Undercurrents and Pressure
The uproar over the lawyer's visit was like a stone tossed into cell 107. The ripples it stirred soon settled on the surface, but beneath the water, the undercurrents quietly changed direction.
During outdoor time, sunlight still fell grudgingly on the small patch of open ground enclosed by the high walls. Lin Feng leaned against the foot of the wall as usual, his eyes narrowed as though he were dozing. But the atmosphere around him had clearly changed.
Before, prisoners from the other cells had mostly looked at him with curiosity, apprehension, or the indifference of people who had nothing to do with him. Now their gazes held a little more scrutiny and something hard to put into words. Occasionally, an acquaintance would come over to Scar and, while offering him a cigarette and a light, lower his voice to ask, "Brother Ba, I heard the lawyer for that guy in your cell... has quite a background? Did you see him?"
Scar would straighten his slightly hunched back, accept the cigarette, and blow a smoke ring with an air of studied gravity. "Mm, he came. A big-name lawyer known throughout the province, specializes in the toughest cases. His family and Brother Feng's go way back... Sigh, some things are hard to talk about." He deliberately left plenty to the imagination, letting the other man fill in the blanks.
Once, a man who was usually quite overbearing and called himself "the cellblock tyrant" happened to wander near Lin Feng's usual spot during outdoor time. Scar gave him a wary glare, and the man actually shrank back on instinct and awkwardly went around.
Lin Feng took in every subtle change and understood. Zhou Wenyuan's appearance had been like a shot in the arm, not only for his parents but also, in this closed little world, invisibly raising his perceived importance and air of mystery. Passed from mouth to mouth countless times, the rumors had long since strayed from the truth, casting him as a young master with connections reaching to the heavens who had come down to "experience life."
At that moment, Zhou Wenyuan was outside the high walls, methodically weaving his web of pressure.
Inside the Wenyuan Law Firm, the lights shone brightly.
Zhou Wenyuan sat behind a spacious desk, his fingers flying across the keyboard. On the screen was a carefully worded legal opinion, supported by extensive legal citations, titled "Legal Opinion Against Approving the Arrest of Lin Feng on Suspicion of Forcible Indecency."
He included the contents of the recorded conversation between Sun Tingting and her close friend in vague terms, attributing them to "information circulating among the victim's classmates." He emphasized the weakness of the evidence, the shortcomings of the "letter of repentance," the only evidence against Lin Feng, and the possibility that the authorities handling the case had presumed him guilty.
The printed document still smelled of ink when he picked up the landline and dialed a number.
"Director Li, it's me, Wenyuan. I'm not disturbing you, am I?... There's a small case. I'll have someone send a copy of the materials to your office. Could you take a look when you have time? It's about a college student. The evidence is far too flimsy, and I suspect the officers handling it have made up their minds from the start... Yes, yes, sorry for the trouble. Let's have tea another day."
After hanging up, he dialed another number, his tone a little more relaxed. "Old Wang, it's Old Zhou. Who's handling the Southwest Sub-bureau's cases in your procuratorate's investigation supervision section now?... Old Zhao? All right, I happen to have some materials to send over. Pass a message along for me: tell him the case has drawn considerable public attention, so they should review it carefully and not be afraid of offending anyone. The key is to act according to the law."
He even emailed the deputy editor-in-chief of a well-known local legal newspaper, attaching an opinion piece titled "Procedural Justice Should Not Give Way to Public Prejudice-A Brief Analysis of the Evidentiary Dilemmas in Certain Current Sexual Assault Allegations." It made no mention of Lin Feng's case, but several details in its examples subtly echoed it.
These actions, as fine and silent as spring rain, fell precisely on the various stages of the judicial process.
In the municipal bureau's criminal investigation detachment office, Zhang Qian slammed a stack of case files onto the desk with a loud smack, drawing glances from several colleagues nearby.
Her chest heaved, and her face was grim. Just now, the prosecutor surnamed Zhao from the procuratorate's investigation supervision section had repeatedly pressed her over the phone about how the "letter of repentance" had come to be written, questioned whether it might have been induced, and reminded her that "approving an arrest requires caution, especially when the suspect has made no confession and the main evidence is in doubt."
Immediately afterward, the deputy detachment chief had called her in as well. He had tactfully asked about the case and hinted that "someone higher up has put in a word. They want us to follow the law, but also to be mindful of the repercussions and avoid creating a wrongful conviction."
"Follow the law? Be mindful of the repercussions?" Zhang Qian was so angry she nearly laughed. "The evidence against that little hooligan is conclusive! And now I'm the one not following the law? It must be that Zhou Wenyuan! Throwing his little bit of fame around and stirring up trouble everywhere!"
She was certain that the high-powered lawyer Lin Feng's family had paid to hire was making waves, trying to use connections and public opinion to overwhelm the facts. That belief filled her with the anger of someone who had been profaned, and only stoked her obstinacy and fighting spirit further.
"Trying to get off using those crooked tricks? Dream on!" She gritted her teeth and sat back down at her computer, her eyes cold. "The procedure is in my hands! I'll do everything by the book, and we'll see who can find fault with it!"
She began going through the case files even more frantically, trying to dig up any trace in Lin Feng's past that might prove his "bad character." She scrutinized every word in the letter of repentance again and again, trying to strengthen its evidentiary value. At the same time, she carefully calculated the detention deadline, determined to submit the "request for approval of arrest" the moment it arrived. She had already begun preparing an outline for the first "supplementary investigation report"-even though there was currently no new direction that called for any supplementary investigation at all. Her goal was simple: drag it out! Drag it out legally! Extend Lin Feng's detention as long as possible, use time to wear down the opposing lawyer's patience and grind away the last hope of that pitiful pair of parents, and also let that little hooligan experience the full "power" of the law.
Inside the detention center, Lin Feng calmly listened to Zhou Wenyuan's report through their mental link.
[Master, the pressure has been applied, but Zhang Qian is strongly opposed. She intends to use procedure to drag things out and is expected to request two supplementary investigations, which means the detention period could last more than half a year.]
[The evidence we currently have, particularly the recording, has legal defects. An outright reversal will be difficult, but there is a strong chance of securing a decision not to prosecute. It will simply take time.]
Lin Feng "listened" in silence. Half a year? That was longer than he had expected. But he did not particularly mind. For him, this place might well be an excellent place to lie low and develop.
Taking advantage of his slightly improved circumstances, he began making arrangements on another front.
"Scar." Back in the cell after outdoor time, Lin Feng called him over in a level voice.
"Yes! Brother Feng, what do you need?" Scar immediately came over, his eagerness undisguised.
"We've got nothing better to do. Tell me, what sort of 'figures' are there in this detention center?" Lin Feng's tone was casual, as though he were merely passing the time.
Scar's eyes lit up. Taking it as a sign that "Brother Feng" valued him, he immediately lowered his voice and began listing them as though reciting his own treasures. "Brother Feng, you've asked the right man! The waters in this detention center run deep!"
"The boss of those cells on the east side was running a fundraising scam. He swindled people out of hundreds of millions, and his connections on the outside are rock-solid. I hear he gets special meals every day!"
"There's a big, dim-witted guy over on the west side. He stabbed someone to death by accident in a fight at a slaughterhouse. He's a hotheaded fool, but he's damn good at fighting. Nobody dares mess with him."
"There's an old thief upstairs in 203. Calls himself the 'king of thieves.' It's his third time inside, and they say he hasn't lost his touch. He just got caught by surveillance cameras this time..."
"And there's that skinny monkey next door in 106. He used to be a loan shark and specialized in settling problems for people. Dirty hands and a ruthless heart..."
Scar rattled off his descriptions, practically spraying spit. Lin Feng listened with apparent indifference, occasionally murmuring an "mm," while quickly committing the information to memory: financial criminals, violent criminals, habitual thieves, hooligans... These people might have been small fry on the outside, but within these high walls, they formed a miniature gray society, each with their own connections and value.
He even had Scar casually spread the word: Brother Feng liked peace and quiet, but he was reasonable too. If anyone had a problem, or any news from "outside," they could send word.
Gradually, cell 107 seemed to become a special hub for information. Someone secretly told Scar which guard was short of money lately; someone else discreetly passed along word of an anti-gang crackdown outside. One person even wanted to show respect to "Brother Feng" through Scar, passing in half a pack of good cigarettes.
Lin Feng turned none of it away and never took a position. He simply had Scar accept it and then divide it equally among the people in the cell. This impartial yet unfathomable manner quietly raised his standing.
He was like a stone cast to the bottom of the water, silent on the surface, yet steadily drawing the surrounding silt to himself and quietly changing the ecology beneath the water. Outside were Zhou Wenyuan's legal offensive and the pressure of personal connections; inside were the invisible authority and information network he was gradually building.
Within the high walls, undercurrents surged. He lay low patiently, gathering strength and waiting for the moment when he would finally break through. Half a year? Perhaps it would not take that long.