Chapter 1903 - Shen Ruiming's Indictment

The buzzing commentary reached Zhang Yunmi's ears, making her slightly nervous at her first appearance in such a major public venue—especially since she'd learned enough Cantonese to detect the flirtatious mockery in their words. Her face flushed deeper.

Fortunately, having spent considerable time in Guangzhou and having taught classes to naturalized cadres, she'd developed substantial immunity to being the center of attention. She simply acted as if she hadn't heard, focusing on organizing the documents in her hands.

The courtroom was packed to capacity. Zeng Juan had arrived before dawn to queue, and now his wish had been fulfilled—he'd squeezed right to the front. This case had begun with the disappearance of his niece Mingnu. He often reflected on this, feeling lingering fear and gratitude, along with a touch of pride: if he hadn't gone to Li Ziyu for help back then, the case probably wouldn't have been discovered for quite some time.

Zeng Juan had been preparing for the civil service examination, but when the plague struck months ago, the exam was naturally suspended. Zeng Juan and his family had stayed at home, rarely venturing out. His father's business had actually prospered—more deaths meant better sales of incense and candles. So the epidemic had benefited the Zeng family somewhat.

During the plague, no one in the Zeng family fell ill. But Zeng Juan's brother-in-law, who ran a teahouse business with extensive contacts, contracted the plague and died. His wife had tougher luck and survived, but because she was implicated in the Witchcraft Case, she'd been detained. According to Gao Chongjiu's acquaintances in the bureau, she would face at minimum exile to Jeju Island or Taiwan or somewhere similar.

The fate of this "adulterous couple" gave Zeng Juan considerable satisfaction. But with his brother-in-law dead, his three nephews became orphans, now being cared for by Zeng Juan's parents. The daily expenses were considerable. Still, the family lived together harmoniously and contentedly.

After the epidemic ended, the teahouse his brother-in-law had left behind was permitted to reopen. But there was no one to manage it. According to Zeng Juan's father, Zeng Juan should take over as shop manager. As an uncle managing the teahouse to raise his nephews to adulthood was something outsiders certainly couldn't criticize. Although the Wanshengliu Teahouse was small, business was decent. Moreover, the waiters and cook there preferred this arrangement and had approached the Zeng family hoping Zeng Juan would take charge.

However, Zeng Juan had his heart set on the civil service examination—being a teahouse manager was too boring! So he refused to "take over," which enraged his father, who called him "refusing to eat the meat right in the pot while dreaming about the painting on the wall." He even threatened to burn his study materials. But Zeng Juan's mother was more perceptive, scolding her husband: "Though you can eat this meat now, this pot ultimately belongs to Huazi and Chengzi—they don't share the Zeng surname! Won't he have to give it back to them someday? What will our boy do then?"

Zeng Juan's father had no rebuttal to that, finally managing after a long pause: "His civil service exam isn't guaranteed either, while the teahouse at least brings in some income! This big family can't survive on his empty talk!"

Ultimately, both sides compromised. Zeng Juan could take the civil service exam, but until he passed, he'd serve as teahouse manager. Fortunately, the waiters, cook, and purchaser were all experienced hands, so Zeng Juan would basically just sit watch.

This meant far less time for studying, leaving Zeng Juan downcast these past few days.

Still, he persisted in his exam preparation. Hearing the Maojia Inn case would be publicly tried today, he'd risen early and rushed over to attend. His chosen directions for the civil service exam were taxation and judiciary. According to the reference books, both categories were closely related to Australian law. Observing the trial might help with the exam.

On the other side of the iron railing was the courtroom, with the reserved gallery on either side. The "lords" seated there were of varying heights and builds—Zeng Juan didn't recognize any of them, nor was he particularly interested. But his gaze kept being drawn to the Australian woman seated behind the "Defense Counsel" placard.

Liang Xinhu repeatedly struck his gavel and called for order. When this had little effect, the retained yamen runners—now all police—simultaneously shouted for court decorum, finally suppressing the clamor.

"Bring in the suspects!"

Following the order, White Horse Battalion soldiers escorted the prisoners in one by one through a side door, lining them up behind the defendant's railing.

The prisoners wore neither shackles nor fetters, nor were they made to kneel—they simply stood. This was no novelty; Guangzhou residents who'd seen Australian trials knew this was their custom. But these evidently evil-to-the-core villains were not called "criminals" but "suspects"—this puzzled the spectators.

Zeng Juan, however, knew that according to Australian law, until a court pronounced them guilty, they were called "suspects" rather than the definitive "criminals." Though from his observations of Australian judicial practice, the distinction between "suspects," "criminals," and "criminal elements" wasn't always particularly clear. But in court and in documents, they were fastidiously precise about such terminology.

Today's defendants were the principal perpetrators of the child-harvesting case, including Wu Zhiqi and Fu Wen. Each was flanked by two White Horse Battalion soldiers.

"The Great Song Australian Provisional Court of Guangzhou City. Defendants Wu Zhiqi, Fu Wen, and eleven others are charged with kidnapping and murder. The court is now in open session." After Liang Xinhu declared the proceedings open, he first had each defendant state their names and other information. Those outside also heard through the loudspeakers that the prisoners had been brought in, immediately stirring into commotion. Particularly agitated was a group of victims' families dressed in white mourning clothes gathered outside the venue, who now prostrated themselves in loud wailing. Some grew hysterical, eyes reddened, and tried to rush inside. Hired monks and Daoists were also outside chanting sutras, making the scene extraordinarily lively.

Police and National Army had already been notified: victims' families could do whatever they wanted outside the venue as long as they didn't disturb order, but they absolutely must not storm the court. In Ming and Qing court trials, incidents of "enraged mobs beating defendants to death on the spot" were not uncommon. Setting aside the fact that such deaths would inevitably raise legal issues, with so many people present, any chaos would certainly cause a stampede. So National Army soldiers tightly surrounded them, preventing any extreme actions.

Liang Xinhu read out the rights and obligations of the defendants. Shen Ruiming exchanged a glance with Liang Xinhu, rose to his feet with ramrod-straight posture, every bit the image of righteous conviction. He took up the documents and read loudly: "The Special Dispatch Prosecutor's Office of the Great Song Australian Provisional Guangzhou City hereby brings charges against defendants Wu Zhiqi, Fu Wen, and eleven others for kidnapping, enticing, murder, grave robbing, desecration of corpses, intentional injury resulting in death, fraud, practicing medicine without a license, manufacturing counterfeit drugs... Defendant Wu Zhiqi, in conspiracy with defendant Fu Wen... on a certain day of a certain month of 1635, at the vicinity of Xiaoshi Village outside Guangzhou City, kidnapped victim surnamed Fan; on a certain day of a certain month of 1635..."

This gang's crimes were beyond enumeration. The charges alone numbered in the dozens, and the indictment ran to over a hundred pages. Simply reading the entire indictment took over two hours.

Though it took considerable time, the case details were so horrifying that even though many had already received case information through various channels, most—whether the Elders in the gallery or the naturalized citizens and common people inside and outside the courthouse—were hearing the complete picture for the first time. Anger spread through the crowd. Had spectators not been strictly prohibited from bringing any throwable objects into the court, these thirteen suspects would probably have been bloodied by now.

"The following is the presentation of evidence."

To make this an "ironclad case" and fully embody the investigative and trial philosophy of "determining cases based on evidence," the entire trial team had invested considerable thought into the evidence presentation phase. Besides summoning fifteen key witnesses, they also read aloud testimony materials from approximately nineteen other individuals. Just the witness questioning and testimony reading consumed the entire morning. Though it was December weather, standing in the crowded room for several hours of presentations had left Shen Ruiming's clothes under his judicial robe completely soaked with sweat.

Nevertheless, such a thorough prosecution was a rare experience for Shen Ruiming. He was even becoming intoxicated by his own performance. He paced confidently through the courtroom, now passionately vehement, now low and melancholy, now erupting in righteous fury to directly rebuke the suspects, now delivering extended interior monologues about law and justice. The spectators below watched entranced, periodically erupting in applause and cheers. Liang Xinhu secretly wondered: Had Shen Ruiming perhaps trained as a stage actor?

By the time the witness testimony phase concluded, it was well past lunchtime. Liang Xinhu announced a recess, with court to resume at 1 PM.

Though the court had recessed, the spectating crowds refused to leave—who knew if they could squeeze back in later? This only benefited the vendors, who sold various snacks and refreshments.

Back in the rest room, Shen Ruiming had stripped down to just his shorts—even the waistband of which was soaked through. Liang Xinhu remarked: "You certainly gave it your all! You were performing The Caine Mutiny!"

Still intoxicated by the pleasure of his oration, Shen Ruiming enjoyed having a maidservant wipe his back while saying: "This is an excellent opportunity for us to spread legal education!"

He rose, threw on a dressing gown, took a sip of kvass, his tone and expression highly animated. "What is the modern legal system, what is feudal superstition—this is precisely the opportunity to demonstrate to everyone."

When the afternoon trial resumed, it was still the evidence presentation phase. With special approval from the Guangzhou Municipal Government, a projector was used to display crime scene photographs in the courtroom.

For the vast majority present, even though they'd heard many details, even though gruesome scenes were commonplace in this timeline, the actual crime scene photographs still sent chills down many spines. Accompanied by Shen Ruiming's somber narration, it was as if a frigid wind swept through the courtroom.