44: Chapter 44 Before the Testimony

Wednesday morning, Lin Yuan stood at the entrance of the old street outside the ruins.

He didn't go directly to the clinic, standing under the crooked pagoda tree at the intersection for a full ten minutes. The early autumn wind rolled a few yellowing leaves past his feet. Elderly people jogging with radios passed by, and the white steam from the breakfast stall mixed with the aroma of fried dough sticks, drifting across the sidewalk.

Everything was the same as it had been three months ago when he first walked into this street.

What was different was the printed document in his pocket.

A copy of the prospectus for that batch of green faith bonds from fifteen years ago. Page forty-seven, technical advisor recommendation letter. Signature column: Li Cian.

Lin Yuan folded the document and stuffed it into his inner pocket.

The clinic door didn't have a sign, and the old storm lantern was still extinguished. He raised his hand and knocked, his knuckles rapping against the mottled wooden board three times.

The door opened.

Dr. Li wasn't wearing that washed-out gray cloth gown today; she had changed into a dark blue button-up jacket, and her hair was combed more neatly than usual. She looked at Lin Yuan, her gaze lingering on his face for two seconds, then she stepped aside to clear the doorframe.

"Come in."

The consultation room was the same as ever. The medicine cabinet, the pulse pillow, that wooden chair. A potted plant whose name Lin Yuan didn't know sat on the windowsill, its leaves oily and bright, clearly well-cared for.

Dr. Li didn't sit in the wooden chair that had accompanied her for twenty years; instead, she dragged another folding chair from beside the cabinet and placed it opposite the pulse pillow.

"Sit."

Lin Yuan sat down.

Dr. Li sat down too. She looked at Lin Yuan, not asking "What did you find?" or "What brings you here today?" She simply looked at him, just as she had when taking his pulse for the first time three months ago—looking right through him.

Lin Yuan pulled the folded document from his inner pocket and placed it on the small table between them.

Cover side down.

"Fifteen years ago," he said, "Mo Feigong, in the name of the 'Earth-Vein Maintenance Foundation,' issued a batch of ten-year green faith bonds, raising 2.3 million standard faith units. It was promised to be used for repairing seventeen damaged Earth Vein nodes across the country."

Dr. Li's gaze fell on the back of the document cover, unmoving.

"When the ten years were up, the foundation was deregistered. Of the seventeen nodes, not a single one was repaired." Lin Yuan's voice was very flat. "All 2.3 million defaulted. Investors pursued for three years, with no recourse."

He flipped the document over.

Cover side up.

"Earth-Vein Maintenance Foundation First Batch Green Faith Bond Prospectus."

Dr. Li's gaze slowly shifted from the cover to Lin Yuan's face.

"Page forty-seven," Lin Yuan said.

He didn't turn the page. He didn't look at it himself either.

Dr. Li reached out. That hand was steady—a hand that had taken pulses for tens of thousands of people over twenty-one years—now opening her own signature from fifteen years ago as if opening a medical record filled out incorrectly by someone else.

She looked at it for a long time.

Lin Yuan didn't rush her.

The potted plant on the windowsill cast a faint shadow in the morning light. The sound of the oil pan from the distant breakfast stall came faintly, mixed with the light clinking of bicycle chains. This was the most ordinary Wednesday morning on this old street.

Dr. Li closed the prospectus.

"He didn't know," she said.

Lin Yuan knew who "he" was.

"He can find out," Lin Yuan said. "He didn't know fifteen years ago, but before the hearing ends in three days, he will know."

Dr. Li didn't speak.

"I didn't come to ask why you signed it," Lin Yuan said. "I know why you signed it."

She thought it was charity.

She thought her signature could make an "Earth Vein restoration plan" gain more trust, could give those withered spiritual energy nodes a better chance of being saved. She had thought the same thing twenty-one years ago when she signed the vein-locking nail agreement.

Mo Feigong used the same path to deceive her twice.

Dr. Li placed the prospectus back on the small table, her movements very light.

"The hearing in three days," she said, "do you need me to testify?"

Lin Yuan shook his head.

"I don't need you to appear in court," he said. "Your signature itself is a link in the chain of evidence. The committee won't summon you—unless Mo Feigong's lawyer requests a face-to-face confrontation."

Dr. Li's hand paused.

"Have you thought it over?" Lin Yuan asked. "If he requests a confrontation."

The consultation room was quiet for three seconds.

"The day he let me choose twenty-one years ago," Dr. Li said, "I thought that was the last time I would be weak in my life."

She lifted her eyes.

"For this signature fifteen years ago, I didn't take a single cent. I thought I was helping the Earth Veins, helping those people I couldn't cure, but who wouldn't be sick anymore once the Earth Veins were repaired."

"When I signed it, I was thinking about Luoxia Mountain."

Lin Yuan didn't respond.

"That year, the Luoxia Mountain Earth Spirit could barely hold on anymore." Dr. Li's voice was very soft. "The vein-locking nails had been in for six years, and the Earth Vein's vitality was draining three times faster than I expected. I couldn't do anything; I could only watch it wither bit by bit."

"Then someone came and said there was money, 2.3 million, specifically for repairing damaged Earth Vein nodes. They needed a qualified professional to sign in the technical advisor column."

"I signed it."

She paused.

"I didn't ask where the money came from."

Lin Yuan was silent.

He knew why she didn't ask. It wasn't because she was gullible, but because she wanted to believe too much. That vein-locking nail agreement twenty-one years ago had taught her one thing—if you don't ask, you don't have to know the answer. If you don't know the answer, you can continue to believe that there are good things in this world that don't require a price to be paid.

He was all too familiar with this kind of self-deception.

Three months ago, when he signed that godhood loan, he had folded Lin Wei's hospital bill into a tiny square and stuffed it into the innermost layer of his wallet. He told himself that as long as he signed it, his sister would be saved. As for what he would use to pay it back later, or what would happen if he couldn't—those were matters for later.

He knew what he was signing.

He just chose not to look.

"Wednesday at 3:00 PM," Lin Yuan began. "The committee hearing. I will make a statement; I won't call witnesses. Your name will appear on page seven of the evidence list, as a 'Related Party of the Green Bond Project Technical Advisor'."

"Forty-eight hours before the hearing, Mo Feigong's lawyer will receive a full copy of the evidence."

Dr. Li nodded slightly.

"He will see your signature," Lin Yuan said. "He will know that I submitted this evidence. He will know that you were deceived again fifteen years ago."

"He will laugh," Dr. Li's tone was devoid of fluctuation. "He laughed twenty-one years ago, too. He laughed at me for believing that I was there to repair the Earth Veins even after I had signed the agreement."

Lin Yuan didn't speak.

He stood up and walked over to the potted plant. The leaves shimmered with soft green in the morning light, and the soil was slightly damp, clearly just watered this morning.

"What is this called?" he asked.

Dr. Li took a look.

"Qilin tail. Easy to care for; no need to worry too much about it."

Lin Yuan nodded.

He turned around and pulled another document from his pocket.

Not a copy.

It was a printed, unsigned—standard format "Witness Testimony Commitment" from the Divine Realm Financial Regulatory Commission.

He placed the document next to the prospectus.

"I've already filled in the basic information for you," he said. "Whether you sign it or not is up to you."

Dr. Li looked at the commitment form.

The name column was printed with "Li Cian," the occupation column read "Spiritual Erosion Specialist," and the relationship to the case column—

The relationship to the case column was blank.

Lin Yuan had left it that way.

"If you sign it," he said, "you will appear in court for five minutes during the 'Witness Statement' segment. You won't need to answer cross-examination from the opposing lawyer, and you won't need to publicly recall that agreement from twenty-one years ago. You only need to confirm one thing."

"Confirm that your signature is genuine."

Dr. Li lowered her eyes.

The sun outside the window gradually rose, the light spot moving from the plant leaves to the edge of the small table, then slowly moving away.

"What about you?" she asked. "When you signed that gambling agreement, were you afraid?"

Lin Yuan didn't answer immediately.

"Afraid," he said. "My hands were shaking, and I couldn't hold the pen steady. Zhao Wuyong was sitting opposite me drinking coffee, and he looked at me three times."

"And after you signed it?"

"Even more afraid."

He paused.

"But after the fear, the things that need to be done must still be done."

Dr. Li looked at that blank relationship column.

For a long time.

She reached out and picked up the pen Lin Yuan had left by the small table.

"In the relationship column," she said, "write 'Signatory of the vein-locking nail Installation Agreement from twenty-one years ago'."

Lin Yuan didn't move.

"Write it," Dr. Li's voice was very soft. "I don't need you to leave me any leeway."

She put pen to paper.

Signed.

The position of that signature twenty-one years ago and the position today were separated by forty-seven pages of prospectus, fifteen years of default, and seven vein-locking nails still driven into the Earth Vein.

The tip of the pen paused on the paper for a moment.

Then she finished the last stroke.

Lin Yuan folded the commitment form and put it back into his inner pocket.

He walked to the door, his hand resting on the doorframe.

"On the day of the hearing," he said, "I might not win."

Dr. Li didn't turn back.

"I know."

"If I lose, Mo Feigong will get my godhood. He will also be able to reverse-trace the Earth Vein Arts you taught me."

"I know."

Lin Yuan was silent for a few seconds.

"If I win," he said, "that agreement from twenty-one years ago will be made public."

Dr. Li finally lifted her head.

"If you win," she said, "the vein-locking nails will be pulled out."

She looked at the potted Qilin tail, the sunlight falling on its leaves, shimmering with fine light.

"The Luoxia Mountain Earth Spirit has waited twenty-one years."

Lin Yuan didn't say "I will do my best."

He pulled the door open.

Dr. Li's voice came from behind him, very soft, as if asking the potted plant:

"Your sister... are her indicators showing any improvement?"

Lin Yuan's spine tightened slightly.

"Her white blood cell count rose by 0.7 last week. The doctor said if it stays stable for another two weeks, we can consider the next stage."

"That's good."

Lin Yuan didn't look back.

He walked into the nine o'clock morning sunlight.

The breakfast stall on the old street was still steaming, the radio was playing an old opera singer's aria, and an old woman carrying a vegetable basket passed by him, glancing at the young man who had stood at the clinic door for a long time, but she didn't ask anything.

Lin Yuan walked out of the old street and stopped at the newsstand at the corner of the intersection.

He didn't buy a newspaper. He just stood there, taking the commitment form signed by Dr. Li out of his inner pocket, unfolding it, and reading it from beginning to end once.

In the blank relationship column, the handwriting was neat and slender:

Signatory of the vein-locking nail Installation Agreement from twenty-one years ago.

He refolded the commitment form and put it back into his innermost pocket, closest to his chest.

His phone vibrated.

A spiritual message from Boss Qian:

"There's movement on Mo Feigong's side. Last night he mobilized three foreign guardians to enter the country, and their identity information was intercepted by the Tianji Pavilion. They aren't coming for Luoxia Mountain—they're coming for the Divine Realm Financial Regulatory Commission's archives."

"He wants to destroy the evidence before the hearing."

Lin Yuan stared at the screen.

Three seconds later, he dialed a number that wasn't in his contacts but which he already knew by heart.

It rang twice, and the other party answered.

The voice of the middle-aged man from the teahouse:

"Understood. Lingxiao Capital will reinforce the archives. You are responsible for your own personal safety—Clause 3 of the counterparty terms: Lingxiao Capital does not provide armed protection."

"I didn't intend for you to protect me," Lin Yuan said. "I need real-time surveillance access within a three-kilometer radius of the Summer Palace entrance. Not the spiritual energy detection type like the Tianji Pavilion, but physical surveillance."

The other party was silent for two seconds.

"I'll send it to you in forty minutes."

Click.

Lin Yuan stood by the newsstand, looking at the clinic across the street that had no sign. The old storm lantern was still hanging there, the lampshade having accumulated twenty years of dust; he didn't know if it could still light up.

He put his phone into his pocket.

Godhood debt countdown: 13 days 22 hours.

soul seal activity: 51%, and still slowly climbing.

He only had twenty minutes for that hearing in three days.

Twenty minutes to prove Mo Feigong's illegal asset chain, twenty minutes to convince seven old committee members who had seen it all to issue a freezing order, twenty minutes to turn that exit statement signed twenty-one years ago—which Dr. Li received a copy of every birthday—into the final page of the historical archives.

There wasn't enough time.

There never was enough.

But Lin Yuan didn't look down at the countdown again.

He turned and walked into the morning flow of people.

The potted Qilin tail remained on the clinic windowsill, its leaves swaying gently in the sunlight. Dr. Li was still sitting in the wooden chair, the closed prospectus on the small table beside her.

She didn't look out the window.

She just went over the position of the commitment form she had signed in her mind again.

When she signed that exit statement twenty-one years ago, her hand had been just as steady.

But that time, after she finished signing, she thought she would never have to sign any documents related to Mo Feigong again.

This time, she knew that wasn't the case.

This time, she knew that after signing this one, there would be another.

She would have to sign to pull out the vein-locking nails. She would have to sign for the Earth Spirit's revival. Someone had to speak for the vengeful spirits swallowed by the ten thousand infant banner twenty-one years ago—she would have to sign for that, too.

But she signed it anyway.

Not because she had finally gathered enough courage.

But because after signing this time, someone would take it and walk into that hearing room she had never stepped into.

The sun outside the window rose higher, and the old street began another day of clamor.

In the consultation room, the leaves of the potted Qilin tail turned slightly, facing the source of the light.