Chapter 1872 - Out with the Old, In with the New (Part 8)
These words puzzled Mu Min. "Redress," "clear the dead man's name"—it sounded like a wrongful conviction case. Yet she had been told it was a murder case.
Looking at the policeman, he didn't seem to be faking. There appeared to be some tremendous injustice here. Mu Min nodded: "Take her to the preliminary hearing room. I'll be there shortly."
"Thank you, Chief!" The policeman looked like he wanted to drop to his knees and kowtow. Mu Min smiled helplessly. These situations were becoming ever more common. Cases similar to "blocking the sedan to cry injustice" or "striking the drum to proclaim grievances" were being forwarded by municipal and district governments every day. Meanwhile, the courtroom that Judge Liang had so carefully prepared saw few visitors.
However, looking at it another way, almost all the forwarded cases were criminal, involving human life. Either the circumstances were unclear or there were grievances—and often they were old cases. Just untangling the threads required tremendous effort.
She finished her current business and went to the preliminary hearing room. She saw that the woman filing the complaint was in her thirties, dressed gaudily, her face painted in a garish manner—she appeared to be a prostitute from the pleasure district.
Mu Min had always disliked prostitutes. Her expression hardened as she asked: "What is your name? What grievance do you wish to report?"
The woman sobbed: "This commoner woman is Wang née He. There is an old case from years past. I beg Your Honor... Chief... to redress it!" At "redress," she dropped with a thud to her knees, wailing inconsolably.
The crying was extremely pitiful, but for Mu Min this was routine. She nodded: "Stop crying. Stand up and speak slowly."
The woman wiped her tears and haltingly told her story.
The case itself was not complicated. Her maiden name was He, given name Xi. Born to a moderately prosperous family, she had learned to read and write as a child. At sixteen she married a local xiucai surnamed Wang. It was a good match between equals, and as young newlyweds, their marriage had been harmonious and loving.
This xiucai surnamed Wang had studied at Wenlan Academy. Ten years ago, outraged by the trustees and managers embezzling public funds and skimming money, he had rallied fellow students to protest—at one point creating quite a stir known throughout the city.
Unexpectedly, the academy Director Mo Rongxin was extremely vicious. He had colluded with the Guandi Temple faction to send con men to lure Scholar Wang into gambling. A few rigged games later, Scholar Wang was not only bankrupt but deep in debt, with even the family's modest ancestral property seized to pay what he owed.
Though by then he had come to his senses and realized he had fallen into Mo Rongxin's trap, there was nothing he could do.
"...At the time, I too urged him to stop fighting the Mo family—just endure and it would pass," the woman wept. "Who could have imagined the Mo family would be so vicious..."
Though she spoke of viciousness, she wouldn't say what exactly. The policeman spoke on her behalf: at the time, to clear the debts, she had gone to her family's home to discuss raising money. One day when she was alone at home, someone brought her a message saying her family had agreed and she should hurry over to discuss. So He Xi had rushed off following the messenger.
"...That journey led straight into the tiger's jaws," the policeman sighed. "As it turned out, this too was arranged by Mo Rongxin."
He Xi's family home was outside the city. Partway there, feeling thirsty, she had drunk a cup of cooling tea at a roadside stall. Upon drinking it, she lost consciousness. When she awoke, she was in a ruined temple, stripped naked—she had been raped.
At this part, He Xi could only collapse on the ground, weeping. Mu Min knew that in the social environment of the time, for a woman of her scholarly family background to be violated meant only death. She felt great sympathy.
Naturally, the news spread like wildfire throughout the city—vivid tales that she had been caught fornicating with a monk in that ruined temple. Scholar Wang, already suffering financial ruin, now faced this complete loss of face. He suffered a total mental breakdown and finally hanged himself at the academy. He Xi herself, because of "wife pays husband's debts," was sold into the pleasure district as a prostitute.
"I wanted to end my own life, but my brother from my family's side persuaded me, saying: 'If there are days when the sky is dark, there will also be days when it brightens. Even the Yellow River will run clear one day. Can the Mo family really cover the sky with one hand forever?'" With that, she began weeping again.
These words brought tears to the policeman too. Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, he comforted her: "Don't cry. The Chief will give you justice."
Mu Min was furious. Since entering Guangzhou, she had handled countless cases and seen many that would never see the light of day, but never had she encountered such a vicious scheme to destroy a family. Yet thinking it over, this had nothing to do with criminal homicide. Her husband had committed suicide—she acknowledged this herself. The only prosecutable charges were: one, the con men setting up the gambling trap, which could be treated as fraud; two, drugging and raping her, which constituted rape. Neither charge amounted to a capital case. Moreover, the case was more than ten years old. Physical evidence had surely all been destroyed, and witnesses were who knew where. How could a case be filed based on her testimony alone? And under what charges?
However, since this case involved Wenlan Academy and the Guandi Temple faction, it was certainly useful "black material." Mu Min made up her mind and immediately ordered that she first be taken to give a complete statement.
"After the statement is recorded, take her to the municipal detention center for temporary custody. Don't let her go out again."
"Yes!" Seeing Mu Min's serious attitude, the policeman was greatly encouraged.
Lu Dagang walked out the gate of the Guangzhou Police Bureau, rolling his aching neck. On the way, police personnel—whether veteran naturalized officers from Hainan or newly recruited Guangzhou officers—all had to call him "First-Class Commander Comrade." This police rank was if not unique in Guangzhou, then certainly rare.
He had previously worked at a precinct in Lingao. After being selected for the Qiongya Column and transferred to Guangzhou, everyone had been promoted one or more ranks. He had been appointed captain of Patrol Team One under the Municipal Bureau's Public Order Section, commanding a hundred or so newly recruited officers, while also serving as an instructor at the Police Academy. He was usually swamped.
Lu Dagang actually enjoyed this busyness. At the start of the Northern Campaign, his supervisor had told him his future prospects were unlimited—eventually he would at least reach that supervisor's position. After leaving the labor reform camp, his name had been changed. At the time he hadn't understood the significance; now he saw that the single character difference made it much more dignified, befitting his position as captain. Captain Lu had tasted power and found his work deeply satisfying.
Today, accompanying Bureau Chief Mu on her inspection of his patrol zone, she had seemed satisfied with his work and had hinted at further promotion. This filled Lu Dagang with dedication to the Northern Campaign cause, making him even more vigorous in training his squad of greenhorns.
Lu Dagang was planning to grab a quick bite on the street and return to his dormitory when he suddenly heard footsteps approaching from behind. These past days, Bureau Chief Mu had been drumming into him that reactionary forces in Guangzhou had temporarily gone dormant due to the Executive Council's power, but the Ming loyalists would never willingly give up their interests. They were constantly waiting for opportunities to sabotage the Council. Lu Dagang tensed. One hand drew his gun as he spun around, shouting: "Who's there!"
The approaching person quickly stopped and explained: "Cousin! It's me... your cousin Han Changle!"
"Cousin?!"
The sun was setting west, red clouds spreading across the sky. Not far from the Municipal Police Bureau dormitory, in a small tavern, two men occupied a table waiting for their food.
This tavern had recently opened. Because it was nearby and the naturalized police who had come from Lingao generally didn't bring families, and though the canteen provided three meals, they sometimes wanted a change of taste—so the tavern prospered. Due to police schedules, it stayed open until midnight—quite unusual for Guangzhou's dining industry at the time.
"Little brother! After the Hainan defeat, I tried to find you. Uncle and Auntie passed away early; you have no siblings; you hadn't even married. If I didn't look after you, who would? As soon as my leg could touch the ground, I went asking after you. The men who escaped had all been scared witless—who could spare a thought for you? Curse my lame leg—otherwise I'd have chased all the way to Lingao to find you." Han Changle spoke six parts truth, four parts embellishment, but his eyes filled with tears as he spoke. Lu Dagang had no family left in the world. Since his youth he had been in the army—whether in the Ming military or Lingao, he had always lived collectively. He had rarely experienced familial affection. Now, meeting this relative who could at least be called a cousin, and hearing such moving words, he too was moved to tears.
The two reminisced about the past with great emotion. Lu Dagang asked about Han Changle's current livelihood. Han Changle didn't dare tell the truth, only saying he was getting by as a guard for a wealthy family.
Before long, the dishes arrived. Two cold dishes to accompany the wine: boiled peanuts and cold jellyfish dressed with sesame oil. Then two hot dishes: the famous Australian dish of tomatoes scrambled with eggs, and stir-fried pork. Finally, a pot of steaming braised fish was placed in the center. Lu Dagang had work tomorrow, so he only ordered a few ounces of yellow wine to ward off the evening dampness.
The waiter also specially brought two bottles of chilled tea-mushroom drink, saying it was on the house.
As they ate and talked, Han Changle studied Lu Dagang covertly. In the few years since they'd last met, Lu Dagang had grown much more robust, with a hardy, capable air between his brows. A leather belt at his waist made his figure look erect and trim. On the belt hung a leather holster from which protruded a gleaming black handle—clearly the "revolving pistol" commonly used by Australians. Han Changle pointed at Lu Dagang's waist: "Even such military-grade weapons you have—I can see little brother is highly valued by Great Song."
This remark hit Lu Dagang's sweet spot. He answered with undisguised pride: "It's no big deal. Most cadres from Hainan were issued one—the Ming territories are chaotic, who knows when some fool will come out to oppose the Executive Council. With this, let them waltz in or leap in, whatever martial arts master—one bullet and they're not coming back." He patted the pistol at his waist.
Han Changle sighed: "Little brother, you truly are blessed with great fortune and destiny. Back then we thought you might not even keep your life; now you've joined Great Song and become one of its officials. You could say you've returned home in glory."
(End of Chapter)