Year 2226
Ren Jian arrived at 7:15. Dinner time for some. For others, this is the start of the day.
The city had changed in two hundred years Since the Last Purge. Taller buildings. Cleaner air. But the corruption was deeper now. More organized.
The Voss family still sat at the top. They always did.
Edmund met him at the door. The dining room was too large for three people. Crystal chandelier. A twelve seat table. Edmund sat at the head. Irene to his right. Ren Jian across from her.
They had known each other long enough. Just shook hands casually. Still maintained basic respect.
Inside, the food came out one by one. The wine was poured. They talked about business. Some property in the eastern district. A mutual colleague who had retired.
Ren Jian ate slowly. He listened. Thinking about that five year old girl.
He refilled his glass. Waited until the plates were half empty.
Then he put down his fork.
"Brother," he said. "Let's cut to the chase. I'm pretty sure you know why I'm here. So where is your son. I need to talk to him and both of you at the same time."
Madam Voss pretended. "Ren Jian, what happened? Why so serious suddenly? Doesn't seem like you at all."
"Come on, Irene. Stop pretending. I'm pretty sure you know what your son did. Do I need to spell it out for you?"
Edmund Voss set down his knife slowly.
"What about him," he said.
Ren Jian kept his voice level. Flat tone. Tried hard to suppress his rage. Keep calm. Deep breath. Don't lose control. That was all he could think of.
Then he turned his head slowly.
"Brother. You know me. I'm not a good man. Not really. Never pray. Never go to temple. Don't donate either. All that stuff — that's not me. But as bad as I am, you know my principles. Can you say it out loud for me, brother?"
He paused for several breaths.
"Come on brother, work with me. Say it for me. Can you do that?"
Edmund paused. Drank his wine. The glass stayed in his hand. He did not set it down.
Ren Jian sighed.
"Fine. Brother, some crimes cannot be forgiven, nor can they be defended. We are human beings. If we cross that line —"
He stopped. Then continued.
"We are worse than animals, brother. What your son did to that child — it's pure evil."
Irene Voss went still across the table. Her hands were flat on the tablecloth. Too flat. Like she was pressing herself down to keep from flying across the room.
Edmund turned his head. Stoic face. But his jaw was tight.
Ren Jian continued.
"Brother, one evil act breeds another. You should know this. Or have you already forgotten what happened last time?"
Silence. Nobody spoke. The servant had stopped pouring wine. Stood frozen by the wall.
Edmund clenched his fist.
Ren Jian looked at him directly.
"Brother, for the first time in my life, I am begging you. You too, Irene. I don't want to lose our friendship. Twenty years. You two are the closest thing to family I have."
Irene asked, "What exactly do you want to say here, Ren Jian?"
"Please tell your son to surrender himself. Tell him to confess what he did to that poor girl. Even better — accompany him yourself and ask for the death sentence already. No need to waste money and effort on this kind of trash."
He continued.
"Don't make me go through this. I won't defend him. Because of me, a five year old girl has suffered and will carry this her whole life. That's my sin. I will carry it for the rest of my life too. I don't even know how to wash it away."
He looked at Edmund.
"You are both still young enough. There is still time. Just consider this one a lost cause. Since he was young, how many times did you protect him? That is what shaped him into the man he is today."
He stopped for a while and sighed. Then "If you protect him now, one day you will understand that, what you protected will be the downfall of your family. He is seventeen. Already, he planned this. Already he prepared for it. What does a man like that will become when he has everything you have built?"
He paused.
"Brother. Please. I am begging you."
Madam Voss spoke first. Her voice steady. Composed. But her fingers were interlaced now. Knuckles white.
"He is my son," she said. "I carried him. Nine months. I am sorry. Please forget this case."
Ren Jian looked at her. For a long moment. Then he reached forward and took the handkerchief from the table. Wiped his mouth slowly. Set it down.
"Brother. Sister-in-law." He looked at both of them. "This is the last time I call you that."
Neither spoke.
"How about this. If you cannot do it — let me do it. I will handle it quietly. You take a holiday. One month. Anywhere you want. Consider it a second honeymoon. Come back when it is finished. Your son will not suffer. You will not suffer. It ends cleanly."
Madam Voss stood up. The chair scraped the floor. Too loud.
"You are an animal." Her voice broke on the last word. Then hardened again. "He is my child. My only child. And you sit at my table and you—"
"Edmund."
Ren Jian said it slowly. Did not raise his voice. He looked at Edmund Voss.
"Brother. Look at me."
Edmund looked up.
One Second, Three seconds. Four. The two men looked at each other across twenty years of friendship. Across twenty years of dinners. Deals. Favors. Trust.
Then Edmund Voss said one word.
"Leave."
Ren Jian paused. His left eye twitch. Then he stood. Slowly. Took his jacket. His keys. Walked out slowly.
The door closed.
---
He sat in his car outside for a while. The parking lot was empty. The house behind him was lit up like a ship. Bright. He could see Irene's silhouette through the window. Standing. Not moving.
His hands reached for his pocket. Lit the cigarette. Started his ritual. Drag deep. Release.
He was thinking about the drug case he had won three weeks ago. A pharmaceutical compound. Belonged to Edmund. Advanced formulation. He had argued successfully that the compound posed no public safety risk. The court agreed. The family's lawyers were satisfied. Everyone was happy.
He was thinking about the medical report he had read that afternoon. Through his connections. That little girl's medical report. The specific effects of that compound on a small body. The duration. The mechanism. How a child under its influence would appear to anyone watching. Happy. Calm. Unafraid. How she would walk home carrying plastic bags and smile at a camera. How her mother would not know until the bathwater turned red.
He win that case. Stood in that courtroom and argued for that compound's freedom. Win completely. And the man who used it on a five year old girl had been in that courtroom. Watching him win.
Ren Jian's knuckles turned white. The cigarette bent between his fingers. He crushed it into the ashtray. Grabbed the wheel. Started the engine.
He drove to the grocery store.
---
The grocery store was on a small street. The kind of street that time forgot. Old lamps. Cracked sidewalk. The sign above the door was hand-painted. Fading.
He knocked twice.
Dark inside. A light came on in the back. Footsteps. A man's voice.
"We are closed."
Ren Jian held up his name card.
"My name is Ren Jian. I am a lawyer. I need to speak with you and your family."
The father looked at the card. Then at his face. Then at the card again. He opened the door wider.
"Come inside please. I am Charlie."
---
The store was small. Shelves with canned goods. A refrigerator with drinks. In the back, a table. Four chairs. A photograph on the wall — a family. Mother, father, one child. The girl.
Ren Jian sat across from the parents. Did not know how to begin.
Charlie started speaking.
"So, what can I do for you?"
"I want you to tell me everything that happened to your daughter. Everything. Don't miss any small detail. Everything you can remember."
Charlie spoke first. Then his wife. They told him about the afternoon. About the report at the police station. About the officers who came, who took notes, who checked the CCTV recordings from the street. About the way the investigation changed the moment the young master's family name appeared on the screen.
The way the officer's pen stopped moving.
The way the file was closed.
Charlie's voice break every few sentences. The struggle of a man, a husband and a father to a 5 years old girl can be seen in his way of speaking. He speak continuously, with rage But he had no tears left. No powers to do anything.
They told him about the doors they knocked on afterward. The lawyers who would not take the case. The officials who did not return calls. The community leaders who advised them quietly — let it go, these are not people you can fight, you are not people they have to listen to.
The mother's hands were on the table. Shaking. She did not notice. Or couldnt stop. It's instinct thing.
Ren Jian listened to all of it. Did not interrupt.
When they finished he said, "Can I see your daughter please."
The mother stood. Walked to the back. She was gone for a long moment. Ren Jian heard whispering. A child's voice. Then silence.
She returned. The child was behind her. Holding her mother's skirt. Not hiding her face. Just holding.
---
The drug's effects were wearing off. It had been almost a month. The compound he had argued for in court — the one he had successfully defended as safe, controlled, no public risk — had been designed to last exactly that long. Thirty days where a child would seem fine to anyone looking. Until the thirty days ended.
He understood now. Fully. Completely. What the compound had been designed for. Not what the defense brief said. Not what the clinical documents showed. What it was actually for.
He had stood in a courtroom and handed someone a weapon. Called it medicine. Billed it at his standard rate.
His face did not change.
He stood up. Walked to the child. Crouched down to her level. His knees complained. He ignored them.
He reached out and touched her head gently. Just his hand. Just for a moment. Her hair was thin. Her scalp was warm.
"Hello. What's your name?"
The girl looked at him. Her eyes were tired. Swollen.
"Janice," she whispered.
"Okay. Don't worry, Janice. Everything will be okay. Uncle guarantees you."
She looked at him. Did not smile. But she did not look away.
He stood. Turned to the parents.
"Don't go anywhere. Live as you normally would. Close the store. Don't buy anything. Don't accept anything from anyone. I will handle this case."
The mother started to speak. Ren Jian raised one hand.
"I know you two have concerns. But these are not the kind of people you can resist. There is nowhere to run. No use running."
He picked up his briefcase. Walked to the door. At the door he stopped. Did not turn around.
"We will win this case. Or I die trying."
---
End of Prologue.