on the slip, not by what Kang Wenying said.
"The agreement's in the cabinet." He Xiufen tilted her chin toward the metal cabinet. Shen Zhixia found the key ring and opened the door.
Four pages spread out. Next to the second installment line there was an empty box. He Xiufen drew a diagonal slash in it with a red pen, wrote beside it "December 29, 18,000, received," then held the pen out: "Take a look. You signed this yourself. I won't check the box for you."
Kang Wenying looked for a long time. The line read: "Joint burial and grave relocation of parents, total cost 28,000 yuan, to be paid by Kang Wenying in two installments." Her finger first touched the "28,000," then slid over and pressed on "joint burial" before she nodded. He Xiufen turned the slash into a solid mark.
[Thud. Entry fully recorded. First installment, second installment—both arrived in the account.]
Shen Zhixia capped the pen, had to press twice before it clicked shut.
"I hung one of the paintings," Kang Wenying said suddenly.
"Which wall?"
"The north wall. The nail was driven by my father. I didn't dare replace it. The rod's still the same one—I just wiped the dust off."
"Which painting?"
"The one of the pond. There's a pond at the top of it, two willows at the edge, and a small figure crouched on the bank. I fell into that pond once as a child. My mother fished me out with a sieve." She spoke slowly. "Once the painting was up, the house finally felt lived in."
He Xiufen asked, "Has your brother seen it?"
"He came by once. Stood at the door, looked at the painting, didn't say a word, and left." She wiped both hands on her coat. "The agreement says the grave relocation starts with the spring thaw. He said he'll decide the date."
"Then let him decide," He Xiufen said. "You remember one thing: you put up the money, so let him do the talking. Don't get those two crossed."
Kang Wenying nodded, then asked about the court side. He Xiufen pulled out the page from December 23rd, from the file: "The confirmation matter—wait for the call. Both sides have to be present for questioning. The court will set the date. I'll go with you."
"You're not appearing in court anymore, and you'll still go with me?"
"Appearing in court is one thing. Going with you is another."
Kang Wenying stood, pressed her hand against her bag, then remembered she hadn't brought anything and looked slightly embarrassed. "I came empty-handed today."
"Empty-handed is good." He Xiufen slid the receipt back toward her. "Next time you bring something, it'll be me coming to your house."
Shen Zhixia walked her downstairs. At the turning of the stairs, Kang Wenying stopped. "Director He's voice is lower than last time."
"She hasn't been in court lately."
"Even without court, it's lower." The old woman pulled her scarf up and left.
Upstairs, He Xiufen squared the four pages of the agreement, tapped them twice against the table, slipped them into the file, and pressed her palm flat on the cover.
Shen Zhixia stood in the doorway.
"A whole career," He Xiufen said, "and this is the one where I walked it from their doorstep all the way to the money landing in the account—not a single step missed."
At four in the afternoon, Li Huilan came back. She set her bag on the long table and took out a receipt and a photocopied page from the work-hours logbook.
"The other side conceded eleven months. What they're fighting over is that last stretch with no clock-ins." She sat down and scraped her heel against the chair leg. "Mediation failed. Waiting on the ruling now. The original logbook went back to him today—he signed a receipt. I made him read it aloud before he put his thumbprint on it."
"Could he read it?" Shen Zhixia asked.
"Couldn't read it at all. I read it line by line, and he repeated after me."
He Xiufen pulled out a sheet of paper, clipped the receipt to it, and wrote in the corner: December 29, original returned to witness, one receipt. She slid it toward Shen Zhixia: "Add a line."
Shen Zhixia wrote: Handler, Li Huilan; Witness, Shen Zhixia.
On the 30th at eleven, the stove downstairs had just been turned down when the landline on the second floor rang.
Shen Zhixia answered it, using the two lines He Xiufen had taught her: "Zhengping Law Firm. Go ahead."
The caller was from the Lawyer Affairs Office of the Municipal Justice Bureau. She jotted the key points on a sheet of paper: the Provincial Department of Justice had approved it; the practice license could be picked up after 2 p.m.; bring the old certificate to exchange for the new one; the person-in-charge field would read Lu Jibai. The caller read the firm name and the responsible person's name aloud once each and asked if she'd verified them.
"Verified," she answered, then read them back off the paper.
Lu Jibai was at the desk by the door, binding a document. He set the stapler down when he heard her approaching.
"Approved." She handed him the sheet.
He read it through, laid it flat on the desk: "I'll go at two." A pause. "The old certificate has to be turned in?"
"She said turn it in."
"Does Director He know?"
"I'll tell her."
He Xiufen came up on her own. At eleven-thirty, two bowls of noodles came up—one set on the desk near the stairs, one in her hands. "What is it?" she asked.
Shen Zhixia told her. He Xiufen listened, then set the bowl she was holding on the edge of the desk: "Then turn it in. I'll take it down and have a look first."
"Coming with us?" Lu Jibai asked.
"No. The license belongs to the firm, not to me. You bring it back. I'll look at it upstairs."
The old certificate hung on the paneled wall by the window, in an old wooden frame with a chipped corner of lacquer. Lu Jibai stood on a chair, braced both hands under the bottom of the frame, and lifted it half an inch before it came free. There was dust on the glass, a fine crack in the lower-left corner, and a small dried-out insect lying at the bottom of the frame.
He Xiufen wiped the glass with her sleeve and carried it to the window.
Jiangzhou Zhengping Law Firm. Organizational form: sole proprietorship. Responsible person: He Xiufen.
"The glass has been cracked for years," she said. "I never replaced it."
Shen Zhixia carried it downstairs and made a copy on the office photocopier. On the printout, the shadow of the crack was there too, cutting diagonally through the blank space at the bottom. He Xiufen looked at that page for a long time, folded it in thirds, and tucked it into her cloth bag.
"I'll keep this one," she said.
At two, Lu Jibai headed out. The old certificate came out of its frame and went into a stiff paper bag; the empty frame stood in the corner.
At three-twenty he returned. The new certificate was in the paper bag, and in his other hand he carried a wooden frame—from the framing shop at the street corner. Forty-five yuan. He hadn't haggled, but he'd asked for a receipt.
"Forty-five?" He Xiufen asked.
"Forty-five."
"Ten yuan too much."
The new certificate with its frame was two fingers wider than the old one, and the original nail wouldn't hold it. He borrowed a hammer from downstairs, stood on the chair, and lifted the new frame up to gauge the position.
"How far left?" he asked.
He Xiufen watched from behind. "Move it an inch. Don't drift toward the window."
The hammer struck twice. The frame went up. He stepped back two paces, and Shen Zhixia did the same. The spot on the wall where the old frame had hung was slightly whiter than the rest—the pale outline now pressed beneath the new frame.
Name: Jiangzhou Zhengping Law Firm. Organizational form: general partnership. Responsible person: Lu Jibai.
He Xiufen raised a hand and pointed at the "responsible person" field behind the glass. Her fingertip pressed once against it, then withdrew. "This name is no longer mine."
"After the license change, how are the firm's debts calculated?" Shen Zhixia asked.
"Partners share by percentage; externally, joint and several liability," Lu Jibai said. "If money's owed, come find me first."
"Then I'll write it in the book."
"Write it."
Li Huilan came up from downstairs, still holding a bag of noodles. She saw the frame on the wall and stopped to look. "The sign downstairs still has seven characters."
"Not changing it," He Xiufen said. "A new one costs twelve hundred. The facts on paper haven't changed. Don't waste money."
[Thud. One license. Not entered into the Justice Checklist.]
Shen Zhixia took the old case intake register and the seal usage register out of the metal cabinet and laid them on the long table.
The last line on the last page of the intake register was from December 23: Kang Wenying, judicial confirmation, handler Shen Zhixia, responsible person He Xiufen. He Xiufen drew a horizontal line beneath it and wrote below the line: "All above signed by He Xiufen, ending December 29." She signed and dated it.
"The new one?" Shen Zhixia asked.
He Xiufen took one out of the cabinet—blue cloth cover, identical to the old one. "Bought from the same shop long ago. Had it ready."
She flipped the new register to the first page and pushed it toward Lu Jibai: "You write the first line."
He sat, the pen tip pausing over the grid, then wrote: December 30, firm matter: this firm has converted to a general partnership law firm; responsible person, Lu Jibai. The handler column he left blank. In the responsible-person column he signed his own name.
"This line isn't a case. It's the firm's foundation," He Xiufen said. "If anyone comes to inspect, they'll see it on the first page."
"Then when do I sign my line?" Shen Zhixia asked.
"Tomorrow, if there's a case, you sign in the handler column."
The last page of the seal usage register got a line drawn across it too. Beneath it she wrote: "All below signed by responsible person Lu Jibai."
Shen Zhixia found a kraft paper archive box in the cabinet, placed the old register inside, and wrote on the lid: Intake Register, one volume, ending December 29. He Xiufen signed, Lu Jibai signed, and they sealed it with tape in a cross. The three of them together set it on top of the metal cabinet, next to the camphorwood chest.
[Thud. The register's been changed. The previous volume—signed to the end.]
Shen Zhixia made two copies of the new license. One went into the firm-affairs file; the other went into the top shelf of the metal cabinet—the shelf holding a kraft paper envelope labeled: Shen Qian, Trial Notes, nine volumes, handover list. She placed the copy in front of the envelope, closed the cabinet door, and turned the key half a turn.
"Why put it there?" He Xiufen asked from behind her.
"Keeping it with his things."
He Xiufen didn't respond to that.
She dragged the chair out from behind the office desk—the old wooden chair with armrests polished bright and a nailhead sticking up from one corner that caught on trousers. She dragged it halfway across the room, set it straight beneath the window, stepped back to look, then shifted it half a foot east, sat to test it, stood again, and took a gray cloth cushion from the drawer to lay over the seat.
"From now on I sit here," she said. "You all have your meetings. I'll eat my noodles."
"There's a draft by the window," Shen Zhixia said.
"The draft's fine. I sat in this room for twenty-some years and never once sat by the window."
Li Huilan carried over the files for three cases, set half of them on the table, and stopped: "Then who do I hand these to?"
"Put them on the table. I'll look," He Xiufen said. "Don't hand them to me directly."
Shen Zhixia returned to the desk by the door and opened the notebook. The Qingshi Village page still had half a page blank, the last line reading "where exactly did the questioning break off." She spun the pen half a turn in her hand but didn't set it down.
In the chair beneath the window, He Xiufen held a bowl of noodles and sat for a long time. Downstairs, the roll-up shutter door rattled once, and the scent of scallion oil drifted up the stairwell, lingering until the sky went fully dark.