Chapter 26: Law and Soul

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the law school, casting dappled shadows across the podium. Li Yifei sat in the back row, his fingers unconsciously tracing the edges of his Criminal Law textbook.

It had been several days since Professor Zong had arranged for him to sit in on the class, yet the inquisitive glances of his peers still made him feel as though he were sitting on pins and needles. As an auditor, he was acutely aware of the high threshold of the legal world. While the obscure statutes and case studies were not entirely unfamiliar to him, there was much that remained foreign—all of which required his diligent effort to master.

The class bell rang suddenly, followed by slow, steady footsteps echoing in the corridor. Li Yifei looked up to see an elderly man dressed in a dark grey Zhongshan suit. His white hair was groomed with meticulous care, and his gaze, framed by gold-rimmed spectacles, was both gentle and profound.

As the old man slowly ascended the podium, the classroom erupted in thunderous applause. A student in the front row even stood up in excitement.

"Elder Zhao! It’s really Elder Zhao!" the boy sitting next to him whispered, his eyes gleaming with adoration. "He is a leading authority who participated in the 1997 revision of the Criminal Law. He hasn't taught a class in ten years!"

Li Yifei felt a jolt in his chest, his gaze involuntarily drawn to the man on the podium. Elder Zhao raised a hand slightly, and the applause died down instantly; the classroom fell so silent that one could hear the sound of breathing.

"Good morning, students," Elder Zhao said, his voice bearing the weight of years yet remaining exceptionally clear. "It has been a long time since I stood at this lectern. Looking at your young faces reminds me of my own student days."

He adjusted his glasses and swept his gaze across the room. "The school kindly invited me to speak about the past of the legal profession. To be honest, I initially thought there was nothing left to say; those old stories might seem outdated today. But then I reconsidered: though history may be buried in dust, it is forever a beacon that illuminates the future."

The classroom was hushed, everyone listening with bated breath. Elder Zhao narrowed his eyes slightly, as if returning to those turbulent times. "When I was young, the nation was in its darkest hour. The iron hooves of invaders trampled our land at will, burning, killing, and looting—committing every evil imaginable. International law? In the face of guns and cannons, it was nothing more than a scrap of paper. Back then, the greatest wish of the common people was simply to survive."

His voice grew lower, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the podium. "It wasn't until the founding of New China that we finally saw hope. But with a land scarred by devastation and a nation waiting to be rebuilt, how were we to develop? There was only one answer: through systems, through the rule of law."

Li Yifei was spellbound. The videos of miscarriages of justice he had watched in his past life flickered through his mind: the youth who lost their prime in prison cells; the broken families driven to despair during long, arduous appeals. These images intertwined with Elder Zhao’s narrative, making his heart ache.

"The perfection of the law is never achieved overnight," Elder Zhao said, turning to write the characters for "Legal Evolution" on the blackboard. The scratching of the chalk against the board was piercingly clear in the silent room. "In the early days of the nation, our legal system was practically a blank slate. Without experience or references, we had no choice but to cross the river by feeling the stones. If you open those old codes today, you might see them as riddled with loopholes, but they represent precious experience bought with the sweat and even the lives of countless legal professionals."

His gaze suddenly sharpened. "Students, remember: the law is always progressing, but progress inevitably comes at a cost. Like a great building, every cornerstone laid may be accompanied by the pangs of labor."

These words struck Li Yifei like a heavy hammer. He thought of the tears of the wrongly accused, the indifference and buck-passing they encountered on their paths to justice, and an indescribable impulse surged within him.

"So," Elder Zhao turned abruptly, pressing his chalk firmly against the blackboard to write a large, bold character for 'Law', "what is the law?"

The student in the front row immediately raised his hand. "The law is order, it is constraint, it is the standard by which society functions!"

"The law is a tool," a girl with a ponytail stood up, her voice crisp. "It is a means to uphold fairness and justice!"

The students vied to speak, offering a variety of answers. Li Yifei, however, was lost in thought. Memories of his past life flooded in like a tide: the young man driven to madness in prison due to insufficient evidence; the elderly woman who spent twenty years seeking justice for her husband, only to pass away with her regrets. These images stung his nerves, causing his hands to clench into fists.

"Teacher!" Li Yifei suddenly stood up, his voice trembling slightly with emotion. "The law is the cornerstone of national development, the only means for the common people to defend themselves, and a sharp blade to strike fear into corrupt officials! But the law is more than just cold statutes—it must have warmth, and it must have humanity!"

His voice echoed through the room. "If the law becomes a plaything in the hands of the few, if the power to interpret statutes becomes a fig leaf for corruption, that is the ultimate blasphemy against the rule of law!"

The classroom fell into a deathly silence, everyone staring in shock at the "intruding" transfer student. Elder Zhao pushed up his glasses, a flicker of imperceptible approval flashing in his eyes. "What is your name, student?"

"Li Yifei."

"A fine name, Li Yifei," Elder Zhao smiled slightly. "You are right. The law is a blade, but it is also compassion. The life of the law lies in its implementation, and the authority of the law also lies in its implementation. If we cannot allow every ordinary person to feel fairness and justice in judicial cases, then all our efforts will lose their meaning."

He swept his gaze over the young faces before him and said earnestly, "Students, the responsibility shouldered by those in the legal profession is heavier than Mount Tai. What you hold in your hands is not merely statutes, but the fates of countless people. Remember, the perfection of the law requires the efforts of generation after generation, and you are the hope of the future."

When the bell rang, Li Yifei remained immersed in thought. He gazed at the clear blue sky outside the window, having already made a decision: since he had been reborn, he would never again watch those tragedies repeat themselves. Perhaps the power of one individual was insignificant, but if he could add a brick or a tile to the progress of the rule of law, everything would be worth it.

As he walked out of the classroom, the glow of the sunset bathed him. Li Yifei gripped his textbook tightly and stepped toward the library with firm resolve. He knew the road ahead was filled with thorns, but Elder Zhao’s words were like a beacon, illuminating his path. On this journey toward fairness and justice, he was no longer a bystander, but a steadfast traveler.

For nothing else, but for that passion to speak out against injustice, and for the devotion to mend this tattered world.