The morning sun cast long, sharp shadows across the manicured lawn of the Lin estate, but inside, the air was thick with a suffocating tension.
**Madam Vivian** sat in the living room, her usually impeccable posture rigid. She had just hung up the phone with **Deputy Chief Smith**, and her face was a mask of pale fury.
"What happened?" **Vera** asked, her voice trembling as she sensed the shift in the atmosphere. "Is it about the lawsuit?"
"**Vane** is in the hospital," Vivian said, her voice low and dangerous. "He was on his way to the courthouse this morning. His car's brakes failed at an intersection. Two trucks hit him from both sides."
Vera gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. "An accident?"
"Accident?" Vivian let out a cold, humorless laugh. "The brake lines were cut. It was a warning, Vera. Someone is telling us that they can touch anyone, anywhere."
Vera's eyes widened in horror. "Is it... is it Ren? Or the people behind her?"
"It doesn't matter," Vivian stood up, smoothing her skirt with aggressive swipes of her hands. "Violence is the tool of thugs. The law is the tool of the elite. Ren might have some gangster friends who can cut brake lines, but in a courtroom? She is nothing. I have already made calls. No lawyer in Moon City dares to represent her against the Vane family today."
Vivian grabbed her purse, her eyes flashing with a vindictive light. "Let's go. I want to see the look on her face when the judge sentences her to prison."
***
While the Lin family prepared for war, **Ren** was sitting in the school infirmary, wrapped in a blanket of calm.
The smell of herbal medicine and savory rice porridge filled the small room. **Alpha Juan** stood by the counter, Ladle in hand, serving a bowl of congee. He added a few goji berries on top—a ridiculous garnish for a man who could kill with a single look, but he did it with serious concentration.
"Eat," Juan said, placing the bowl in front of Ren.
Ren was playing with her phone with her left hand, her right hand resting on the table, freshly bandaged. "I'm not hungry."
"Eat," Juan repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Ren sighed and picked up the spoon. The porridge was warm, settling the uneasy feeling in her stomach. She ate in silence, while Juan leaned against the desk, watching her. His gaze was heavy, lingering on her injured hand.
"Did you take your medicine?" Juan asked.
"Yes, mom," Ren rolled her eyes.
Juan reached out and flicked her forehead. "Don't be cheeky. **Attorney Qi** landed an hour ago. He's at the courthouse now."
Ren paused, the spoon hovering near her mouth. "You really sent him? Isn't that overkill? It's just a small assault case."
"It's not about the case," Juan said, his eyes darkening. "It's about sending a message. Anyone who touches you loses a hand. Anyone who tries to use the law against you loses their dignity."
He checked his watch. "It's 8:55 AM. The show is about to start."
***
The Moon City Courthouse was a gray, imposing building that smelled of dust and despair.
In Courtroom 3, the atmosphere was stifling. The gallery was packed with curious onlookers, reporters, and the families involved.
**Vera** sat in the front row, wringing her hands. The empty table for the plaintiff—Ren's side—was glaringly vacant. Ren hadn't shown up. And more importantly, no lawyer had shown up.
Across the aisle, the Vane family's lawyer, a middle-aged man with a shark-like grin named **Mr. Wu**, was arranging his files. He looked confident. He knew, like everyone else, that the Vane family had influence.
"See?" Madam Vivian whispered to Vera, a smug smile playing on her lips. "She didn't come. She knows she's lost. The court will issue a default judgment."
"But... she's my daughter," Vera whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "If she goes to jail..."
"She brought this on herself," Vivian hissed.
The bailiff stood up. "All rise."
The judge entered, looking stern. He glanced at the empty plaintiff's table and frowned. "Is the plaintiff or their legal representative present?"
Silence filled the room. Mr. Wu stood up, buttoning his jacket. "Your Honor, it seems the plaintiff has abandoned the case. I move for a dismissal and a counter-suit for malicious prosecution."
Vera closed her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. It was over.
*Creak.*
The heavy oak doors at the back of the courtroom groaned open.
The sound was loud in the silent room. Every head turned.
A man walked in.
He was young, perhaps in his late twenties, wearing a navy blue suit that was tailored to perfection. He carried a leather briefcase and walked with a relaxed, elegant stride that seemed to slow down time. He didn't look like he was rushing; he looked like he owned the building.
He checked the Patek Philippe watch on his wrist and smiled—a polite, professional, yet terrifyingly distant smile.
"I apologize for the delay," his voice was smooth, carrying effortlessly to the judge's bench. "I am the legal representative for Miss Ren. It is exactly 9:00 AM. I believe I am on time."
The courtroom erupted in whispers. Who was this man? He didn't look like a local lawyer. He looked like a movie star playing a lawyer.
He walked to the plaintiff's table, set down his briefcase, and bowed slightly to the judge. "Shall we begin?"
***
The trial that followed was not a battle. It was a massacre.
Mr. Wu, the Vane family lawyer, started aggressively. He painted Vane as a victim, a promising student whose future was ruined by a violent delinquent. He cited statutes about "excessive defense" and "grievous bodily harm."
Vera watched nervously. The young lawyer on Ren's side didn't object. He didn't interrupt. He just sat there, examining his fingernails, looking utterly bored.
"Is he asleep?" Vera whispered frantically to Vivian. "Why isn't he saying anything?"
Vivian frowned. She felt a strange unease. The young man's composure was unnatural.
Finally, Mr. Wu finished his opening statement, sweating slightly from the exertion. "The defense rests."
The young lawyer stood up. He didn't need notes. He didn't need to shout.
"Your Honor," he began, his voice calm. "I have three points to address regarding the defendant's claims."
"First," he raised a slender finger. "According to Article 20 of the Penal Code, actions taken to prevent murder, robbery, rape, kidnapping, or other violent crimes that seriously endanger personal safety do not constitute excessive defense. The defendant, Vane, led twelve armed men to corner a minor female in a dead-end alley. This is defined as kidnapping and gang violence. Therefore, my client's actions were entirely within the scope of justifiable defense."
"Second," he raised a second finger, his eyes locking onto Mr. Wu, causing the older lawyer to flinch. "The defendant claims my client inflicted grievous harm. However, the medical report shows my client sustained a severe laceration to her right hand—a hand valued at fifty million dollars due to her status as a violin prodigy. The economic loss alone outweighs the defendant's medical bills by a factor of one hundred."
"Third," he smiled, a cold, predatory smile. "We have surveillance footage from the alleyway, recovered by my team this morning, which clearly shows the defendant initiating the attack with a knife. I have submitted this evidence to the clerk."
The courtroom went dead silent.
Mr. Wu turned pale. "Footage? But... the cameras were broken..."
"We fixed them," the young lawyer said simply.
In less than twenty minutes, he had dismantled the entire defense. He spoke with a precision and authority that made the seasoned local lawyer look like an amateur.
The judge nodded, clearly impressed. "The court will take a recess to review the new evidence."
As the judge left, Mr. Wu collapsed into his chair, wiping sweat from his forehead. He turned to the young man. "Who... who are you? I've never seen you in Moon City."
The young lawyer closed his briefcase. He turned, looking past Mr. Wu, straight at Madam Vivian in the gallery.
"Capital. Junfan Law Firm," he said softly. "**Qi Chengjun**."
*Crash.*
Madam Vivian's purse fell to the floor. Her face drained of all blood, leaving her looking like a corpse.
**Qi Chengjun.**
The name echoed in her mind like a thunderclap. The "Undefeated King" of the Capital. The legal advisor to the central government. The man the Shen family—her husband's powerful family—had tried and failed to hire for three years.
He was here? For a high school fight?
Vivian looked at the young man, terror clawing at her throat. She realized then that she hadn't just kicked a steel plate; she had kicked a nuclear bomb.
***
That evening, the sun set in a blaze of orange and purple.
Ren took a taxi to the hospital. She pulled her cap low over her eyes, hiding her face. She was tired of people. She just wanted to see **Grandma**.
When she arrived at the inpatient department, she saw them.
Vera and Madam Vivian stood at the payment counter. They looked defeated, yet they were still trying to cling to some semblance of control.
"Ren," Vera called out, her voice shaky. She tried to grab Ren's hand, but Ren stepped sideways, avoiding the touch.
Madam Vivian straightened her back, trying to regain her composure. She couldn't accept that she had lost to a teenager.
"Ren," Vivian said, her voice stiff. "I heard about the court case. You were lucky to find a good lawyer. But don't think this is over. Your grandmother's medical bills are due. The Lin family has been paying for everything. If you want us to continue... you need to show some respect."
It was a power play. A desperate attempt to use money to force submission.
Ren stopped. She looked at Vivian, then at Vera. Her eyes were dark pools of exhaustion and disappointment.
"You really don't get it, do you?" Ren asked quietly. "You think money is the only leash you have on me."
"It's a reality," Vivian said coldly. "VIP wards cost money. Imported medicine costs money. Can you afford it?"
Ren didn't answer. She walked past them to the glass window of the payment counter.
"Room 1102," Ren said to the nurse.
"One moment," the nurse typed on the computer. "There is an outstanding balance of twenty-eight thousand. And a suggested deposit of fifty thousand for the next month."
Vivian smirked. "See? Without the Lin family..."
Ren reached into her pocket. She didn't pull out the card the Vane family gave her. She didn't pull out a card from Juan.
She pulled out a sleek, matte black card with a gold geometric pattern on it. It was the salary card from **Agency 129**, an account that received dividends from global intelligence trading.
"Deposit," Ren said.
"How much?" the nurse asked, eyeing the strange card.
"Five hundred thousand," Ren said flatly. "Pay for the whole year. I don't want to be disturbed by billing notices again."
"Five... five hundred thousand?" The nurse stammered.
"Swipe it," Ren commanded.
*Beep.*
The machine processed the transaction instantly. Approved.
Ren took the receipt and the card. She turned slowly to face Vivian and Vera. Vivian's jaw was unhinged. Vera looked like she was about to faint.
"You can keep your money," Ren said, her voice devoid of emotion. "And you can keep your charity. From now on, don't mention the Lin family in front of me. I find it embarrassing."
She walked away, heading toward the elevator, leaving the two women standing in the middle of the lobby, surrounded by the ruins of their own arrogance.
**[Chapter 32 End]**