Justice System: I Litigate for the Whole City

Chapter 192 : Identical to the Original

At 9 a.m. on May 17, with the scallion oil smell from the noodle shop downstairs still hanging in the air, two people came upstairs.

The woman in front was in her forties, short hair, beige coat, a black hard-shell folder tucked under her arm. The younger one behind her carried a notebook, looked for an outlet the moment she walked in, didnʼt find one, and just stood there.

He Xiufen moved one of the two tables in the outer room aside to make space.

”Discipline Department of the Bar Association. Guan Min.” The woman flipped open her work ID and set it on the corner of the table, not rushing anyone to look. ”The Discipline Department received some materials. Weʼre here to check a few things at your firm first. If Director He is in, thatʼs ideal.”

”Iʼm here.” He Xiufen sat down. ”Check away.”

Guan Min opened her folder and pulled out a slip of paper sheʼd written herself. ”Peng Weidong, Peng Nianman v. Chengbei Hospital. This case.” She looked at Shen Zhixia. ”Who wrote the case intake register entry.”

Shen Zhixia took the intake register from the cabinet, flipped to the page, and turned it around.

”Handler column: He Xiufen.” Guan Min read aloud. ”Intake registrar column: Shen Zhixia.” She looked up briefly. ”Engagement agreement.”

”In that drawer.”

Guan Min turned the pages one by one. The principal was Peng Weidong, the signature his own; the handling lawyer column read He Xiufen; one Power of Attorney, special authorization; the firm letter stub tucked at the back. She finished and pushed the folder back.

”Intake at this firm requires the directorʼs signature.” He Xiufen picked it up from there. ”Iʼll answer that one: the firm took the case, the firm assigned the lawyer.”

Guan Min wrote a line in her notebook.

”The April 26 hearing.” she said. ”Who was sitting at the agentʼs seat.”

”Me.”

”Where was Director He.”

”At the plaintiffʼs bench, to my left.” Shen Zhixia said. ”The firm letter was issued by her. Her appearance certificate was in her bag.”

”How did you state your identity in court.”

”Trainee lawyer Shen Zhixia of Jiangzhou Zhengping Law Firm, supervising lawyer He Xiufen. I said it that way from the first hearing on.”

”The transcript.”

Shen Zhixia opened the photocopied transcript to the first page. In the authorized agent column, one line: Shen Zhixia (Jiangzhou Zhengping Law Firm).

Guan Min looked at that line for a few seconds.

”The name Shen Zhixia appears three times in the transcript.” she said. ”Not once do those two characters follow it.”

”The transcript was written by the court clerk.” He Xiufen said.

”Iʼm not asking who wrote it.” Guan Min pushed the paper back. ”Iʼm asking whether whatʼs written is true.”

”Itʼs not.” Shen Zhixia said. ”I stated in open court that I was a trainee lawyer.”

”Spoken, but not on paper.” Guan Min picked up her cup and took one sip, not a second. ”What did the client call you.”

”Peng Weidong called me ʼLawyer Shen.ʼ”

”Did you correct him.”

”Yes. He still called me that the second time.”

”Itʼs not in the record.”

Downstairs, the wok spat and clattered, the sound coming up through the floor. None of the three cups moved again. The young woman finished a line, tapped her pen twice on the paper, looked up at the ceiling, then looked back down.

”Between March and April, did you submit materials to an administrative agency in your own name.” Guan Min asked.

”Once, to the drug regulator. Not in my own name. I submitted as agent, with the firmʼs letter and the Power of Attorney attached.”

”Whose name was on the letter as supervising lawyer.”

”He Xiufenʼs.”

”That one doesnʼt get written down.” Guan Min moved her pen aside. ”May 16, the trip to the Health Commission. What was delivered, and who signed for it.”

”Four documents, all ready-made. I didnʼt add a single word. She signed for the notice in person.”

”Where were you.”

”I went up to the third floor with her and stood at the back of the inner room. She took the receipt slip herself.”

”The proof of service.”

”She signed it herself.” Shen Zhixia said. ”My Power of Attorney authorized me to present arguments. The signature line—I donʼt sign for others.”

Guan Min wrote a line, and when she finished she looked up at her. The look wasnʼt long, but the pen tip paused for half a second.

”That oneʼs not in there either.” she said.

She folded the slip and clipped it back into the folder. ”A few things Iʼll say plainly: this visit isnʼt about whoʼs right or wrong. Itʼs about procedure. Engagement agreement, Power of Attorney, firm letter stub, case intake register, hearing transcript—photocopies of all five, delivered to the Discipline Department within three days. If you have something to say, write it down and send it along.”

”Write what.”

”Write the facts.” She stood and tucked her work ID back into her pocket. ”One sentence at a time. Nothing else.”

The young woman went downstairs first. Guan Min reached the stairwell, put her hand on the doorframe, and turned back with a final question.

”That certificate of yours—when does it come through.”

”Depends on the assessment.”

”Assessments happen twice a year.” she said. ”With the months youʼre counting now, youʼll make the next one.”

The door swung shut, and the hard-shell folder clacked against the railing.

[Thud. Last time, they came to look at papers. This time, theyʼre asking about the certificate.]

He Xiufen drained her glass in one go.

”Once they ask about the certificate, itʼs no longer about the case.” she said.

”Materials went in yesterday, and theyʼre at our door this morning.” Shen Zhixia slid the transcript photocopy back into the folder. ”They donʼt usually move this fast.”

”The person who submitted the papers pushed the process.” He Xiufen said. ”Someone who wants an answer asks and leaves. Someone who wants a process—the questions are only the beginning.”

She closed the intake register and pressed down the corners.

”This afternoon Iʼll go to the archives and pull the letter stub. Donʼt stay up.”

* * *

The noodle shop closed at ten. The light upstairs stayed on.

Shen Zhixia sorted the five sets of photocopies one by one and pressed them into the hard-shell folder. At the very bottom of the drawer lay a roll of old paper, the kraft edges frayed—photocopies from the case nine years ago. One page was missing from the middle, and tucked into the seam was a scrap sheʼd written herself, a single character: ”missing.”

She pulled a newspaper out of the roll. The Jiangzhou Evening News from nine years ago, local section. Someone had used a red pen to box one column, and what was boxed was ”Qingyuan Testing.” Lu Jibai had given her this newspaper, and sheʼd kept it in this roll ever since.

There was one more page—one sheʼd copied herself. Last month sheʼd gone through that appraisal material countless times, and in the end sheʼd copied down only one line, the name of the only folder on the hard drive:

Second Water Sample.

[Thud. At the end of the Unsettled Ledger, one more line: Two water samples—one real, one forged.]

She read the line twice, her finger stopping on the words ”two samples.”

Three sheets lay on the tabletop, edges aligned: the old newspaper with ”Qingyuan Testing” circled in red, a worn file missing a page, and a single line copied by hand.

Two water samples. The one sent for testing, the one in the report—her fatherʼs signature landed on one of them. What about the other?

She remembered the photocopy of that test report nine years ago, spread on the corner of the dining table, two grease spots spattered from a stir-fry. Her father pressed his index finger on the signature line and said, ”The signatureʼs mine. The report isnʼt.” Then he said nothing more. To this day she didnʼt understand why he chose to admit it.

She traced over the line ”Second Water Sample,” the pen tip pressing a dot into the corner of the paper. She didnʼt write anything further.

Outside the window, the roll-up shutters along the alley came down one by one.

Her phone lit up on the desk corner.

Lu Jibai: A rebuttal is just putting paper into the file. Write the facts, not the grievances.

She looked at it for two seconds, then replied: Understood.

No further message came.

* * *

On the morning of May 18, someone shouted from downstairs: ”Zhengping Law Firm—registered mail—”

She went down to collect it. The mail carrier handed over the delivery list and pointed at a blank line. She wrote her name in the ”recipient” column and handed the list back.

The envelope was kraft paper. The sender column was printed: Municipal Bar Association.

Inside were three items: a Notice of Acceptance, a two-page copy of a Complaint Letter, and three pages of attachments.

She opened it sitting on the little wooden stool downstairs. He Xiufen poked her head out from the kitchen, apron still on, and came over to read beside her.

”Read it.”

The Notice of Acceptance stated the acceptance date, the respondent, and the subject matter, ending with one line: Please submit a written statement of defense within fifteen days of receiving this notice.

She turned the page.

The complainant column gave a name, a firm name, and a phone number. She dialed it. An automated voice said the number was no longer in service.

”Tongsheng Law Firm.” He Xiufen stared at the line. ”Old firm. They did labor cases back in the day. Eventually dissolved.”

”Have you heard this name before?”

”No.” He Xiufen said. ”I know at least five hundred licensed lawyers in Jiangzhou, maybe eight hundred. Iʼve never heard this name.”

The complaint made three allegations. First: after registering as a trainee, the respondent repeatedly appeared alone as counsel at hearings, and at those hearings the supervising lawyer did not participate as an agent. Second: the respondent handled cases publicly under the title of lawyer, citing the three instances in the agent column of the hearing transcript. Third: the respondent failed to follow firm procedures for case intake and privately collected fees from the client.

Beneath the three, trailing at the bottom, was one more unnumbered paragraph: During the period of representation, the respondent induced the witness Lin Qi in this case to sign an application to testify in court, to personally write out testimony, and arranged for her to appear as a witness.

Shen Zhixia copied the three allegations into her notebook, one line each. When she reached the third, she paused.

”That oneʼs empty.” she said. ”Fees were collected by the firm. The receipt is in the file.”

”The empty ones are the ones you have to answer.” He Xiufen said. ”They lay out three, so you answer each one.”

”The paragraph at the bottom has no number.”

”No number means they donʼt want an answer—they want people to remember it.” He Xiufen said. ”Those seven words are in her own handwriting. You never touched them. Put exactly that one sentence in the rebuttal.”

Three pages of attachments: the first page of the hearing transcript, the first page of the engagement agreement, and a page of the Power of Attorney. Each page bore the same square seal in the lower right corner, red ink, ”Identical to the Original”; beneath the seal, a line of small print naming the institution.

She recognized these three pages. These were the ones sheʼd submitted to the court, which the court had then passed to the defendant. The originals were in the firmʼs file envelope. The copy in the defendantʼs hands was one the defendant had photocopied themselves.

”At the end of last month, Director Xu said something to me in the hallway.” she said. ”Someone went to the Medical Affairs Office and photocopied the paperwork for my representation in this case. What they asked about wasnʼt the case. It was when my certificate was coming through.”

”That lines up.” He Xiufen held the Complaint under the light and looked at the signature. ”May 16.”

”Day before yesterday.”

”Day before yesterday you gave their name back.” He Xiufen set the paper down. ”He picked that day.”

”The firm Chengbei Hospital hired was Hengzheng.” Shen Zhixia said.

”The lawsuit was lost, the contract flew away.” He Xiufen said. ”And in the end, someone took three pages from the Medical Affairs Office. That last step is my guess. You verify it.”

Shen Zhixia didnʼt answer. She remembered last winter, when someone had come to this room with a fee offer of thirty-six thousand per case, sat at this same table, and left with one sentence: ”Some old accounts burn your hand if you open them too early.”

[Thud. Of the three allegations, two are made of paper. One is real.]

She turned the three pages of attachments face down and pressed them to the very bottom of the hard-shell folder.

”Tomorrow morning Iʼll go to the Discipline Department.” she said. ”Five sets of photocopies, one rebuttal.”

”One sentence per allegation. Leave the signature blank for now—I want to look it over.” He Xiufen untied her apron and draped it over the chair back. ”List every hearing youʼve appeared in—date, courtroom, whether I was there—one line each.”

”The appeal period runs to the end of the month.” Shen Zhixia said.

”The rebuttalʼs due early June.” He Xiufen stacked the bowls. ”Two things, right next to each other.”

”Write the facts.”

”Write the facts.”