Chapter Text
The nation had already agreed on his guilt.
It had been a week since the man, dubbed ‘The Yiling patriarch’ by countless clickbait headlines, was taken into custody. His picture had yet to be leaked, but there was no doubt that Wei Wuxian was a serial murderer, who had used a range of mountains local to Yiling to dispose of his victims – The location also quickly nicknamed ‘The Burial Mounds’ for their macabre use.
The evidence?
Overwhelming.
The motive…?
Well, you don’t need one to win a case. Some rumors speculated the rampage had been triggered by a falling out of some kind. Besides, the man had to be suffering from some sort of mental illness! No normal person could carry out such atrocities. Ergo - Everyone concluded - A psycho.
Only the official verdict was needed, and the world would be one monster poorer. Good riddance.
Lan Wangji knew all this, even prior to being assigned. Well before this 'Wei Wuxian' was ever a suspect, the string of murders had gripped the prefecture in fear. Lan Wangji never indulged in gossip, yet with the media coverage, workplace talk of a possible future case, and his brother and uncle’s concerned whispers, he couldn’t help knowing quite a bit of the story; Over the last 8 years, at least 15 people, most of whom had connections to higher society, had gone missing for a few days, before being found murdered and dumped in the Yiling mountains. The police further asserted that the culprit had to be a single individual. How they had come to that conclusion was beyond Lan Wangji. Before the arrest, he would have looked at the same set of facts and concluded there was a group of people behind. Of course, now with the case files in his lap, the mounting evidence against the accused seemed impossible to deny.
His mind was going over the details when his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out to answer as he sat in the back of the secured vehicle that was taking him to the holding cells, where he’d have the first conversation with his client.
---
Lan Wangji had steeled his heart, needing no more heartbreak in this lifetime. After that first, only, and disastrous foray into falling in love, he had escaped back to the safety of his childhood: Strict rules which, when followed precisely, would ensure he could never misstep again. Words failed him and he could not trust his own heart, so he had sealed it and would live within the parameters set by others. No mistake could be made so long as he followed the guidelines that had been tried and tested time and again. This way, whatever loss he’d experience, would be out of his control anyway. It had been, in the past, when he had been so good, waiting in front of doors that would never open again.
The locket with a picture burned against his chest – He had not opened it for years. Her smile reminded him too much of matters best forgotten.
So, it was little surprise to his relatives when Lan Wangji followed in the family footsteps and entered law school. Honestly, he was made for it. Memorizing the laws and their logic was of little trouble. If he had questions about the morality of any rule, no he had not, his heart was sealed. The laws were this way, for that was the best way they could be.
However, what no one expected was the role he chose in court: He would be defending, rather than prosecuting. He had always seemed the type to hunt criminals with the full force of the law. Yet he chose the path that would use that same force to absolve the accused of as much as possible. His uncle warned him that trying to defend those of bad character and actions might put him in bad social standing. He said there might be consequences if Lan Wangji pushed the limits in his guidance to a criminal or when arguing during trials. Yet, if asked, Lan Wangji would just answer that it, too, was righteous. To defend those without support.
Lend a hand where no one else would.
From under its seal, his heart would whisper of a bright smile, which always sought as many liberties within the rules as could possibly be allowed. Someone who everyone, Lan Wangji included, had failed so miserably. He pretended he didn’t hear it.
The Lan law firm provided both prosecution and defense within civil and criminal cases. But after just his first year in civil law, he had become known as a young prodigy, and the elders had encouraged him to step into criminal law. His uncle and brother had their worries, but all Lan Wangji's clients knew they had gotten the best defense money could buy. Much more so, seeing as he chose to be assigned through the legal aid agency, solely taking cases of those less fortunate, those who could not afford defense otherwise.
Even despite a national conviction rate of over 99%, Lan Wangji had shown to be one of the few attorneys a defendant could rely on for at least some leniency in judgement, if not a rare acquittal as well. Only a few years into practicing and he had built a small but impressive case record – That also served to make him a thorn in the eye of powerful people. He told his worried family that his wins in court would teach prosecutors not to rush into cases without enough evidence.
Despite all that however, his uncle had urged him to abstain from this case in particular.
Quite honestly, working this case was more hopeless than downing the entire ocean in one sip! Not only did the defendant have connections to every victim, but he had also failed to provide alibis for any of the murders, his digital tracking placed him at the locations of some of the bodies, and traces of him had been found on several of the victims. Wei Wuxian was doomed: He would be found guilty.
... And crimes of this magnitude had only one appropriate sentence. There was nothing for Lan Wangji to win him, the only kindness there was to offer would be a plea deal that would save everyone else the trouble of a trial.
---
“This will become the case to stain your career, Wangji,” His uncle’s mildly frustrated voice sounded through the phone, as Lan Wangji held it to his ear and neatly placed the papers back into his folder bag. He needn’t have reviewed on the way there, he knew all the details to a T, yet it never hurt to refresh himself.
“Hmm…” He hummed in response. He knew his uncle could easily tell the difference between this and his more affirmative hums, despite not reading him as well as Lan Xichen did. It was the most rebellious he would ever again be with his family, but a principle he stood by: He did not work for personal prestige, but for the justice of it. He had repeated this sentiment often to his uncle, whenever his fatherly care bubbled up to the surface in this gruff admonishing. Lan Wangji knew it was his uncle’s way of conveying affection, this worry.
“Just make sure to keep a level head as you go into this case. You would do no one any favors by trying to argue dishonestly to get a slight bit of leniency for such a person.” His uncle continued. They both knew Lan Wangji didn’t use bad faith arguments or underhanded techniques in his cases, so the warning fell a bit flat.
“Thank you Shufu, I shall keep this in mind.” He glanced out the door as it was opened for him. Honestly, he hated the theatrics of stepping out of a car this way; He was well capable of opening a car door himself. But such was the rules of the prison: He was only to move when allowed by the guards. Still, the gesture was too reminiscent of people who had become vain to fame – Pictures of purple fabrics and red carpets on TV quickly crossed his mind. He shook them off. He had little to do with that family anymore. In any case the prison entrance meeting him resembled little of a fancy award ceremony, so he could put the discomfort behind him. “I must go now. I have arrived. I will speak to you later.”
His uncle sighed, but they said their goodbyes and he slid the phone back into his pocket. He managed to glimpse his appearance quickly in its reflection, making sure he hadn’t shuffled his trimmed and carefully coiffed hair. He had once worn it longer like that boy full of laughter, but his image went a long way to let clients place trust in him; Someone put together, trustworthy. Sure, he had never failed in this regard, but that traditional hairstyle was so old fashioned that a young man wearing it nowadays would be more likely to do it in rebellion. His old friend sure did.
He was ushered through several thick gates in that fortress of a prison, before eventually, they strode to the end of an uninspiring corridor. The guard fiddled with the keycard and opened the door to the room Lan Wangji would meet with his client in. There were prison guards present outside the room, but their talk itself would be confidential. Not that the defendant would be able to harm him anyways; As Lan Wangji stepped into the room, he saw the slim figure of a young man slumped over the table, dressed in an unsightly prison uniform, and his hands cuffed to the table. His loose inky hair spilled over his shoulders and hid his face behind a dark curtain.
The guard rapped his knuckles on the iron door. “Your attorney is here.” He stated, though it didn’t rouse the man. He simply gave a slight nod to show he was, in fact, awake. Lan Wangji gestured to the guard, and the door was closed behind him, leaving only the two alone.
The stillness of the air was reminiscent of his own office, so he didn’t mind. The glaring light and metallic stench wasn’t, however. He placed his bag on the table and sat himself on the chair. The first thing on his list would be getting to know his client, what he responded to, his personality, wishes. It was the least comfortable part of his job – Lan Wangji was not a 'people person', and the first meeting, not knowing if the other party would be agreeable to his demeanor, was always awkward. Speaking first was not his favorite task either, so he braced himself, opened his mouth, and-
“I will not take a plea deal.” His client’s rough voice was faster than him. He didn’t exactly sound sick (though these circumstances could have easily provided health problems), but rather like a person who had cried. Or screamed. Maybe both.
Lan Wangji took a breath to affirm to his client they would discuss the different paths there would be forward, but once again, the tired voice was ahead of him.
“I am not guilty, and I will not lie and say that I am. You cannot make me.” He had yet to sit straight, muffling his rough voice as he pressed his forehead to the cold tabletop and clenched his fingers. He cleared his throat, though it did little to relieve the roughness. It sounded like a sea of frustration and hopelessness was being kept at bay. “If they wanna get me executed, I won’t be letting them do it to me without a fight - And I especially won’t just line myself in the shot.”
Lan Wangji nodded, though his client wouldn’t see that. He hadn’t come here to pressure for a plea deal, no matter the hopelessness of things, unless it was his client's wish. He took a breath, feeling like the pause was meant for him to reply and agree to these ground rules.
“I see.” He said. The young man before him didn’t shift, but rather, all motion left him. Lan Wangji paid it little mind. “So we will proceed with preparing for trial,” He turned to unclasp the buckles on his bag and pulled out the papers and folders. “We must go through the details. I will need to know what your version of the events are, so we can establish base facts.”
He took his rimless glasses from their holder and placed them on, shuffling to the right page. He noticed out the corner of his eye his client rose slowly. He clicked his pen to start taking notes.
“We will work out a plan for the trial - Who to call for witnesses, what experts to bring in - At later meetings. At first, you should tell your experiences from the beginning, tell me some general information on who you are, what you do in your everyday life, such things.” He tested the pen on a designated page, making sure the ink ran. “It will be easier to work together if we get to know each other better. I assume you have been told a little about me when I was assi-”
“Lan Zhan?”
…What.