We asked you to make an anti-corruption film, but you made one in the name of the people!

It was almost 11 p.m. when Lao Zhou finally got his son to sleep.

The little guy is four years old this year and has boundless energy, like he's got a motor inside him. Every night before bed, he jumps on the bed for half an hour, shouting "Ultraman, transform!" Old Zhou has to stand next to him like a monster, getting hit with a pillow several times before he'll stop.

Today was alright; I only jumped around for twenty minutes before collapsing. The moment the pillow touched my head, I started snoring.

Old Zhou tucked the blanket around his son, quietly closed the door, went to the kitchen, took a can of beer from the refrigerator, and collapsed onto the sofa in the living room.

This is the most comfortable time of his day.

His wife was watching TV in the bedroom, and his son was asleep. No one was calling him to do anything, so he could quietly scroll through his phone for a while.

Only one floor lamp was on in the living room, and its warm yellow light made the whole room a bit dim.

On the coffee table were several packets of uncollected cookies and half an uneaten apple. The TV was off, and the remote control had fallen into the sofa cushions, but he was too lazy to pick it up.

Old Zhou took a sip of beer, opened Douyin (TikTok), and mechanically swiped his thumb upwards.

A beautiful woman dances—and then slides away.

Live-streaming sales – slide away.

A man opened a bottle cap with his foot—Old Zhou paused for a second, then slid away.

Then he came across a video.

The picture shows a large group photo, with a bunch of people crammed together. The background looks like a conference room, and the national emblem is hanging in front.

The accompanying text reads: "The film 'Article 20' wrapped up filming today, focusing on legitimate self-defense, emphasizing that the law cannot yield to illegality."

Old Zhou stopped.

He recognized the words under the banner: Yongcheng County Procuratorate.

He paused for a moment, then sat up straight.

Article 20?

justifiable defense?

Old Zhou put the beer on the coffee table, paused the video, and stared at the group photo on the screen for several seconds.

A group of people were gathered together, with a young man in the middle wearing a dark blue jacket and a calm expression.

There was a group of actors standing around me—some I knew, some I didn't.

Old Zhou scrolled down the comments.

Old Zhou didn't like or comment; he just stared at the video for a long time.

Yongcheng.

He's not the kind of Yongcheng person you see online—most Yongcheng people online work in other places and only share news from their hometown.

Old Zhou is different.

He is a genuine Yongcheng native who lives in Yongcheng.

That small supermarket was right next to the apartment complex where his mother-in-law lived.

On the night of the incident, his wife was helping pack things at her mother's house, which was less than 300 meters away from the supermarket.

The next morning, when his wife called him to tell him about it, her voice was trembling—"Old Zhou, something happened at that supermarket last night."

He was on his way to work when his electric scooter was parked on the side of the road, and he heard the whole story.

After hanging up the phone, he squatted by the roadside for a while before getting back on his bike.

Yongcheng has changed a lot in the past two months.

People online are saying that Yongcheng has become famous now—but nobody wants this kind of fame.

When neighbors chatted about the case, they all lowered their voices.

"His wife was being bullied, and he did it all for her sake. Why arrest him?"

Then everyone sighed, twirled their teacups in their hands several times, and no one said anything more.

Old Zhou has also argued with people online quite a bit.

Then, he re-opened the video and watched it from beginning to end again.

He saw the actress named Zhao Liying.

The comments section said that the character she played was based on the supermarket owner's wife.

In the picture, she is wearing an old T-shirt so worn that its original color is no longer discernible, her hair is messy, and her face is so thin that her cheekbones protrude.

Old Zhou was stunned for a moment—this was a completely different person from the Zhao Liying he saw on TV.

Someone in the comments explained that in order to play the role well, she found a deaf-mute teacher and learned sign language for more than two months.

Old Zhou took a sip of beer and thought to himself: This actor really put his heart into it.

He read the comment section again, and it was the same sentence that everyone was saying: "The law cannot yield to illegality."

Old Zhou wasn't very educated.

After graduating from junior high school, I went to work as an apprentice in a car repair shop. Now I'm in my early thirties and work as a mechanic in a car repair shop. All I ever have on my hands is engine oil.

He doesn't pay much attention to the news broadcast, nor can he understand those convoluted policy documents.

But he understood the saying that the law cannot yield to illegality.

Just eight characters.

The law cannot back down to the party that bullies the other.

"What are you looking at?" My wife came out of the bedroom, wearing pajamas, her hair messy and wrapped in a headband, and she still had a face mask on.

She walked to the sofa, sat down, picked up the half apple on the coffee table, and took a bite.

Old Zhou handed her the phone.

His wife took it, glanced at it, then looked up again: "A movie? Is it about that thing that happened here?"

Her voice suddenly rose, and her face mask crumpled, "Are you done taking pictures?"

"They say it's going to be released soon."

When will it start?

"I don't know, we just finished filming."

His wife tossed the apple core onto the coffee table, handed the phone back to Old Zhou, and then reached for a tissue to wipe her hands: "Are we going to go see it?"

Old Zhou didn't say anything.

My wife repeated, "I'm asking you if you're going to go see it or not."

"You want to see it?"

"Look, why don't you look?" The wife crumpled the tissue into a ball and threw it into the trash can, leaning against the sofa armrest. "That boss lady was bullied like that, and her husband went in and attacked her with a knife. If I were in her shoes, I would have done the same—but the law says no. I want to see what the law actually says."

Old Zhou turned his head and noticed that his wife's eyes were a little red.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," my wife sniffed, her voice muffled. "I just remembered that shopkeeper. Last time we went to the supermarket, she helped our son find a balloon. She searched for ages, didn't you remember?"

Old Zhou hasn't forgotten.

That time, he took his son to the supermarket to buy things, and his son insisted on having the kind of balloon hanging on the top shelf.

He couldn't reach it, so the proprietress stepped on a stool to help him get it down and then bent down to put it in her son's hand.

The son said thank you, Auntie, and the landlady smiled and patted his head.

Old Zhou put his phone on the coffee table, finished the last bit of beer in the can, crushed it, and threw it into the trash can.

"When it's released, let's go see it together," he said.

Who will take care of the child?

"Have your mom watch the house for a day." Old Zhou stood up, turned off the floor lamp, and said, "Go to sleep."

......

The next morning, Lin Mo took the earliest high-speed train back to Yanjing.

Old Zhao stayed in Langfang to handle the final touches—dismantling the scenery, returning the equipment, and settling the venue fees. Old Zhao was familiar with these things, so he didn't need to worry about them.

We arrived in Yanjing at 8:30 in the morning.

Lin Mo went home, put down his luggage, changed into a clean shirt, and went straight to the Supreme People's Procuratorate.

He went back to his office first. There was a stack of documents on his desk, with several briefings awaiting review on top. Next to them was a note left by Lao Han—Han Zhengming's handwriting was as stiff as his personality, with straight lines: "Come back and find me, and report on the situation of Article 20."

Lin Mo put down the note, straightened his shirt collar, and went upstairs.

The door to Lao Han's office was open.

Lin Mo knocked twice on the doorframe. Old Han, who was looking down at documents, didn't even look up: "Come in."

"Director Han."

Old Han then looked up, took off his glasses, and sized him up: "You've lost weight. Are the boxed lunches from Langfang not working out?"

"good."

"It's alright, but not really." Old Han put his glasses back on, pointed to the chair opposite him, and said, "Sit down. Is the filming finished?"

"Filming is finished. Post-production will take about twenty days, and it should be released in January!"

Old Han nodded, picked up his teacup, took a sip, and said unhurriedly, "Prosecutor Zhao asked you about it yesterday. He said that Prosecutor Zhang mentioned in a meeting a couple of days ago that 'Article 20' has finished filming and he wants to go see the premiere."

Lin Mo was taken aback: "Prosecutor Zhang? Going to the premiere?"

"What, it's not okay?" Old Han put down his teacup.

"No... Prosecutor Zhang is extremely busy..."

"Even with a lot of important matters to attend to, you still have to watch a movie." Old Han stood up, picked up the note from the table, crumpled it up, and threw it into the trash can. "This film is a joint production of three companies. Popularizing the law on legitimate self-defense is one of the key tasks of the political and legal system this year. Prosecutor Zhang went to the premiere not to show his support, but to make a statement."

"When you were filming this movie, Prosecutor Zhang had two phone conversations with President Zhou of the Supreme People's Court to discuss judicial practice issues related to legitimate self-defense. Do you think the three parties' collaboration was just empty talk? It was something that was seriously studied by higher authorities."