As Gao Jingyi entered the room, Jiang Heng had just finished his coffee.
He was seated on the sofa, with two empty file folders tossed beside him. A large array of documents was spread out on the coffee table in front of him. Gao Jingyi glanced at them and noticed a bit of everything.
The forensic report was placed to his right, and Jiang Heng was slightly hunched over, carefully examining a photo he held in his hand.
Standing at the door, Gao Jingyi tapped on it with his fingers to signify his presence. Seeing Jiang Heng look up, he shook his head and said, “Why are you working so hard? It’s so late, shouldn’t you be resting?.”
“Working overtime isn’t unusual for me.” Jiang Heng casually placed the photo on the coffee table and smiled. “But you coming here at this time is much more unexpected.”
“I came to pick up a contract.” Gao Jingyi walked in, lifting the folder he held and swaying it. “I have a flight tomorrow morning at 9:30. I’m heading straight to the airport after.”
“Going to Shenzhen again?” Jiang Heng asked. “Hasn’t Li Zong’s matter been resolved yet?”
“Not yet,” Gao Jingyi said. “The subsidiary company just opened, so everything has to start from scratch.”
He closed the door behind him and walked over, bending to pick up Jiang Heng’s cup. Glancing inside, he furrowed his brow.
“Still drinking coffee?” Gao Jingyi said. “You’ve only been discharged for a few days. Do you want to risk your life?”
“It’s just one cup,” Jiang Heng said. “The doctor’s orders didn’t say I couldn’t.”
“The doctor’s orders also didn’t say you couldn’t drink pesticides,” Gao Jingyi said irritably. “Are you drinking that too?”
He immediately took Jiang Heng’s cup and, incidentally, collected all the coffee capsules from his office, stuffing them into the folder as though he were a bandit raiding a rich man’s house.
Sighing, Jiang Heng pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “Gao Jingyi, you should really consider a career in logistics. You’re concerned about me having a cup of coffee—maybe I should get you a medal that says ‘Caring Auntie’.”
“I’m thinking about your health,” Gao Jingyi said, approaching Jiang Heng’s coffee table. He glanced over the documents spread out in front of Jiang Heng, then asked, “Complicated case?”
“Somewhat,” Jiang Heng didn’t mince words. He pulled out a loose-leaf notebook page and handed it to Gao Jingyi.
“Li Wen died from postoperative infection,” Jiang Heng said. “He was an AIDS patient, had been sick for a few years, and was on medication to control it—although it seems the medication wasn’t very effective. According to what Li Linghua said, he already had visible symptoms on his skin.”
Gao Jingyi nodded, listening to Jiang Heng and skimming over the notes he had written.
“Based on the forensic report and Li Wen’s medical history from the private hospital, his CD4 count was very low, fluctuating around one hundred and sixty,” Jiang Heng continued. “In principle, this value is not suitable for surgery. If the surgery was absolutely necessary then it had to be strictly controlled.”
“The doctor didn’t make any special arrangements?” Gao Jingyi asked.
“No,” Jiang Heng said.
“So, in that case, is it medical negligence? It seems it all depends on whether the dad is telling the truth or not.” Gao Jingyi blinked, pointing to the sheet in his hand. “If he’s lying, it’s medical malpractice; the hospital will pay a sum of money, and that’s it. If he’s telling the truth, then it’s about holding the doctor accountable—simple.”
“The problem is, Li Linghua’s husband’s affair did mention wanting to harm Li Wen in some way a week ago,” Jiang Heng said. “Li Linghua hired a private investigator who secretly looked into this woman and discovered that she had searched online several times about the differences between ‘negligent homicide and accidental death’ and whether ‘accidental killing results in prison sentences.'”
“That’s not very smart,” Gao Jingyi seemed to find this behavior overly direct and foolish, couldn’t help but comment, “If she had that much time to search on Baidu, she might as well spend some money to consult a lawyer. It’s safer than relying on search websites.”
Jiang Heng couldn’t help but smile and continued, “So, Li Linghua believes that Zhou Fang was responsible for Li Wen’s death. She thinks that Zhou Fang conspired with the doctor to take Li Wen’s life.”
As he spoke these words, he subtly furrowed his brows. Gao Jingyi observed his expression, feeling that Jiang Heng didn’t seem very enthusiastic about this.
—Jiang Heng always had an unusual enthusiasm for his work. Gao Jingyi couldn’t tell whether it was a love for law or a love for his career. The more complex a case, the more intrigued Jiang Heng became. In all the time Gao Jingyi had known him, he’d never seen Jiang Heng troubled by a case. To the extent that he sometimes wondered if Jiang Heng was actually an AI developed by FutureTech, with steel-reinforced cables beneath his clothing.
Gao Jingyi, finding his lack of enthusiasm unusual, carefully read the documents again, finally noticing a name in the text.
“Ji, Yao,” Gao Jingyi’s gaze lingered on that name for two seconds, faintly sensing something.
The name wasn’t new to him. When Jiang Heng had returned to the country not too long ago, they had been having a casual drink during their free time. Jiang Heng ended up getting drunk and mentioned this name.
That had been the first time Gao Jingyi had heard Jiang Heng bring up a person while drunk. At that time, Jiang Heng had seemed to deliberately let himself get drunk, his eyes filled with indescribable emotions. When he mentioned the name, he had been vague, as if wanting to talk about it but also afraid to.
Gao Jingyi hadn’t quite caught what he said at the time and subconsciously asked again. Jiang Heng had then sat up, writing those two characters on the table.
“Is this person important?” Gao Jingyi had inquired.
By that point, Jiang Heng, who was already drunk, had looked at the characters on the table for a while. Finally, he reached over and wiped away the characters.
“It’s someone I shouldn’t think about,” he had said.
What had transpired between them, Gao Jingyi wasn’t entirely sure. But he knew one thing for sure—this was someone Jiang Heng couldn’t let go of.
“Ji Yao,” Gao Jingyi asked, “Is that the ex-boyfriend you can’t forget?”
Jiang Heng hesitated for a moment, but didn’t refute it. “Yes.”
“Serves you right,” Gao Jingyi sighed and said, “I told you to stop meddling. I did warn you against picking up cases when you’re still recovering. If you’d said you couldn’t handle it, I would’ve turned down the case.”
“A man can’t admit he can’t handle it,” Jiang Heng said, then unconsciously reached for his coffee cup. Realizing it was empty, he tried to cover it up by picking up the nearby forensic report.
Jiang Heng hadn’t said anything, but Gao Jingyi was already preemptively worrying for him. He looked at the report in his hand and felt like he was holding a hot potato.
“I think the probability of collusion is low,” Gao Jingyi said. “Doctors aren’t close to their patients, they’d have to be crazy to help someone commit murder.”
“The case is quite clear,” Gao Jingyi tried to persuade him earnestly. “You know it yourself, these forced ‘evidences’ mean nothing. Bribery in front of everyone to get a doctor to kill a patient? Not even TV dramas play out like that anymore. As for whether Zhou Fang acted on her thoughts or not, that’s a different case, and it’s not your concern—plus, you know the other party personally, so you should have an idea.”
“What I know personally can stretch from the bottom of this building to the Oriental Pearl Tower. If I show favoritism, then I might as well not be a lawyer,” Jiang Heng said. “There’s a distinction between public and private matters. I know him, but that has nothing to do with Li Linghua’s case.”
Gao Jingyi watched Jiang Heng, his firm stance making Gao Jingyi’s teeth hurt. He took a deep breath and said, “So, what’s your plan? This coincidence seems far-fetched. It probably doesn’t meet the standards for initiating a case, right?”
Gao Jingyi primarily dealt with civil and commercial law, unlike Jiang Heng, who was used to litigating in court. Gao Jingyi’s work mainly involved cooperating with other companies, providing advisory services to help establish their legal frameworks. He wasn’t well-versed in criminal law-related matters, and he admitted that he wasn’t as familiar with these issues as Jiang Heng was.
“It falls short,” Jiang Heng said.
After a moment, he spoke again, “I’ll advise Li Linghua to charge the other party with medical malpractice.”
“Isn’t that a bit much?” Gao Jingyi said. “Are you serious? Is that even necessary?”
“I’ve always been serious,” Jiang Heng said, looking down with seriousness in his eyes. “Li Linghua wants justice for Li Wen’s death, and I have to provide her with this ‘justice’.”
“Fine, do as you please.” Gao Jingyi said, straightening up and checking his watch. “I have to get up early tomorrow, so I’ll be leaving.”
“Just a moment.” Jiang Heng called out to him. “Is Senior Brother in Hong Circle? Which firm? Do you know?”
“You mean Qian Xu? Seems like it. He was transferred to Shanghai last year, I think. I forgot which firm.” Gao Jingyi raised an eyebrow. “What are you up to? It’s against the rules for the plaintiff’s lawyer to introduce the defendant’s lawyer.”
“I know.” Jiang Heng pinched his nose and looked a bit unhappy. “Could you arrange a meeting with him for me? I want to treat him to a meal.”