Chapter 42: The Gentle Butcher's Knife

Jiang Yi’s final question struck the entire courtroom like a silent, explosive bomb.

Song Shiya’s face could no longer be described as merely "pale."

It was a shade of deathly, ashen gray.

She opened her mouth, but not a single word came out. In that exact moment, Jiang Yi’s calm and ruthless logic tore her perfect, pitiful, tragic-heroine mask into microscopic fragments.

"I... I..." she stammered incoherently, her panicked eyes casting a desperate signal of SOS toward the plaintiff’s attorney.

Yet that shrewd lawyer was already drowning in his own troubles. Cold sweat drenched his forehead; he could never have anticipated that his meticulously prepared trump card would be effortlessly dismantled by the opposing counsel through such a simple yet fatal logical loophole.

"Order in the court!" The judge struck his gavel once more, his stern gaze sweeping toward Song Shiya in the witness stand. "Witness, please answer the defendant's question directly."

"I... I forgot!" Under the immense pressure, Song Shiya finally cracked, screaming indiscriminately. "I just forgot! Is that not allowed?!"

This sharp, near-hysterical shriek stripped away the very last shred of her dignity.

From the public gallery came a wave of repressed, muffled laughter.

The reporters, acting as though they had just been injected with adrenaline, frantically aimed their camera lenses straight at her distorted, losing-her-grip face.

The corner of Jiang Yi's mouth curved into a cold, mocking smirk.

Without uttering another single word, he simply sat back down.

Yet everyone in the room knew: he had won.

With the most elegant posture, he had won the dirtiest victory.

Upon sitting down, he subconsciously raised his head and glanced up at Xu Yuan in the gallery.

That look resembled that of a victorious child coming to claim praise from his commanding general.

It carried a trace of pride and reliance, so subtle that even he himself had not noticed it.

Silently, Xu Yuan gave him a thumbs-up.

Those sparkling eyes were filled with unmasked admiration and amusement.

Jiang Yi’s heart skipped a beat, disobediently, once again.

Losing his composure, he shifted his gaze away, though the tips of his ears immediately flushed red in an uncontrollable manner.

"Your Honor," the plaintiff's attorney wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and pressed on, putting up a bold front to salvage the situation, "due to emotional agitation, my witness's memory has become disoriented. I request a brief recess..."

"Request denied." The judge interrupted him mercilessly, his voice majestic and indifferent. "In view of the fact that the witness, Song Shiya, is unable to provide a reasonable explanation for the source of her testimony and is in an extremely unstable emotional state, this court announces that all of her testimony shall be deemed inadmissible."

"Furthermore," the judge's gaze turned toward the plaintiff's attorney, carrying a hint of severe warning, "I remind the plaintiff's side that fabricating evidence and instigating witnesses to commit perjury constitute severe acts of obstructing the administration of justice. Should this happen again, this court will pursue legal liability in accordance with the law!"

The plaintiff lawyer's face instantly turned the color of a pig's liver.

Meanwhile, in the public gallery, Jiang Wan covered her mouth in trembling excitement as silent tears surged down her face.

For a decade, this was the first genuine victory she and her younger brother had claimed in this long, seemingly endless war.

Just when everyone assumed this farce was about to conclude with a miserable defeat for the plaintiff, a gentle voice laced with a hint of apology suddenly rang out from the back of the public gallery.

"Pardon me, Your Honor, might I be permitted to say a few words?"

It was Wen Ran.

He slowly stood to his feet, wearing his trademark, impeccably gentle smile.

It was as though the farce that had just threatened to wipe out his entire chess army had nothing whatsoever to do with him.

"Who are you?" The judge frowned.

"I am Wen Ran, a friend of both Jiang Yi and Song Shiya," he replied with airtight composure. "I believe I may be able to offer some clarification regarding the misunderstanding that just occurred."

The moment he spoke, he once again drew every single person's attention toward himself.

Xu Yuan's heart tightened violently.

She knew this man was finally stepping onto the stage himself.

"Speak," the judge said concisely.

"Actually, this entire matter is simply a misunderstanding." An appropriately helpless, bitter smile appeared on Wen Ran's face. "It was I who mentioned to Shiya that court was in session today."

"Last night, I inadvertently overheard a conversation between Jiang Yi and another classmate, which was how I learned he would be coming to the courthouse today. At the time, I was deeply worried about him. Therefore, acting on my own accord, I contacted Shiya—who cares for him just as much—hoping she might come along to offer him some moral support."

"I never anticipated that my action would cause such immense trouble for her and for the court."

"I offer my solemn apologies to everyone here."

With those words, he gave a deep bow toward the judge and the jury box.

His posture was humble, sincere, and utterly faultless.

His explanation was seamless.

On one hand, it provided a perfect rationale for how Song Shiya acquired the information.

On the other hand, it cast himself as an innocent bystander whose good intentions had gone awry out of concern for a friend.

Furthermore, it conveniently painted Jiang Yi as ungrateful and cold-blooded.

Three birds with one stone.

What a gentle, yet lethal blade.

Xu Yuan's fingertips grew cold once more with sheer anger.

She noticed that the gazes in the public gallery—previously filled with utter contempt for Song Shiya—began to waver once again after listening to Wen Ran's speech.

And Jiang Yi, who had only moments ago secured a sweeping victory, was once again shoved directly into the raging spotlight of public opinion.

"Order!" The judge struck his gavel. "This is a courtroom, not a social tea party for making friends! This court has received your explanation. Now, please sit down!"

Smiling faintly, Wen Ran nodded and calmly resumed his seat.

Yet the fleeting, provocative glance he cast toward Xu Yuan pierced into her heart like a poisonous thorn, precisely targeted.

It seemed to say: Your counterattack was very pretty.

However, it was useless.

As long as I am here, he will never, ever crawl out of the mire.