Reservoir Dogs chapter 60

 Injustice

Jiang Chengyuan said, “Her name is Lu Xi, her father was Lu Xiyuan, once a renowned lawyer who later went to prison for perjury and committed suicide there. When she learned of her father’s death, she lost her mind. My mother sympathized with her plight and felt our family owed her something, so she took it upon herself to care for her, adopting her as her foster daughter and keeping her by our side.”

No wonder Jiang Chengyuan didn’t want to talk about these things. It was indeed a troubled past, and not a proud one.

But despite once sharing an intimate relationship with her, Jiang Chengyuan’s voice lacked much emotion, as if she were just an unrelated person.

Jiang Chengyuan went to the wardrobe and picked out a clean set of clothes for Xiao Zhou to change into.

Taking the clothes, Xiao Zhou asked while putting them on, “So why does your mother feel guilty towards her? Is it because you were separated from Lu Xi after Lu Xiyuan went to prison, which caused Lu Xi to have a mental breakdown?”

Jiang Chengyuan looked at him. “Are you questioning me or blaming me?”

Xiao Zhou paused, then continued buttoning his shirt while looking down. “I’m just speculating. Even if she went mad, she was still sensitive and jealous of the people around you. She must have loved you deeply back then, right? And what about you? Did you ever love her, or did you abandon her just because of her stain?”

Finishing the last button, Xiao Zhou raised his head, his eyes sharp as swords. It was as if he empathized in an instant, deeply understanding the tragic fate of that mad woman and the anguish of being betrayed by a loved one, now seeking an explanation for the mistakes made by that past lover.

Jiang Chengyuan’s expression darkened for a moment, extremely gloomy. He remained silent for a while. Xiao Zhou tried to find signs of remorse or guilt on his face, but there were none. His cold and distant mask was flawless, leaving Xiao Zhou unsure whether this indifference was his armor or if he truly felt nothing about the matter.

Love diminishes, sweet words are mere disguises, promises are empty talk, and the passionate tenderness during embraces and kisses are fleeting illusions. It was all a unilateral self-indulgence.

Though Xiao Zhou felt indignation for someone he had no connection to, revealing his impulsive bravery without considering the consequences, Jiang Chengyuan wasn’t as indifferent as Xiao Zhou had thought. He did indeed recall that woman.

She was proud and willful, raised in a pampered and privileged environment like a hothouse flower. She was indeed as beautiful and delicate as a flower, and her occasional temper tantrums weren’t overly disliked, just seen as the whims of a daughter, which people indulged.

With her youthful beauty, a reasonably sharp mind, and a father who was a prominent lawyer, she had a pass to everything she wanted, achieving whatever she set her mind to. Her life was smooth sailing, with her biggest worry perhaps being discovering a pimple on her face the day before a date with a new boyfriend.

Her most reckless act was falling head over heels for a new partner at her father’s law firm, despite her father’s objections, relentlessly pursuing that man without regard for her own dignity.

And the man’s indifference towards her made her passion double, turning into a competitive obsession.

In fact, Jiang Chengyuan neither disliked nor was particularly interested in such a woman. She was a beautiful vase, both outwardly and inwardly, that could be displayed generously. Additionally, with her father’s connections and wealth, if it were the current Jiang Chengyuan, Lu Xi could have been an ideal match.

But unfortunately, Lu Xi appeared at the wrong time. All her gentleness was wasted on a cold, hard stone.

At that time, Jiang Chengyuan was not yet mature enough, still groping aimlessly at the crossroads of life. He had not yet learned the art of pretense and manipulation, and he didn’t know that emotions could be faked or used. His values had just been shattered without having a chance to be rebuilt. He couldn’t even see himself clearly, let alone others.

Back then, Jiang Chengyuan had just left Wu Yichang’s firm. Everyone thought he left because of the rape case involving Wanwan, which had left Wu Yichang devastated. Following an old lawyer in his twilight years offered no future. Few people knew that just a year earlier, the rapist had been Jiang Chengyuan’s client.

At that time, Wu Yichang was suffering from gout and couldn’t endure the long hours of travel. Jiang Chengyuan took over, enduring a nine-hour ride on a green train, two hours by a smelly diesel car, and three hours by an open ox cart, arriving in a mountain town at dawn.

He had traveled thousands of miles, exhausted, only to take on a pro bono public welfare case. The client’s grandfather had been beaten back after petitioning and sought help everywhere, finally reaching Wu Yichang. Wu Yichang saw the case and found something fishy, so he took it on.

Meeting with the client and reviewing the files were obstructed at every turn. In the remote and backward place, bureaucracy and personal connections far outweighed regulations. Although there were rules, the means of enforcement were lacking, rendering everything on paper useless. Jiang Chengyuan spent all his money and only with a thousand yuan got the chance to meet Wang Li.

The meeting took place under local police surveillance. Jiang Chengyuan saw a dazed, shuffling, emaciated man enter, wearing a new prison uniform. His wrists and ankles were raw and infected from the shackles. He spoke incoherently, his expression vacant, and he kept nodding off.

Jiang Chengyuan knew the police’s interrogation tactics. Whenever the prisoner was about to fall asleep, they would be hit with a bright light or struck on the back with a baton. After several days of such high-intensity interrogation without sleep, even a strong person would break down and say whatever was demanded.

During this meeting, Wang Li couldn’t provide any useful information. His account was disjointed, and aside from repeatedly proclaiming his innocence, he could hardly answer Jiang Chengyuan’s questions.

But before the meeting ended, Wang Li secretly took out a blood-stained old prison uniform from under his new one and handed it to Jiang Chengyuan. He mumbled, with tears streaming down his face, “They… beat me…”

From the files, although Wang Li was the last person in contact with the deceased and couldn’t provide an alibi for the estimated time of death, the murder weapon was still missing. A third-party belt buckle was found at the scene, and Wang Li’s confessions had changed four times, with many contradictions. The blood-stained shirt made it hard not to suspect coercion.

Based on these circumstances, Jiang Chengyuan began submitting appeal materials to the provincial high court, procuratorate, and Ministry of Justice, invoking the presumption of innocence principle. Coinciding with a nationwide judicial rectification campaign, the case was finally accepted by the Supreme Procuratorate’s Criminal Complaint Division, and the provincial procuratorate began reinvestigating.

Later, the media found the defendant’s grandfather, who tearfully recounted the hardships of the past year’s petitions in front of the camera, leading to public exposure and widespread attention.

A special investigation team was formed by the supervisory authorities, and the case was reopened.

In court, the former captain of the criminal police squad who handled the case was unusually furious. Faced with the defendant’s grievous injuries, he lost control and shouted, “I’ve been a criminal police officer for thirty years, and I trust my instincts. That bastard is the murderer! If I didn’t trust myself, I would have been thrown off a building twenty years ago. What do you bookworms know! Have you ever caught a criminal? Have you ever been stabbed in the chest? Can you stay awake for a week searching the entire district’s sewers just to find the remaining pieces of a dismembered body? You can’t even stand the smell of a corpse!”

In his final year before retirement, the old police captain was suspended for investigation.

During his suspension, the old captain was emotionally agitated, repeatedly proclaiming his innocence. The day before the trial for coerced confession, he went to the outskirts, used the metal tab of a cola can to slit his wrists, wrote numerous characters for “injustice” on a tree trunk, and finally hanged himself on a tree. His body was left exposed to the sun for a day and a night before being discovered.

His suicide shocked the task force and higher authorities. To prevent further escalation, all the expected punishments and judgments were gradually downplayed and minimized, citing the main culprit’s death. The old captain’s death protected the other involved police officers.

The tragedy made Jiang Chengyuan doubt, but Wang Li’s pitiful appearance and the chaotic, flawed evidence system convinced him that Wang Li shouldn’t be convicted.

A month after his release, Wang Li traveled from the distant county to the city where Jiang Chengyuan was. He knelt down in the old, shabby law firm where Jiang Chengyuan worked, right under a quote from the Bible that Wu Yichang had written on the wall: “Listen to the words of the wise and to those of the lowly.” He knelt right under that line.

The knee collided with the floor tiles, making a crisp sound.

This sound, clear and piercing, was the same as when he was captured a year later and fell to the ground. It left Jiang Chengyuan in a daze for a long time.

Wu Wanwan’s body still contained traces of the suspect’s DNA. During the arrest, Wang Li was brutally beaten while resisting and trying to escape. His head hit the table leg twice. By the time he was pushed into the police car, he was black and blue, looking just as pitiful as when they first met.

As he passed Jiang Chengyuan, Wang Li, who had been hanging his head, suddenly looked up, smiled at him, revealing his toothless grin—two of his front teeth had been knocked out a year ago during interrogation, leaving a dark, gaping hole, making his smile look eerie and frightening.

He said, “You shouldn’t have helped me.”

A cruel coincidence.

To escape the guilt, Jiang Chengyuan had to convince himself that he was just fulfilling his duty as a lawyer. Lawyers have the freedom to choose their cases and should treat all clients equally, without bias. It’s the judge’s responsibility to decide, to determine guilt or innocence.

But why did he take this case?

He remained lost, like an insect trapped in a web, struggling without a way out.

Eventually, he left the city.

Later, Lin Jian’an’s men intercepted his car on the highway. Alone, the road was strewn with nails under the cold, knife-like moonlight. There was a roadblock further ahead; if he drove through, the car would either get a flat tire or overturn.

He stopped the car, and a dozen men surrounded him with machetes and iron bars. As he stepped out of the driver’s seat, Lin Jian’an greeted him politely as “Lawyer Jiang.” With a thud, a box of money was thrown onto the car’s hood.

Things that can’t be measured are too intangible, but this box was heavy and substantial, both in weight and quantity.

Lin Jian’an half-persuaded and half-threatened, alternating between kindness and menace, looking fierce, vicious, and ridiculous under the moonlight. Jiang Chengyuan looked at him and thought, does someone like this deserve protection?

If he could defend someone like Wang Li, why not Lin Jian’an? At least, he had the excuse of being compensated.

Lin Jian’an asked him to think carefully about his answer.

Jiang Chengyuan looked at the box of money and then said, “One billion.”

This was his first attempt. From the death penalty to a commuted sentence was already a win. Jiang Chengyuan’s path was rocky, though his reputation was bad, he could straightforwardly say he was only protecting the basic human rights of criminals, even those deserving death, upholding procedural justice.

He was cold, unfeeling, and criticized by many, but this case brought him fame. Many prestigious law firms extended offers to him.

He chose Lu Xiyuan’s firm because they offered the most generous compensation.

Then he met Lu Xi. They were both partners, each leading a team. Though they focused on different types of cases, they often had opportunities to collaborate.

Initially, Jiang Chengyuan didn’t pay much attention to this beautiful, playful woman until one day, at a celebration, she drugged his drink, making him pass out, and secretly tore off his suppressant patch, exposing his damaged glands…

“Your mum gave me something.”

Xiao Zhou’s voice brought Jiang Chengyuan back from his thoughts.

He saw Xiao Zhou pick up the pants from the floor and take out a carved box from the pocket. The box had gotten a bit wet. Xiao Zhou opened it, revealing a ruby ring inside.

He handed the box over, “This doesn’t belong to me.”

Jiang Chengyuan looked at the ruby ring, then at Xiao Zhou.

He, too, had been young and reckless. Outwardly, he had brought this person back to save him, out of kindness, but in reality, it was still to humiliate him. He wanted to see him go from stubbornness to confusion to submission, to watch him change, to see him endure in silence due to self-loathing and guilt, just as if he were punishing his younger self.

See, even the highest flying bird will fall when its wings are clipped, the brightest sun will be swallowed by darkness, no flower blooms forever, and no integrity remains unshaken.

Even though Xiao Zhou despised his past actions, he still stayed by his side, enduring everything.

How despicable this behavior was. What did Xiao Zhou do wrong? He had even inadvertently saved him once. Should bravery that was exploited be punished this way?

That’s still better than those with the power to act choosing to stand by, those in the know choosing apathy, and the voice of justice remaining silent when most needed, allowing evil to run rampant in broad daylight.

So, he often softened and couldn’t bear to see him lost and dejected.

Jiang Chengyuan took the box from Xiao Zhou and put it away, then lowered his eyes, saying lightly, “I’ll return it.”