Justice System: I Litigate for the Whole City

Chapter 155 : That Signature at 6:20

”Witness Lin Qi.” The presiding judge closed the two-page application and set it against the case file. ”You will answer what the court asks, and only what the court asks. If the question is directed at you, speak. If not, do not. Testimony must be truthful. False statements carry legal liability.”

”Understood.”

The court clerk placed a copy of the Witness Pledge in front of the witness stand. Lin Qi read it over, then picked up the pen from the counter. The cap hadnʼt been twisted open before; it took her two tries. After signing, she set the pen back where it had been and let her hands fall to her sides, not touching the phone lying face-down on the counter.

Shen Zhixia watched her from the plaintiffʼs bench. The zipper of her dark blue down jacket was pulled to the top, a sliver of gray sweater visible at the collar. She had walked in through that strip of light in the corridor, past Peng Weidong, past the defendantʼs bench, never once looking to either side.

”The plaintiff may question the witness,” the presiding judge said.

Shen Zhixia stood.

”Presiding Judge, the plaintiff has three matters.” She said, ”First: the night shift on December twenty-sixth of last year.”

She shifted half a step to the side so the witness wouldnʼt have to face the judgesʼ bench directly.

”Were you on duty that night?”

”I was.” Lin Qi said. ”I worked the night shift on the twenty-sixth. At 3:40, she passed.”

”You were present.”

”I was. The bleeding wouldnʼt stop.”

She paused.

”The signatures on those rescue record pages are mine. I wonʼt avoid that.”

”I didnʼt ask about that.” Shen Zhixia said. ”The plaintiff is asking about 6:20.”

At the plaintiffʼs bench, Peng Weidongʼs hands left his knees and pressed against the edge of his chair. He didnʼt look up. In the last row of the gallery, Ma Jianjunʼs helmet sat by his feet, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the witness stand.

”December twenty-seventh of last year, 6:20 in the morning.” Shen Zhixia pulled a photocopy from a hardcover folder and asked the clerk to pass it to the witness. ”That Autopsy Notice—the signature field reads Chen Xiaomanʼs own name. The recorded time of signing is 6:20.”

She paused a beat.

”That signature. Did you write it?”

”No.”

”At 6:20, where were you?”

”On shift.”

”If you were on shift, why wasnʼt that signature yours?”

”The pen never reached my hand.” Lin Qi said. ”And that line isnʼt my handwriting.”

”Who handed that paper out? Who spoke with the family?”

”I donʼt know.”

”What about the ʼNotifying Partyʼs Signatureʼ field?”

”It was blank.” Lin Qi smoothed the page flat on the counter. ”From the moment she was admitted until she passed, that field stayed blank.”

[Thud. The field she said she didnʼt know about—still blank.]

”This page is part of the case file.” Shen Zhixia said. ”Please have the witness point out the ʼNotifying Partyʼs Signatureʼ field.”

Lin Qi looked down, found the line, and pressed her finger to the empty space. Her nails were cut short, and the chilblain on her knuckle still hadnʼt fully healed. The clerk noted this down, the keyboard clicking twice in the quiet courtroom.

Her voice had gone a little hoarse by now. The clerk stood and set half a glass of water on the corner of the counter. She didnʼt drink it.

”Third: January twenty-eighth of this year.”

Shen Zhixia swapped in a new page.

”In the materials submitted to the district, thereʼs a page titled ʼSelf-Review Statement on Changes to Medical Records.ʼ It bears your name and is dated the twenty-eighth. Is that your handwriting?”

”No.”

”On the twenty-eighth, where were you?”

”In Tongling. My hometown.”

”What time did you arrive?”

”4:05 AM on the twenty-eighth.”

”You remember it that precisely.”

”The clock in the waiting room.” Lin Qi said. ”I checked it twice. First time, 4:05. Second time, 5:30, waiting for the first bus back to town.”

[Thud. She remembers the clock times, so the dates on paper canʼt fool her.]

”At 7:20 that evening, we spoke on the phone.”

”We did. Twenty minutes.”

”Who wrote that name for you?”

”I donʼt know.”

Shen Zhixia didnʼt press further. She returned the photocopy to the folder and asked her final question: ”On the last page of the transcribed nursing records, thereʼs another ʼLin Qi.ʼ Did you write that one?”

”Thatʼs not my handwriting.”

”When did you see that page?”

”The morning of January fifth.” Lin Qi said. ”The long table by the window in the Medical Affairs Office. Printed pages spread out, four lines to a page, signature fields blank. One person handed me the paper, another handed me a pen—both their badges were flipped over. They told me to add a few words after the last sentence. I said, I canʼt sign this.”

”The plaintiff has no further questions.”

Shen Zhixia sat down. He Xiufen half-tightened the lid of the thermos in front of her and nudged it toward her hand.

The presiding judge took off his glasses, wiped the left temple arm—the one wrapped in white thread—with his sleeve, and put them back on.

”The defendant may question the witness.”

Lu Jibai stood. He didnʼt pick up those three pages. Both hands braced on the edge of the table, he asked slowly.

”Witness, a few matters.”

”Your practice certificate is currently suspended. The hospital has reported to the District Health Commission recommending revocation. You donʼt deny this.”

”I donʼt deny it.”

”You said you arrived in Tongling at 4:05 AM on the twenty-eighth.”

”Yes.”

”You took the overnight bus on the twenty-seventh.”

”Yes.”

”What time did you board?”

”10:20. Long-Distance Bus Station.”

”Did you get a seat?”

”No. I stood.”

”After you arrived.”

”I sat in the waiting room. At 5:30, I took the first bus back to town.”

”Your ticket?”

”I threw it away.”

”Where?”

”On the bus. Tore it up and stuffed it in the seat-back pouch.”

”When did you return to Jiangzhou?”

”Noon on January thirty-first.”

Lu Jibai finished these questions and paused for two seconds.

”Witness, what does this round trip have to do with what youʼve said today?”

”It does.” Lin Qi said. ”On the twenty-eighth, I was in Tongling. That name on that paper in Chengbei—I didnʼt write it.”

At the defendantʼs bench, Director Xuʼs head tilted an inch toward Lu Jibai. He slid a slip of paper across from under the table. Lu Jibai glanced down, folded it in half, and tucked it under his folder.

When he looked back up, he asked the third matter.

”The hospital took disciplinary action against you.” He said. ”Could it be that what youʼve said today is influenced by that—that youʼre speaking against the hospital because you were disciplined?”

Lin Qi clasped her hands over her knees.

”I received the January twenty-seventh Disposition Decision. It states that the alterations to the medical records were done by me alone.” She said. ”What Iʼve said today and whatʼs written on that paper are two ends of the same thing. If Iʼd wanted to say more against them, I could have just signed my name that morning—January fifth. Done.”

Shen Zhixia stood.

”Presiding Judge, this question touches on the relationship between the witness and the defendant. The plaintiff asks the court to record it.” She said. ”The defendantʼs January twenty-seventh Disposition Decision pins the record alterations on this witness alone, and that same document states sheʼs been reported for revocation of her practice certificate. Itʼs not that thereʼs no interest between the witness and the defendant—the defendant hung that interest on her first.”

[Thud. He hung the interest on her. The paper too.]

The presiding judge wrote a line in the case file and lifted his pen.

”The defendant may continue.”

”One more.” Lu Jibai said. ”The witness says, ʼThat night on the thirtieth, it wasnʼt me.ʼ What is the basis for saying that in court today?”

”The shift schedule in the department group chat.” Lin Qi said. ”Sent at 10:04 AM on December twenty-seventh of last year. That image is still on my phone.”

Lu Jibai glanced at the phone lying face-down on the counter.

”I have no further questions.”

He sat down and straightened the folder. Director Xu leaned over and said something under his breath. Lu Jibai didnʼt respond.

Shen Zhixia ran through those questions in her mind. He hadnʼt gone after the witnessʼs testimony itself; heʼd asked about buses, clock times, dates—turning that journey from Chengbei to Tongling and back into the record, sentence by sentence. The slip of paper Director Xu had passed was still tucked under his folder. He hadnʼt read from it. The question heʼd asked had produced the answer ”that image is still on my phone”—and that sentence weighed more than any page in the plaintiffʼs folder.

”Presiding Judge, the defendantʼs other agent requests to question the witness.” Director Xu stood.

”Proceed.”

”Witness, on the morning of January fifth, when you refused to sign that paper—who told you not to sign it?”

”No one told me to sign it, and no one told me not to sign it.” Lin Qi said. ”I said, I canʼt sign this.”

”Before that, did the plaintiffʼs agent come looking for you?”

”She did. Three times, at the community clinic.”

”Three times.” Director Xu said. ”What did she ask?”

”She asked what I saw that night.” Lin Qi said. ”After I told her, she left.”

”Presiding Judge.” The presiding judge set down his pen. ”Defendantʼs agent, questions unrelated to the dispute need not be asked.”

Director Xu stood frozen for half a second, then sat back down.

”Presiding Judge, the plaintiff adds one point.” Shen Zhixia said. ”On the morning of January fifth, the witness did not sign that page. On the afternoon of January seventh, when that stack of hole-punched pages was returned to the Medical Records Room window, the signature fields were complete. These two statements are recorded in the on-site record dated February second; the plaintiffʼs agent signed it and read it aloud in the presence of witnesses.”

”Entered into the record.” The presiding judge said.

He moved the two-page Witness Testimony Application aside and looked toward the plaintiffʼs bench.

”Does the plaintiff have additional evidence to present in court?”

”Yes.” Shen Zhixia said. ”The plaintiffʼs third group of evidence: a mobile phone.”

The courtroom went quiet. In the first row of the gallery, Huang Weizhong pulled a pen from his coat pocket and laid it on the paper in front of him. He didnʼt write; he just rested his hand at the edge of the page.

”Proceed.”

”This phone is the one currently used by witness Lin Qi herself.” Shen Zhixia said. She closed the hardcover folder and held it against her arm—this item wasnʼt on any page. ”The plaintiff requests that the witness, in court, use this original device to open her departmentʼs WeChat group and bring up the shift schedule image sent at 10:04 AM on December twenty-seventh of last year.”

”Original device.” The presiding judge repeated.

”Original device.” Shen Zhixia said. ”No printing, no screenshots, no in-court transfers. The phone stays in the witnessʼs hands, screen facing the court; the clerk will record the time of every step from unlocking to opening the image. What the plaintiff asks the court to examine is not something the plaintiff produced. It is the image sent out by the defendantʼs own department—the slot for December thirtieth of last year, which originally bore this witnessʼs name and was later crossed out and replaced with someone elseʼs.”

At the defendantʼs bench, Lu Jibai rose.

”Presiding Judge. The defendant does not contest the witnessʼs testimony just now.” He said. ”Regarding this phone, the defendant requests that three items be recorded before the demonstration: the holder of the phone, the time of the last modification of these records, and whether the demonstration process is interrupted at any point. With all three recorded, the defendant has no objection to the demonstration itself.”

”Granted.” The presiding judge tapped his pen against the case file. ”The clerk will record the three items. Witness, please turn the phone face-up.”

Lin Qi placed her hand on the phone that had been lying face-down and turned it over. The screen lit up—her own lock screen, four digits. She lowered her head and entered them one by one.

At the defendantʼs bench, Director Xu pressed one finger against the edge of the table.