# Chapter 3
Saturday.
I usually don't schedule work on weekends, but today was an exception. The bar association dinner was at six-thirty that evening, at a Japanese restaurant downtown. It was held twice a year, and I went every time. People remembered those who didn't show up. They didn't remember those who did. It was a very simple calculation.
Before leaving, I went for a run. There was a riverside trail beside the neighborhood, two kilometers one way. I ran it twice—eight kilometers in all—in about forty minutes. I kept my heart rate around 140.
I didn't listen to music while running. I listened to the sounds around me. The rhythm of my feet hitting the ground, the river flowing, the occasional bicycle passing behind me, the soft hiss of its tires over the pavement.
There was someone fishing by the river today. An old man in a straw hat, with a red plastic bucket beside him. There were two fish inside, still moving. Their mouths opened and closed.
When I ran past him, he looked up at me. I nodded to him. He nodded back.
I went home after the run. Showered. Drank a glass of milk. There were still three eggs and half a container of tofu in the refrigerator. I needed to go to the supermarket tomorrow.
I didn't have much to do that afternoon. I spent an hour reading case law and another half hour organizing the timeline for Mr. Lin's case. Prosecutor Chen would submit supplemental evidence on Monday, and I needed to prepare my response in advance.
I left at four. I went to get a haircut first.
The barbershop was in an alley. The owner, Mr. Wu, was in his sixties and talked a lot. I always got my hair cut there, once a month. He remembered my style, so I never had to say much.
“Attorney Shen, been busy lately?”
“Not too bad.”
“Let me tell you, my son got a speeding ticket last month. Do you think he can appeal something like that?”
“Depends how fast he was going.”
“Fifteen kilometers over.”
“Just pay it.”
He laughed. The scissors went snip-snip beside my ear. In the mirror, I saw my own face. Very calm. It had always been very calm.
“All done, handsome.”
I paid four hundred in cash. He didn't accept mobile payments.
Outside the barbershop, the alley was narrow, lined on both sides with old apartment buildings. Someone was hanging clothes on a second-floor balcony. Water dripped down and landed on my right shoulder. I didn't look up.
When I reached the mouth of the alley, a woman came toward me from the other side. She was in her thirties, with short hair, walking a Shiba Inu. The dog saw me, wagged its tail a few times, and edged toward me.
“Sorry. He loves people.” The woman smiled and pulled the dog back.
“No problem.” I crouched and petted the dog's head. Its fur was stiff, and it smelled like it had just been washed.
The dog licked my hand.
The woman laughed again. “He hardly ever licks strangers. You must be a really good person.”
“Thank you.”
I stood up. Walked away.
I drove to the restaurant. Six twenty-five. The parking lot was on the basement level, and the spaces were narrow. After parking, I checked my tie in the rearview mirror. Dark blue, paired with a light gray suit today.
I took the elevator up and pushed open the door to the private room. Seven or eight people had already arrived.
“Moyan's here.”
It was Attorney Zhang. Fifty-two, a family-law attorney, with a loud voice and a laugh that moved his whole face. He sat near the head of the table every time, and he was always the first to arrive.
“Big Brother Zhang.” I shook his hand.
“Come on, come sit over here.”
I sat down. To my left was a young attorney I didn't know. To my right was Attorney He, an intellectual-property attorney in his forties who wore glasses and spoke slowly.
A few more people arrived one after another. The last to come was the bar association president, Director Zhao. He was sixty-one, with completely white hair, but he was in excellent spirits. Everyone stood when he entered.
“Sit, sit. No need to stand on ceremony.”
The dishes began to arrive. Sashimi, grilled fish, tempura, and steamed egg custard. The sake was chilled, served in tiny cups.
Attorney Zhang started talking about a divorce case he'd recently taken. The husband had cheated, and the wife was demanding fifty million. He told the story vividly, and everyone at the table laughed.
I laughed too. Right on cue.
Attorney He turned to me.
“Moyan, I heard you recently took an assault-causing-death case.”
“Yes.”
“How is it? Feeling confident?”
“I’m still looking at it. The client has been cooperative.”
“Criminal law is hard. You have to deal with those people every day.” He shook his head. “Intellectual property is so much easier. At worst, it’s a plagiarism dispute.”
“To each their own.”
He patted me on the shoulder. “You’re just too modest. I heard your closing argument in that murder case last time even moved the judge.”
“Good luck, I suppose.”
“What luck? That was skill.” He raised his glass. “Come on. A toast to you.”
I tapped my glass against his. The sake went down smoothly, around eight degrees Celsius.
Across from us, Director Zhao was speaking. His voice wasn't loud, but everyone was listening. He was talking about next year's bar association elections and the direction of judicial reform. I listened and nodded occasionally. None of it had anything to do with me, but showing concern was necessary.
At one point, I went to the restroom. The hallway was quiet. The carpet was thick, and footsteps were almost inaudible.
While washing my hands, I looked exactly the same in the mirror as I had in the private room.
Because there was no difference.
I returned to my seat. Dessert had arrived: matcha ice cream. I ate two bites. Too sweet.
The dinner ended around nine. Everyone made small talk at the entrance, exchanged business cards, and made plans to play golf next time. Attorney Zhang had too much to drink, and his wife had come to pick him up. Before getting into the car, he patted me on the shoulder.
“Moyan, you’re one of the few people in this line of work who makes me feel comfortable. Really.”
“You’ve had too much to drink, Big Brother Zhang.”
“I mean it.” His eyes were a little red. “There are too many bastards in this profession. You’re different.”
I smiled. “Get some rest, Big Brother Zhang.”
His wife nodded at me. The car drove away.
The parking lot. I walked toward my car. My footsteps echoed through the empty basement.
There were only three cars left on B1: mine, a white SUV, and a black sedan.
Someone was standing beside the black sedan. A man, around forty, wearing a white chef's uniform. He might have been a restaurant employee waiting for someone to pick him up, or he might have been smoking.
He was smoking. I could smell it.
I opened the car door and got in.
He was about fifteen meters away, facing away from me. The glow of his cigarette flared and faded in the dim parking lot.
I watched him for about three seconds.
Then I started the engine, backed up, and drove away.
I didn't have to do it every time. That was another calculation. Too high a frequency would increase the risk. I wasn't someone who couldn't control himself. I simply didn't need to.
The drive home was smooth. It was ten on a Saturday night, and there wasn't much traffic.
I got home. Parked. Went upstairs.
When I opened the door, the hallway's motion-sensor light came on. A pair of children's rain boots sat outside the apartment next door, pink, with rabbits printed on them.
I went inside. Locked the door. Changed my shoes.
Washed my hands.
The water was cold. The hand soap smelled like pomelo. I scrubbed for twenty seconds. It was a habit, not a ritual.
I dried my hands and sat on the couch. I didn't turn on the TV.
The living room was quiet. Outside the window was the city's background hum: traffic, music from somewhere in the distance, all of it muffled.
My phone vibrated once. A message from Fang.
“Attorney Shen, I organized the supplemental evidence list from Prosecutor Chen's office for Monday morning. It's in the shared folder.”
I replied: “Okay, thanks.”
She immediately sent back a smiling face.
I set my phone on the coffee table.
I stood up and walked to the window.
From the fourteenth floor, the city lights looked like a net. There was someone behind every light. Eating dinner, watching TV, arguing, having sex, crying, sleeping.
I looked for about a minute.
Then I drew the curtains.
Brushed my teeth. Lay down.