Chapter 29.1

Ye Sibei kept staring at Meng Xin, almost being dragged out of the courtroom by the staff.

After leaving, she sat in the witness room, starting another round of waiting.

But this time, fear began to creep in, and she started trembling because she understood what Meng Xin was trying to prove.

While Ye Sibei waited, Qin Nan and Zhang Yong continued chatting in the hallway.

“When I first realized the victim was her, I actually resented her,” Qin Nan said, smoking a cigarette. He gazed out at the vast square, his voice somewhat distant. “I thought she was too weak. To be bullied like that and not even make a sound. Why didn’t she call the police? What was she afraid of?”

“I get it,” Zhang Yong chuckled, “I used to think like that when I first became a police officer.”

“Luckily, I heard what she said in the video. I realized she might have suffered things I couldn’t even imagine. That’s when I thought I should try to understand her better. Whether she was weak or not, I needed to show more compassion. I couldn’t just keep telling her to be strong, to work harder, while doing nothing myself. So I didn’t show her my frustration.”

“And later?” Zhang Yong asked.

Qin Nan took a drag of his cigarette, looking a bit weary. “Later, as things went on, I realized that she didn’t avoid calling the police because she was weak. It was because I was ignorant.”

Qin Nan tilted his head back slightly, gazing at the overcast sky. “I had no idea what lay ahead.”

“After experiencing all this with her—being talked about, seeing all the nonsense online, being advised against going forward, and now sitting here nervously, wondering if we’ll win—I’ve realized,” Qin Nan gave a bitter laugh, “If I had known the future would turn out like this, I might not have had the courage to call the police either.”

“But she knew this could happen,” Qin Nan paused, struggling to control his tone, “and yet, she still called the police.”

“Do you regret it?” Zhang Yong glanced at him, but Qin Nan didn’t respond.

He didn’t know.

He could firmly tell Ye Sibei not to regret it, only because he knew she had no way out anymore.

But if he asked himself honestly whether he regretted it or not, he didn’t know.

He wasn’t a saint, nor even a particularly great person. He had his own fears, cowardice, and insecurities. But all of that, he never wanted Ye Sibei to see.

“Sometimes I wonder,” Qin Nan’s voice became hoarse, “what’s the point of holding on?”

“If we lose this case,” Qin Nan turned to look at Zhang Yong, “what was the value of everything we’ve been through?”

Zhang Yong didn’t say anything. He watched as the clouds grew heavier.

“There was a case once,” Zhang Yong suddenly started talking about something unrelated. He took a deep breath before explaining in a calm tone: “This guy committed crimes from 1993 all the way to 2009. During that time, he carried out 91 robberies, 23 thefts, and raped over a hundred women. You know why he was so bold?”

“Why?”

“He told his lawyer,” Zhang Yong said with a mocking smile, his anger barely contained, “that during his crimes, no one ever resisted, and no one ever reported it. Think about it—if everyone stays silent in the face of a criminal and blames the victims, would these perpetrators ever be afraid?”

“No, they wouldn’t.” Zhang Yong leaned closer to Qin Nan, speaking firmly, “You can’t expect bad people to suddenly wake up, repent, and put down their knives. If they aren’t restrained, they’ll just act with impunity.”

“Ye Sibei reported it. She stood her ground,” Zhang Yong said, looking at Qin Nan. “That’s the biggest deterrent to those who think they can commit crimes in the shadows without consequences.”

“What you’re doing isn’t meaningless. Justice should never be absent, even though,” Zhang Yong hesitated, struggling to speak, “the road to it might not be easy.”

“I’m Zhao Chuchu, an employee in the sales department of Fuqiang Realty.”

When Zhao Chuchu took the stand, Ye Nianwen felt slightly reassured.

He thought her testimony would favor Ye Sibei.

He watched Zhao Chuchu lower her head as she recounted the events of that night. When she finished, Meng Xin stood up once more to question her.

“Your fiancé is Ye Sibei’s brother, correct?”

“Yes.”

Zhao Chuchu nodded, and Meng Xin continued, “Were you drunk that night?”

If she was drunk, her testimony would lose credibility. Zhao Chuchu decisively shook her head. “No.”

Meng Xin nodded and continued, “Was Ye Sibei drunk that night?”

“She was.”

“How drunk was she? Could she still recognize people?”

“She could recognize people, and she kept talking.”

Zhao Chuchu responded truthfully.

“Your testimony says that when you parted ways, she was disoriented. How disoriented was she?”

Zhao Chuchu listened to Meng Xin’s question, feeling dazed.

At that moment, her mind was filled with the online accusations against her.

“Ye Sibei had no awareness, and she still left her in the car. What kind of person is she?”

“Trash, she must have done it on purpose, right?”

…

She couldn’t have left an unconscious Ye Sibei in the car, not when Ye Sibei trusted her so much.

If something had happened to Ye Sibei because of her, she would have to take responsibility for it.

At the moment when she had to answer Meng Xin’s question, she realized clearly that between her and Ye Sibei, only one could be at fault.

Either she admitted to leaving a disoriented Ye Sibei in the car, proving Ye Sibei’s innocence but facing public condemnation herself.

Or she denied that Ye Sibei was disoriented, protecting herself but risking Ye Sibei losing the case.

She didn’t dare to answer. A battle raged inside her, with many voices echoing in her mind. Meng Xin observed her closely and called again, “Zhao Chuchu?”

“Zhao Chuchu,” the judge, noticing her prolonged silence, asked with concern, “Are you feeling unwell?”

Zhao Chuchu closed her eyes and made a decision. Her original plan shattered in that moment.

She had already done enough for Ye Sibei.

She told herself that she had lost her job because of Ye Sibei, had endured public humiliation and scorn for her. She had her own life. She didn’t have the courage—or the desire—to take on the world’s accusations and ridicule for Ye Sibei’s sake.

“I’m recalling the events.”

Zhao Chuchu opened her eyes and looked up at Meng Xin. “The situation at that time, I don’t remember very clearly now. All I recall is that she was talking nonsense.”

“Could she recognize people?”

“Yes, she could recognize people. She was just saying things she normally wouldn’t say, but her logic was clear, and she could still make phone calls.” Zhao Chuchu lowered her head. “That’s why I left her in the car, and we agreed that she’d call me when she got home.”

She could recognize people and make phone calls, meaning that when Zhao Chuchu and Ye Sibei parted ways, Ye Sibei was conscious.

This was extremely unfavorable to Ye Sibei, especially since the testimony came from a friend who should have been on her side, which made it even more powerful.

Ye Nianwen stared at Zhao Chuchu, his breath heavy. Zhao Chuchu avoided his gaze entirely, while the prosecutor frowned.

“Did you feel that her level of drunkenness increased throughout the night?” Meng Xin continued to ask.

“No,” Zhao Chuchu, having made up her mind, answered smoothly. “After she vomited, I helped her sit down. She was a bit excited, kept talking, but her condition didn’t worsen.”

“Is that her usual state after drinking?”

“Yes.”

“How much can she normally drink?”

“Around 100 milliliters.”

“How much did she drink that night?”

“Less than 100 milliliters.”

“So, in fact, this wasn’t an amount that would cause her to completely lose consciousness?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then,” Meng Xin asked the final question, “was it you who told her that carrying a condom could increase her chances of survival in a rape?”

Upon hearing this, Zhao Chuchu fell silent.

She had indeed said this to Ye Sibei. Only she and Ye Sibei knew this. Meng Xin must have heard it from Ye Sibei.

Ye Sibei wasn’t unaware of the recent negative comments about Zhao Chuchu online. She knew what Zhao Chuchu had been through. She also knew how much damage this statement could do to Zhao Chuchu’s reputation if it became public knowledge.

Yet, Ye Sibei had still told them.

Zhao Chuchu felt like she and Ye Sibei were two small animals trapped in a narrow cage, forced into a situation where only one could survive.

So, they betrayed each other to protect their own interests.

Zhao Chuchu laughed, tears welling up in her eyes.

“No.”

She hoarsely replied, “I never said that.”

Ye Nianwen’s hand holding the pen trembled slightly. He stared at Zhao Chuchu, unable to believe that this was her final testimony.

There was nothing left to ask. Meng Xin nodded, signaling that he had finished. After he sat down, the prosecutor requested to question the witness.

“When you made your initial statement, you clearly said that when you left the car, Ye Sibei was disoriented. Why are you now saying that she could recognize people and make clear phone calls?”

“I thought being unable to stop talking meant she was disoriented.”

“Then what do you mean by ‘talking nonsense’ exactly?”

“She was saying things she normally wouldn’t talk about, like her family situation, how she was feeling inside, things like that.”

The prosecutor nodded, frowning as he sat back down.