SFS Chapter 1432 Yunrui's Sincere Dedication: How Can It Not Be Counted as Imprisonment?
Chapter 1432 Yunrui's Sincere Dedication: How Can It Not Be Counted as Imprisonment?
He originally thought that Yan Wanqing was able to find him at the Gu family's old house and had the confidence to persuade him to see Yan Taifeng, which must mean that she had already convicted this man and that his dirty past had been laid bare and subjected to legal judgment.
After all, he had focused on "interviews behind bars" for years, interviewing prisoners who had gone through trials and had their crimes confirmed. Those people, whether they confessed or made excuses in front of the camera, at least bore clear guilt, and were his predetermined interview targets. But the scene before him completely shattered his understanding.
Yan Taifeng was not tried, was not imprisoned, and there was not even a publicly available judgment.
He was simply put into this sanatorium by someone using a little force and some tricks, and in a way that was almost secretive, he found himself in a place where he never saw the light of day.
As soon as the thought popped into his head, Qi Ruixiang felt a wave of helplessness wash over him. He subconsciously touched the recorder in his pocket, feeling the familiar touch on his fingertips, but the confidence he usually had before an interview was gone.
Compared to those people in his archives who are nailed to the pillar of shame, Yan Taifeng is still "innocent" in a legal sense at this moment.
This was not within his scope of focus; his lens was aimed at those souls who had been punished and bore the burden of guilt, not at someone like this who had been imprisoned by lynching and had never even experienced a trial.
What is the point of interviewing such a person? It seems to contradict his original intention of "recording crime and punishment to sound the alarm."
But then, Qi Ruixiang gave a self-deprecating smile.
So what if he's innocent? So what if he's not convicted by law? This guy is now trapped in this tiny space, unable to move, and has no basic personal freedom.
He glanced up and swept his eyes across the tightly closed doors and windows on both sides of the corridor. The glass was covered with frosted paper, obscuring the outside world. The iron gate at the end of the corridor was tightly shut, and two expressionless caregivers stood at the door, like two guardian deities, guarding this hidden prison.
Why aren't the iron bars in the sanatorium considered iron bars?
Those welded railings, locked doors, and ever-watchful eyes are more suffocating than the high walls of a prison.
People in prison at least have a clear sentence and hope of seeing the light of day again, but what about Yan Taifeng? He is trapped in the identity of a "mentally ill patient" and doesn't even have the chance to defend himself. This silent imprisonment is far more cruel than a fixed-term prison sentence.
Moreover, what he was seeking was never just a legal conviction, but the truth behind his mother Qi Zhifang's death and the secrets behind the lives ruined by Yan Taifeng.
Even if the law fails to convict Yan Taifeng, and even if he remains nominally "innocent," the sins he carries will never disappear just because he hasn't been tried.
Is the principle of "recording crimes and punishments" that I have always upheld limited to prisoners after court pronouncements?
The “cage” before us, which has not been punished by law but has already been condemned by fate and people’s hearts, is perhaps more worthy of being recorded and can serve as a warning to the world.
The inner turmoil and confusion gradually dissipated, replaced by an unprecedented firmness. Qi Ruixiang withdrew his gaze, no longer hesitating, and without saying a word, pushed open the heavy hospital room door in front of him.
The creaking of the door hinges pierced the silent corridor, shattering the eerie tranquility of the ward. He walked in steadily, went straight to the bedside, and his gaze fell on the face that was both familiar and unfamiliar—it was Yan Taifeng, his blood father, and the key person in the truth he had been searching for for many years.
Yan Wanqing followed closely behind, her high heels clicking crisply and rhythmically on the floor, as if providing accompaniment for this belated confrontation. She walked to Qi Ruixiang's side and stood beside him, about a fist's distance apart. She stood directly in front of Yan Taifeng, forming an invisible barrier that kept the person on the hospital bed firmly within her sight.
Yan Taifeng, lying on the hospital bed, was struggling to twist his wrists, which were bound by straps. His cloudy eyes were filled with resentment and anger, and he occasionally let out suppressed growls, like a caged beast. But when he saw the two people who walked in, and saw Qi Ruixiang and Yan Wanqing standing side by side, he froze. His twisting movements stopped abruptly, and the growls in his throat ceased abruptly.
His eyes widened abruptly, his bloodshot pupils contracting sharply as he stared intently at the two people who should never have stood together. His face, already contorted with rage, became even more grotesque, veins bulging on his forehead, cold sweat trickling down his temples and soaking the white hair around his ears. He opened his mouth, as if to roar, but something seemed to be choking him, only managing to squeeze out broken, hoarse words through clenched teeth: "You...you...how could...be together..."
The restraints on his wrists and ankles had left dark red marks from his struggles, and now, overwhelmed by shock and anger, his body trembled uncontrollably, making those marks even clearer.
He couldn't believe his eyes. One was his daughter, and the other was his illegitimate son, whom he had never fulfilled his parental obligations to. These two people, whom he considered a stain on his life, whom he had deliberately abandoned and forgotten, were actually standing here hand in hand, looking down at him in his wretched state.
The humiliation of being betrayed by the people he cared about the least, and the despair of having his past pride and dignity utterly crushed, instantly swept over his entire body.
He stared intently at Qi Ruixiang, then abruptly turned to Yan Wanqing, his eyes filled with resentment, anger, and a barely perceptible fear, as if the people standing before him were not his children, but vengeful ghosts.
Despite Yan Taifeng's intense reaction, Qi Ruixiang's face remained expressionless, but his eyes grew increasingly deep, like a still lake.
He watched the man struggling on the hospital bed quietly, without anger or sympathy, only with an almost indifferent calm, as if everything before him was within his expectations.
His hands hung naturally at his sides, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing together—a habitual gesture when he was nervous. Yet, on the surface, he remained calm and composed, showing no sign of anything amiss.
Yan Wanqing, standing beside him, reacted quite differently. A faint, mocking, and gleeful smile curled at the corners of her lips, her eyes filled with cold indifference and a hint of barely perceptible excitement.
She watched Yan Taifeng's emotions shift from shock to anger, and then to despair. She felt no pity, but rather a sense of satisfaction at having avenged a great grudge.
She turned her head slightly and said to Qi Ruixiang beside her in a voice that only the two of them could hear, "Look at him now, isn't he quite interesting?"
Qi Ruixiang did not turn his head or respond; he remained in the same position, his gaze fixed on Yan Taifeng.
The air in the ward seemed to freeze, leaving only Yan Taifeng's heavy breathing and suppressed growls. The pale light from the incandescent bulbs shone on the three men, casting long, intertwined shadows that created a tense and eerie scene...