A Quest for Justice
by Huina Zheng
part 1
Yao sat in a lavishly decorated private room, hosting three government officials. The wine glasses in their hands swirled gently. On the table, a variety of dishes were enticingly arranged: succulent pork belly, silky steamed eggs, savory Teochew fish ball soup, a vibrant platter of marinated meats, golden salt-baked chicken, ruddy roast duck, and a plate of stuffed tofu.
Yao stood up and raised his glass. “I must thank all of you; without your support and assistance, the brick factory wouldn’t run so smoothly.”
“Boss Yao, it’s really no trouble at all,” said a man with golden eyeglasses. “Your factory has significantly boosted our regional economy, and it’s only natural for us to support such vital enterprises.”
“You’re too kind, Boss Yao,” remarked a middle-aged man with a big belly.
“We’ve merely done our duty,” added a third, younger-looking man.
“Thank you once again, everyone. Let’s toast to our future cooperation,” Yao said, clinking his glass in the air as a signal to commence the toast.
The three government officials raised their glasses, clinking them with Yao’s, producing a chiming sound.
Bang! A loud noise, like a bomb exploding next to their ears, made everyone tense, and their glasses paused mid-air. Yao shifted his gaze from his glass to the second-floor window, trying to locate the source of the sound. Then he saw chaos on the street outside, with several people lying in the middle of the road.
He, along with the others, exited the Yue Rong dance hall. A crowd had gathered at the village entrance across the road, buzzing with discussion. The accident scene was chaotic; a blue three-wheeled motorcycle lay on its side, its metal carrier twisted and deformed like a crushed can. A wheel had come off, rolling to the side, with glass shards scattered all around. Several small stools, used as makeshift seats for passengers, were strewn about. A nearby coach also showed damage; its bumper was dented, and the headlights were shattered. More passengers disembarked, their faces filled with panic.
Yao strode forward, his heart sinking. Around the carrier, eight people were sprawled out in disarray. Two children were crying loudly, one of them, a three- or four-year old boy, sat on the ground, blood streaming from a wound on his forehead, his urine mingling with the blood on the ground.
Yao’s gaze then fell on Zhen, Wen’s wife. Her hair was disheveled like dry straw, one hand clutching her abdomen, which was soaked in dark red blood. She attempted to sit up but collapsed. Beside the coach stood a middle-aged man, his face full of panic and confusion, one hand trembling as he touched a swollen spot on his forehead. He seemed to be the coach driver.
His voice trembled as he murmured, “It was the three-wheeler that suddenly came out. It suddenly came out.”
“Hurry!” Yao shouted. “We need to get them to the hospital immediately!”
His gaze swept across the chaos, noticing the coach’s license plate beginning with “
N,” indicating it was from Haifeng County, Shanwei City. Realizing the urgency, he memorized the license plate number.
He turned and ran back to the Yue Rong dance hall, weaving through the crowd to reach the reception desk. He grabbed the telephone and dialed 110 to call the police. As soon as the call connected, he described the accident and its location to the dispatcher, requesting an immediate dispatch of an ambulance and traffic police.
The dispatcher’s response caused Yao’s heart to sink; the nearest ambulance and traffic police would take about an hour to reach the scene. But the accident victims couldn’t afford to wait for assistance; immediate action was needed. Yao then called the brick factory, and Sheng answered.
“There’s been an accident at the village entrance,” Yao told Sheng. “Wen’s wife and child are injured. I’m about to take them and the other victims to the People’s Hospital. Prepare to bring 20,000 yuan to the hospital soon. Also, inform Wen about the situation and assure him that we’ll take care of his family.”
Yao ended the call and rushed back to the accident site, now surrounded by even more onlookers. Since the driver had to wait for the traffic police to conduct an investigation, the coach was unable to leave and could not be used to transport the injured to the hospital.
Yao moved to the roadside, frantically waving his hands in the air. “Stop! Please stop! We need help!” he shouted, but vehicle after vehicle continued to zoom past, their tires screeching on the pavement, with none willing to slow down.
The onlookers observed his efforts, their gazes shifting between Yao and the passing vehicles. Some whispered among themselves, and others looked around, but no one stepped forward to assist him.
A wave of anger and helplessness surged through Yao. He could not, and would not, stand by and watch the victims suffer. Gritting his teeth, he walked into the middle of the road, his eyes focused on an approaching Isuzu truck.
The truck driver was startled as Yao suddenly appeared in front of him, causing him to slam on the brakes. The tires emitted a sharp screech, and the truck halted mere steps away from Yao.
Yao rushed to the truck’s cabin door and began pounding on it. “Open the door! Open it now!” he commanded with undeniable authority.
The driver, avoiding eye contact through the window, gripped the steering wheel, his hesitation palpable. Yao could feel every second ticking by, eating away at his dwindling patience. He stepped back, took a deep breath, and then, with all his might and frustration, slammed his fist into the door. The metal emitted a dull, hollow thud under the impact, and the door dented inward as if his strike would also shatter the driver’s hesitation.
“If you don’t open the door now, I’ll smash the window.” Yao’s voice was as firm as steel.
The driver’s hands trembled as he finally unlocked the door, which swung open with a click.
“Quick, get them on the truck!” Yao directed the onlookers. Together, they lifted the injured, moving step by step toward the truck’s nearly empty rear compartment.
Yao climbed into the vehicle, taking the passenger seat. “Hurry, to the People’s Hospital.”
The driver hit the gas, and the truck sped away.
* * *
An hour later, the tires screeched as the truck came to a sudden halt at the hospital entrance. Yao jumped out of the vehicle and strode toward the emergency room reception. About a dozen people were already in line, with the air tinged with the scent of disinfectant.
He bypassed the queue. “We need doctors now! There are eight people with serious injuries from a car accident.”
Murmurs of discontent arose from the queue. A middle-aged nurse looked up at him. “Sir, please wait your turn.”
“I understand, but lives are at stake. They need immediate attention.”
“You must pay the medical fees before we can administer treatment,” she responded indifferently.
“My partner is en route with the funds. Please start treating the injured; I assure you the payment will be complete.”
“Our hospital policy mandates that treatment cannot begin until the fees are settled.”
“I own the brick factory near Ritang Village. If I fail to pay, you can find me there.”
“Rules are rules, regardless of who you are.” The nurse then turned to address the people behind Yao: “Next, please.”
“Listen,” Yao said, his voice a mix of determination and plea, “could you at least bring the injured inside from the truck? Their condition is critical. I guarantee payment the moment my partner arrives.”
The nurse, maintaining her professional demeanor, nodded. “Bring the stretcher,” she instructed another nurse.
The hospital staff moved the stretcher to the truck and transferred the injured to the hospital beds.
Yao nodded at the truck driver, his gratitude evident despite the earlier confrontation. “Thank you, I truly appreciate it.”
The truck driver gave Yao a brief look, then at the patients receiving urgent care. “It’s okay, as long as they are alright.” He then returned to the cab, started the truck, and drove away.
Shortly afterward, Sheng rushed into the emergency room reception, holding an envelope. “Yao, I’ve brought the money.”
Yao took the envelope. “Sheng, your timing couldn’t be better.” He clapped Sheng on the shoulder and then turned to approach the reception desk. “Here is 20,000 yuan to cover the initial medical and treatment costs for these patients.”
The nurse counted the cash inside the envelope. “We will start the admission process and begin examinations and treatments for the injured.” Her voice now softened with a hint of warmth.
Hospital staff sprang into action; doctors began conducting thorough examinations of the injured, while nurses prepared the necessary medications and treatment equipment. Everything was carried out efficiently.
Yao and Sheng sat on the hard plastic chairs in the waiting area, discussing the day’s events. Their conversation fluctuated with the ambient sounds of the bustling hospital.
As the family members gradually arrived, the corridor of the waiting area became crowded. An elderly man, his forehead creased with wrinkles, clutched a worn straw hat. A middle-aged woman held a black plastic bag, with a piece of clothing peeking out. Four middle-aged men, their skin darkened from long hours in the fields, stood beside her, their expressions filled with concern.
Wen hurried into the hospital, scanning the crowd until his eyes met Yao’s. The family members congregated around Yao, who recounted the accident’s details and encouraged them to remain patient for the hospital’s official updates.
A masked doctor approached the group. The family members surrounded him, inquiring about their loved ones in Hakka.
“Doctor, how is my son?” The elderly man’s voice was trembling.
“Doctor, how are my wife and child?” a middle-aged man asked.
“All have received the necessary treatments and have been admitted,” the doctor replied in Mandarin. “Most injuries are superficial, a few involve fractures, and there are some mild concussions, but fortunately, there are no life-threatening conditions.”
Realizing the confused looks on the family members’ faces were due to the language barrier, the doctor repeated the explanation in Teochew dialect, yet the family members’ bewilderment persisted. He frowned.
“They don’t understand Teochew or Mandarin,” Wen interjected. When he translated the doctor’s words into Hakka, relief washed over the family members’ faces, and the middle-aged woman wiped away tears.
Guided by a nurse, the family members proceeded to the inpatient department. Yao, Sheng, and Wen remained behind.
Yao turned to Wen. “Leaders from the coach company will likely visit the hospital tomorrow to check on the injured. We must seize this opportunity.”
Wen nodded, awaiting further instructions.
“Prepare some ropes. As soon as he appears, you and the other family members must act swiftly, like hunters, and detain him. Don’t hesitate; take him back to the village. Show him our outrage until the company agrees to a settlement. They must realize that our villagers are not to be underestimated and that we won’t let this slide. Tell the family members it’s for our loved ones; we need to be firm.”
“But isn’t that illegal? Shouldn’t we leave it to the traffic police?” Sheng said.
Yao looked at Sheng with a mixture of disappointment and mild contempt. “How ridiculous, Sheng. Do you really think the world is fair? Do you believe the traffic police will side with us? Don’t be naive; money talks. These villagers are uneducated, impoverished and resourceless. How can they contend with the powerful and well-connected coach company? Remember the accident at the village entrance earlier this year? Three lives were lost, and what was done? It was suppressed, unresolved. Now, with only minor injuries, do you think they will care?”
Sheng’s face reddened. He opened his mouth as if to rebut but ultimately remained silent, defeated.
“So, Wen, you must heed my advice,” Yao declared. “Tomorrow, when that leader arrives at the hospital, you and others must be ready. It’s our only option, our only hope.”
Wen paused, then said, “I’ll discuss it with them tonight, although... I fear they might not agree...”
“If we don’t act, this issue will simply disappear. We’re up against a formidable adversary; extreme measures are necessary.”
The three men fell silent. Yao and Sheng left for the brick factory, while Wen walked toward the inpatient department, his steps heavy and slow.
* * *
Yao visited the People’s Hospital on the third day. Upon entering the ward, he found Wen sitting by the bed, appearing weary. Wen’s son, head wrapped in bandages, was playing with a toy car beside the bed. His wife was lying in bed with an IV in her arm, pale-faced but managing a weak smile at Yao’s arrival. “Yao, you’re here,” she said as Wen stood up.
Yao approached the bedside, placing a bag of apples and oranges on the bedside table. “How are your wife and child?”
“My son has only a scraped forehead, but it’s been taken care of. My wife suffered an abdominal stab wound, though the doctor said it’s not severe, and a minor concussion,” Wen explained as they stepped out of the ward. “She requires daily injections now, each costing several hundred yuan.”
In the corridor, they found a relatively quiet corner.
“Did the company’s leader come yesterday?” Yao asked.
“Yes, he came with a traffic officer named Wu, who is handling the accident.”
“What did they do?”
“Officer Wu assessed the situation briefly. The manager brought nothing, offered no financial aid, nor any condolences; he merely glanced at the injured at the ward door and left.”
“I warned you, and yet you still missed a great opportunity.”
“Others were too scared; how could I possibly manage to detain him on my own?”
“Wen, how can you be so timid and shortsighted like the other villagers? If it were me, even alone, I wouldn’t have let that manager leave. Such an opportunity won’t come again.”
Wen avoided Yao’s gaze, lowered his head, and remained silent. “But... we really didn’t know what to do. Many of the injured are being discharged today because they can’t afford the medical fees. To save money, they have to leave the hospital.”
“And your wife and child?”
“They’ll be discharged tomorrow,” Wen responded in a subdued tone. “You know our family situation. We... we really have no other choice.”
Yao sighed. “I received a call from Officer Wu yesterday, asking me to retrieve the 20,000 yuan that the brick factory had advanced to the hospital.”
“How can...? Who provided that money?”
“I’m not sure who it was, and I didn’t ask. It was probably from the coach company, passed to me through Officer Wu.”
Yao recalled the previous day’s sight of the families, unable to speak the official language, nodding submissively. How could they be expected to seek justice from the traffic police? This matter would likely fade away. His chest tightened and his body tensed. “I’ll ask Officer Wu how he intends to handle this matter.” It seemed he would have to intervene personally.
* * *
Copyright © 2024 by Huina Zheng
