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

In the following days, the online buzz not only didn't subside, but actually intensified.

The hashtag "Yongcheng Case" remained on the trending topics list for four whole days.

You can easily find clips of that surveillance video on TikTok by scrolling through just a few videos. They're all accompanied by sentimental background music and bold subtitles—"If it were your wife, would you kill her?"

Someone dug up photos of the bald man before his death. His bald head was shiny, he had a big gold chain around his neck, and his social media was full of photos of him drinking beer and having barbecue.

The comments section was filled with people saying he deserved to die.

Then someone dug up photos of the couple—the small supermarket was located in the suburbs, and the couple rented a storefront and lived in a partitioned room behind the supermarket.

The woman in the photo has her hair in a ponytail and is wearing a faded apron, making her look much older than her actual age.

Her husband was thin and wore glasses; he didn't look like someone who could chop people up.

This caused an even bigger uproar in public opinion.

The labels "ordinary person," "honest person," and "bullied person" instantly resonate with netizens.

A blogger went to the entrance of that small supermarket to do a live broadcast, pointing the camera at the seal on the roller shutter door, and the number of viewers exceeded 200,000.

The comments section was filled with candle and blessing emojis.

Someone even wrote a song called "Yongcheng Never Goodnight," a guitar-accompanied song with a rough recording, but it went viral and became the number one trending topic on NetEase Cloud Music overnight.

The official Weibo account of Yongcheng City Procuratorate has closed its comment section.

Local social media outlets are still publishing, one article a day, each with over 100,000 views, and each headline is more sensational than the last.

......

These past few days, Lin Mo hasn't done anything but sit in his office writing scripts.

Five days later, in the afternoon, Lin Mo finished typing the last word.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the dense text on the screen, his eyes feeling a little sore.

The script isn't long, only about a hundred pages, but the story is tight and there are no unnecessary scenes.

He finally wrote four words on the cover: "Article Twenty".

Two lines down, a line of smaller text was added: "Dedicated to everyone who believes in the law."

Print it out and bind it.

Lin Mo took the script, still warm from the printer, upstairs.

The door to Prosecutor Zhao's office was ajar.

Lin Mo knocked twice and pushed the door open. When he entered, Zhao Jian was wearing reading glasses and looking at a document.

Seeing the thick stack of documents in Lin Mo's hand, he took off his glasses: "You finished writing so quickly?"

"It's finished." Lin Mo put the script on the table.

Zhao Jian didn't speak, but picked up the script and turned to the first page.

The office fell silent, save for the sound of turning pages.

Zhao Jian read very slowly, sometimes pausing for several minutes on a single page, and sometimes flipping back to read it again.

His face didn't show much change in expression, but when he turned to a few pages, he would tap his fingers lightly on the paper twice—a habitual gesture when he was thinking.

After more than ten minutes, Zhao Jian closed the script.

Instead of giving a direct evaluation, he took off his reading glasses, held them in his hand, looked at Lin Mo, remained silent for several seconds, and then said, "What you wrote wasn't a script, it was a direction."

He stood up, picked up the script, and walked out. At the door, he turned back and glanced at Lin Mo: "You come too."

Zhang Jian's office is at the end of the corridor.

Zhao knocked twice and pushed the door open to enter. Zhang was standing in front of the bookshelf, flipping through a thick compilation of laws. Seeing the two of them come in together, he turned around and asked, "Old Zhao, what's up?"

"Prosecutor Zhang, Xiao Lin's script is finished." Prosecutor Zhao placed the script on his desk.

Zhang Jian sat back in his chair and turned to the first page.

He didn't show any change in expression throughout the entire process, and didn't say a single word.

By the time Inspector Zhang finished reading, it was already dark outside.

He closed the script, offered no direct comment, and instead stood up and walked to the window.

Outside the window, the lights of Yanjing were shining brightly in every household.

After a moment of silence, he spoke: "This movie isn't about a case; it's about the law itself."

"Yes."

Zhang Jian turned to look at Lin Mo, his gaze deep and his tone unusually solemn: "This film cannot involve only the procuratorate. The script is about prosecutors, but judges, police officers, lawyers—every link in the chain is involved. I'll communicate with the Supreme People's Court to get them involved as well. This isn't just my decision—President Zhou said in his work report at the Two Sessions that the people should feel fairness and justice in every judicial case, and this film is doing just that."

Prosecutor Zhao stood up straight beside him: "Prosecutor Zhang, I agree. Self-defense is the biggest issue in the entire political and legal system. The three departments working together will have different levels of impact."

"Okay." Prosecutor Zhang sat down again. "This project is a joint effort by the Supreme People's Procuratorate, the Supreme People's Court, and the Ministry of Public Security."

Zhao Jian nodded, then turned to look at Lin Mo standing beside him and asked, "Lin, do you have confidence?"

Lin Mo looked at the two gray-haired leaders and said in a low but steady voice, "Yes."

Zhang Jian looked at him, his lips twitched, and a faint smile appeared on his face. Then he waved his hand and said, "Alright, go back and prepare. This case is still online; the public can't wait much longer."

Lin Mo left Prosecutor Zhang's office; half the lights in the corridor were already on.

Zhao Jian walked alongside him for a while before stopping at the elevator entrance.

"In the script, Han Ming's son asks him, 'Dad, are you helping the good people or the bad people?' Han Ming says that the law does not distinguish between good and bad people, but between legal and illegal. That scene was well written. What is most touching is not the grand principles, but the inner struggle of the grassroots law enforcement officers themselves."

Lin Mo nodded but didn't reply.

Zhao Jian pressed the elevator button, then added, "By the way, do you have any ideas about the actors?"

Lin Mo thought for a moment: "The role of Han Ming needs an actor who can convince the audience—not the handsome type, but an ordinary person who you can't recognize in a crowd, but who can convince people as soon as he opens his mouth."

"Who?"

"Reijain".

Zhao Jian was clearly not very familiar with these celebrities; he simply nodded after hearing this.

The elevator arrived, and before stepping inside, Prosecutor Zhao turned back and said, "Alright, go back and rest. You haven't been sleeping much these past few days writing the script, have you? You've got dark circles under your eyes."

Lin Mo touched his eyes and smiled.

The elevator doors closed, and he stood there for a while before taking out his phone. He saw that the top trending topic on Weibo was still the same one: #LatestDevelopmentsInYongchengCase#.

He glanced at it and put the phone in his pocket.

Starting tomorrow, we'll assemble the team and select actors.