A black sedan stopped in front of the courthouse.
Su Wenli got out of the back seat, wearing a dark gray suit with a black lawyer's robe over it, gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and a briefcase in his hand.
The dozens of reporters and hundreds of onlookers holding signs at the entrance instantly became agitated, with microphones being poked at them from all directions.
"Attorney Su! The defendant brutally murdered his classmate; the evidence is conclusive. Why are you still defending him?"
"Is it true that you accepted this case for an exorbitant legal fee, as some online sources claim?"
"The victim's family says you are helping the murderer escape punishment. What is your response?"
Su Wenli didn't stop walking, only slightly turning his head, his voice clear and cold. "Everything will wait until the trial is over."
A bailiff stopped the reporter, but he walked into the courthouse without looking back.
The case has garnered widespread attention online, with several members of the jury being well-known bloggers who follow the case.
The trial began with the prosecutor reading the first-instance judgment, followed by a series of on-site photos and photos of the murder weapon displayed on the large screen.
The victim's family members in the audience broke down in tears, and the live stream of the official trial was filled with comments like "death penalty," "beast," and " Su Wenli, get out of the legal profession."
Then it was Su Wenli's turn to provide evidence.
He took a document from his briefcase and handed it to the presiding judge, speaking calmly and deliberately, "Your Honor, these are screenshots from the campus surveillance footage over the past year, a total of forty-seven images. They record twenty-one separate incidents in which the defendant was surrounded, beaten, and extorted by the victim and his accomplices. The first piece of evidence is from September 12th, in the third-floor restroom of the teaching building, where the victim burned the defendant's left forearm with a lighter for eleven seconds."
One by one, the surveillance screenshots were projected onto the large screen.
The image is blurry, but it's clear enough to see a thin boy cornered against a wall by several students a head taller than him. Some are holding his shoulders, some are rummaging through his backpack, and others are holding a lighter close to his arm.
The crying in the audience gradually subsided.
"The second piece of evidence is the injury assessment report from the Municipal People's Hospital, dated three months before the incident. The defendant has a total of thirty-seven new and old injuries all over his body, distributed on his back, arms, calves, and neck. Among them, the burn wound on his left forearm matches the burning behavior in the surveillance video perfectly."
The jury began whispering among themselves. Some said, "What does thirty-seven wounds mean?" Others insisted, "Even if you're bullied, you can't kill someone," but their voices were clearly losing their conviction.
Su Wenli then summoned three witnesses: the defendant's homeroom teacher, a classmate from the next class, and the owner of the convenience store at the school gate.
The homeroom teacher admitted that the child had come to her to complain several times, but each time he said he was "just playing around with his classmates."
A classmate from the next class said he often saw the boy sitting alone in the stairwell crying.
The shop owner said that the older students would come every week demanding money, and would attack him if he didn't give it to them. He had called the police, but nothing came of it.
The three people, from different perspectives, confirmed the same thing: the boy had been bullied for a whole year, and despite reporting it to the school and teachers multiple times, he had not received any effective protection.
Su Wenli closed the case file, his voice remaining calm.
"Your Honor, the prosecution claims my client used cruel methods, and I do not deny the consequences of his actions. However, a fourteen-year-old child repeatedly cried for help to no avail for a year, was burned with a lighter by his abuser on the day of the incident, and was threatened with having his legs broken after school. Should this court ignore his fear and helplessness?"
"The purpose of the law is not only to punish crime, but also to protect every citizen from harm. When a victim has nowhere to turn for help and the law fails to protect him; when he loses control in fear, the law still tries to judge him. I urge the panel of judges to re-examine all the facts of this case, and not just the three minutes that occurred."
The jury was in complete uproar.
The overwhelming consensus on the death penalty has shifted to a more polarized stance, with more and more people saying things like, "After seeing this evidence, I stand with Attorney Su," "What exactly was the verdict in the first instance?" and "This child is also a victim."
The trial lasted four hours.
The panel of judges pronounced its verdict in court: the original judgment was overturned, the case was remanded for retrial, the defendant was found to have acted in self-defense, and the sentence was changed to three years' imprisonment with a four-year suspended sentence. The defendant was released in court.
The gavel fell.
The boy's mother, who was in the audience, burst into tears. The boy, sitting in the defendant's seat, trembled for a long time before daring to raise his head to look at the back of the lawyer in the black robe in the defense seat. A faint light appeared in the darkness in the boy's eyes.
As soon as Su Wenli stepped out of the courthouse, he was surrounded by reporters.
He said expressionlessly, "Everything is subject to the judgment," and refused to speak again no matter how much the reporter pressed him for answers.
The car door closed, he leaned back in the leather seat, loosened his tie, and revealed his first smile since getting in the car.
I really want to see their expressions now—disappointment, or regret.
"Card!"
Song Shi'an immediately loosened his tie. He had used too much force to show off, and the tie was so tight that he could hardly breathe. Sure enough, showing off comes at a price.
He took off his lawyer's robe, revealing a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.
Lin Fan rushed forward and took the tie and briefcase. "Bro, you were so cool just now! You moved me so much that I almost forgot you were playing a scumbag."
Song Shi'an patted him on the shoulder. "Stop it. Think about how awful Su Wenli is, and you won't find him handsome anymore."
Lin Fan always felt that his brother's logic was full of twisted arguments.
The director stood up from behind the monitor, his face still bearing the emotional impact of the scene he had just witnessed.
Throughout the twenty-minute long take, Song Shi'an maintained a consistently stable performance, delivering a steady and nuanced emotional progression.
All eyes were on him, even the extras in the audience were drawn in. When the gavel fell, some people actually cried; his emotional impact was truly incredible!
It has to be said that this kid is quite skilled; it's not just his striking appearance, but also the inexplicable tension he exudes.
Lu Shiyue squatted outside the film set, her camera only capturing glimpses of Song Shi'an getting out of and into the car.
She flipped through those photos, feeling a surge of resentment. She couldn't see inside the courtroom; she really wanted to see Attorney Su dominating the courtroom.
The director pulled Song Shi'an aside to film some more close-up shots.
As filming progressed, the director grew increasingly satisfied and couldn't resist suggesting, " Xiao An, how about we give you some more screen time? We can connect it in the next segment and have Su Wenli play a villain with a hidden backstory."
Song Shi'an almost knelt down on the spot, begging the director not to act on a whim.
This character already has enough screen time; it barely stays within the safe limit of one-twentieth of the role. Adding any more would trigger the system to issue an alarm.
Director, if you want to see him again, you'll have to go to heaven; the system has already taken him back. Thanks for the invitation!