Chapter 4 — The Return of Attorney S

Three years ago, it was their arrogance that led them to victory. This time, however, that same arrogance would be their undoing. As the trial drew to a close, the judge announced that the date for the final verdict would be set shortly. Su Niem Dao remained seated at the defense table, motionless. Under the harsh courtroom lights, her lipstick appeared garish, yet the color of her face had drained into a sickly, bloodless pallor. Beside her, when Pho Dien Chi reached out to gather his documents, his hands were trembling. I closed my own files and rose from my chair. As I walked past them, I paused for a single, deliberate moment.

Lawyer Su, I said, three years ago you told me to thank you for my sacrifice.

She lifted her head sharply to look at me.

Now, I said, locking eyes with her, there is no need for thanks. I am taking it back myself.

The following day, the legal community was in an uproar.

The divorce case of Hoac Hanh has left the defense counsel humiliated in open court; they even miscalculated the date the trust fund was established.

I heard the defense attorney was Su Niem Dao, recently returned from abroad. Is she not the one who claimed she was destined for the International Court of Arbitration?

Who represented the plaintiff?

Lawyer S, Tham Tri Du.

Wait, Lawyer S is Tham Tri Du? The legendary figure with a record of forty-seven consecutive wins?

The speed at which the news spread exceeded my expectations. By that afternoon, the tone of the comments on Su Niem Dao’s social media post, which had previously boasted of an inevitable victory, had shifted entirely. Someone sent a screenshot to Lam Hu. She laughed so hard she slapped the desk.

Look at this, Lawyer Tham! Someone commented, Is this what you meant by an inevitable victory? And another one said, You should probably clarify the establishment date of the trust fund before posting on social media next time.

I did not read them. I had no interest. What I cared about was not the public discourse online; I cared about what would happen next. At six in the evening, my phone rang. It was Su Niem Dao. I answered.

Tham Tri Du, her voice was strained, vibrating with suppressed rage.

Lawyer Su.

You did this on purpose, didn't you?

Purposeful regarding what?

You deliberately chose not to point out my errors during the pre-trial conference, holding them back for the main hearing just to humiliate me in front of everyone.

I leaned back in my chair.

Lawyer Su, in a pre-trial conference, I have no professional obligation to proofread the opposing counsel’s work. You signed off on the evidence list without checking it yourself; are you blaming me for your own negligence?

The line went silent for several seconds. When Su Niem Dao spoke again, her voice had turned sharp and brittle.

Tham Tri Du, do not be so smug. This was only the first trial; the final judgment has not been rendered. I will file for additional evidence, and I will petition for a re-appraisal.

As you wish.

You…

Lawyer Su, I said, are you calling to inform me of your litigation strategy? Thank you, I have taken note of it.

You!

I hung up the phone. Setting the device down, I stared at the darkness beyond the window. I felt no thrill of victory. In truth, I felt absolutely nothing. When she destroyed my career years ago, I did not just lose a case. I lost my voice. For three months, I could not speak a word. I visited four different hospitals and underwent countless examinations. The doctors said my vocal cords were physically sound; the loss of voice was psychosomatic. In plain language, I had been traumatized. The fear and rage from being betrayed had clamped my throat shut. Three months later, my voice returned, but I could no longer return to the Thinh Hang law firm. Everyone in the industry knew I had abandoned the case before it began. No firm would hire me. I started from nothing. I moved to a new city, changed my identity, and took on the lowest-level legal aid cases. I fought them one by one. One year, two years, three years. Forty-seven consecutive wins. The name Lawyer S was something I carved out letter by letter over these past three years. So, no. Today’s events were not the finale. They were not even the climax. They were merely the beginning. What I want is not just to win a lawsuit. I want Su Niem Dao and Pho Dien Chi to lose everything, just as they did to me all those years ago.

The verdict was delivered. The plaintiff, Hoac Hanh, won the suit. The trust fund was not partitioned; the two pre-marital properties remained with Hoac Hanh, and the shares held in proxy were deemed not to be communal property. In the end, Hoac Hanh’s ex-wife received only one property acquired during the marriage and a small sum of savings. Out of a disputed value of forty-seven billion, the opposing side received less than eighty million. Su Niem Dao lost. She lost completely. The day the judgment was finalized, I received three messages. The first was from Hoac Hanh:

Lawyer Tham, thank you. I am hosting a celebratory dinner tonight.

The second was from Lam Hu:

Lawyer Tham! The client Su Niem Dao represented has already sent a formal legal notice, seeking to hold her liable for professional malpractice! They are claiming she was negligent!

The third was from Pho Dien Chi. It was very long.

Tri Du, I know I have failed you over these past few years. Regarding what happened back then, I had my own burdens to bear. Niem Dao was just starting her career; if she had not won that case, she would have been fired. I had no other choice. I know this is no excuse, but I want to apologize to you in person. Can you give me a chance?

I finished reading.