Daily Intelligence: Forced to Save the Beautiful President at the Beginning

187: Chapter 188 My Witness is Your FatherChen Mo returned to the prosecution bench, picked up a document, and his voice spread through the microphone to every corner of the courtroom: ”Presiding Judge, members of the jury, based on the above evidence, we can clearly see that Li Yong is a quack without medical qualifications or moral bottom lines—he took advantage of patients’ trust to sell toxic herbs, defrauded them of money, delayed treatment, and caused patient deaths; after the matter was exposed, he even instructed others to threaten witnesses in an attempt to cover up his crimes!”

His tone suddenly became severe as he pointed his finger at Li Yong in the defendant’s seat: ”If such a person is not severely punished, it is not only a desecration of the deceased but also a trampling of the medical order! I request the court to sentence Li Yong to ten years in prison according to the law, impose a fine of one million yuan, confiscate his illegal gains, and ban him for life from engaging in medical-related industries!”

His closing statement was powerful and decisive, without any hesitation, as if Li Yong’s crimes were already set in stone and beyond any dispute. A brief silence fell over the courtroom, with only the hum of the live-streaming equipment echoing in the air. The villagers in the gallery turned pale, not knowing how to refute these ”ironclad” accusations.

Wang Jingdong’s hand holding the pen tightened, his fingertips turning white—Chen Mo’s professionalism far exceeded his expectations. Not only was the chain of evidence ”complete,” but he was also skilled at controlling the rhythm of the trial, even using the ”threatening witnesses” claim to label the defense as ”violently covering up the truth,” putting them on the defensive.

Zhang Fan sat in the first row of the gallery, his brow slightly furrowed, his gaze falling on the ”Detection Report” on the large screen as his fingers tapped lightly on his knee. He remembered the system’s previous prompt that the Tianming Group was skilled at forging ”official documents.” The official seal on this Detection Report might have come from the same person who forged Wang Tianhua’s ”Consultation Opinion.” But without evidence now, he could only wait for the cross-examination phase to strike back.

Li Yong sat in the defendant’s seat, looking at Chen Mo calmly, with no anger in his eyes, only a faint trace of mockery. He had practiced medicine for decades and saved more people than he could count; these forged pieces of evidence and false testimonies were, in his eyes, nothing more than the performance of a clown. He believed in Zhang Fan, he believed in Wang Jingdong, and even more, he believed that the truth would not be covered up forever.

The Presiding Judge looked toward the defense bench and said in a steady voice, ”The prosecution’s statement is complete. Defense, please proceed with cross-examination and defense.”

Everyone’s eyes were focused on Wang Jingdong—facing the ”seamless” chain of evidence presented by Chen Mo and the public opinion already biased toward the prosecution, could the defense still produce evidence for a turnaround?

The air in the courtroom remained frozen in Chen Mo’s ”righteous” accusations. The villagers in the gallery clenched their fists but had no way to argue against the prosecution’s ”ironclad evidence.” In the live-stream comments, messages calling for ”severe punishment of the quack” were still flooding the screen, and the occasional voice saying ”wait for the defense to speak” was quickly drowned out by negative emotions.

Just then, Wang Jingdong slowly stood up. He didn’t rush to refute like Chen Mo; instead, he raised his hand to straighten his suit cuffs, a faint smile even playing on his face.

He walked to the center of the courtroom, his gaze sweeping across the prosecution bench before finally landing on Zhang Cheng, the unscrupulous local lawyer hired by the Wang family. Zhang Cheng was leaning back in his chair, his fingers unconsciously tapping the table, his eyes full of pride, clearly feeling that the trial was already won.

”Lawyer Chen’s statement was very exciting, with clear logic and ’detailed’ evidence,” Wang Jingdong’s voice spread through the microphone, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. ”Unfortunately, no matter how exquisite a lie is, it cannot withstand the pounding of the truth. Now, I request to summon the first defense witness for this case. Let us see what the actual facts are.”

He turned and nodded slightly to the Presiding Judge: ”Presiding Judge, I request that the witness Zhang Jianguo be summoned to court.”

”Granted,” the Presiding Judge struck the gavel.

As soon as the bailiff’s voice fell, Zhang Cheng’s face on the prosecution bench suddenly turned deathly pale—Zhang Jianguo, this name was a taboo etched into his bones; that was his biological father who had been bedridden and paralyzed for ten years! He suddenly sat up straight, staring intently at the courtroom entrance, his hands clenched until his knuckles turned white, even forgetting to breathe.

Everyone’s gaze followed his line of sight. The courtroom doors were pushed open, and a white-haired, wrinkled old man slowly walked in, supported by a bailiff. He wore a faded blue Mao suit, his trouser legs appearing somewhat bulky due to years of paralysis, and his right leg leaned on a smooth wooden cane. Every step was somewhat stumbling, yet he possessed a stubborn uprightness.

The moment the old man sat down at the witness stand and raised his head, Zhang Cheng’s pupils suddenly contracted. That face, covered in the ravages of time, though appearing older than in his memory, was undoubtedly his father, Zhang Jianguo! How could he be here? Who brought him?!

”Witness, please state your name, age, occupation, and connection to this case,” the Presiding Judge’s voice broke through Zhang Cheng’s shock.

The old man’s hand holding the cane trembled slightly, but he still answered clearly: ”My name is Zhang Jianguo. I am 68 years old. I used to be a worker at the Suburban Machinery Factory, but now... I am unemployed. My connection to this case is that Doctor Li is my savior.”

”Savior?” Chen Mo immediately seized the opportunity to retort, his tone carrying a hint of contempt. ”Witness, according to our understanding, you have been bedridden for ten years due to ’lower limb paralysis caused by a lumbar fracture.’ May I ask how Li Yong ’saved’ you? Was it with his herbs ’containing prohibited ingredients’ or his ’treatment-delaying’ acupuncture?”

Zhang Jianguo ignored his provocation. He simply lifted his right leg slowly, moved his ankle slightly, then leaned on his cane against the ground and slowly stood up—although his movements were still a bit stiff, he indeed stood straight and even shuffled forward two steps!

A collective gasp instantly filled the courtroom, and the villagers in the gallery couldn’t help but cry out: ”Grandpa Zhang? You can walk?!”

Zhang Jianguo turned around, his gaze sweeping the room before finally landing on the pale-faced Zhang Cheng, his voice carrying a trace of imperceptible heartache: ”Ten years ago, I broke my back. I had three surgeries in big hospitals, spent all the family’s savings, but still couldn’t stand up. The doctors said I could only lie in bed for the rest of my life. My wife was so worried she cried every day, and I even thought about dying. It wasn’t until three years ago that a neighbor said there was a Doctor Li in the outskirts of town who was very good at acupuncture and told me to give it a try.”

He paused, tears welling in his eyes, and his voice became choked with emotion: ”The first time Doctor Li came to my house and saw how destitute we were, he didn’t even mention a consultation fee. He just said, ’Old man, I’ll try; if I can’t cure you, I won’t take any money.’ From that day on, he came every morning at five o’clock to give me acupuncture. After the needles, he would help massage my legs and teach me rehabilitation exercises. No matter if it was windy or raining, he never missed a day.”