"No further questions."
Zhou Mei tried to challenge the chain of custody, tried to suggest the vial could have been planted, but the examiner shut down every attempt with cold facts and unshakeable certainty.
Mrs. Lan was called next, and Shuyin felt her heart break a little more. The housekeeper had been with the family for twenty years.
She had watched Shuyin grow up. And now she sat in the witness box, unable to meet Shuyin's eyes.
"Mrs. Lan," the prosecutor began gently, "can you describe Miss Lin's behavior in the days leading up to her grandmother's death?"
Mrs. Lan twisted her hands in her lap. "She seemed... troubled and distracted. She spent a lot of time in her room, and yes, she did collect her grandmother's medication three days before... before it happened."
"Did you notice anything unusual about the grandmother's condition during those three days?"
"The old mistress seemed tired. More tired than usual. She complained of feeling weak, of her heart feeling strange. But we thought it was just her age, you know? She was eighty-three years old..."
"And on the night of the incident, what did you hear?"
Mrs. Lan's voice dropped to almost a whisper. "I heard raised voices from the kitchen. Not angry, exactly, but... intense. They sounded emotional. Miss Shuyin was crying very loudly. And then... and then the old mistress cried out, and Miss Shuyin started screaming for help."
"Raised voices," the prosecutor repeated, pacing in front of the jury. "Emotional intensity. And then, conveniently, the grandmother has a fatal heart attack. Mrs. Lan, in your twenty years with the family, had you ever heard Miss Lin speak to her grandmother in such a manner before?"
"No. Never. Miss Shuyin was always so gentle with her Popo."
"So this was unusual behavior. Out of character." The prosecutor let that hang in the air. "Almost as if she was deliberately causing stress to trigger the final, fatal event after days of systematic poisoning. No further questions."
Zhou Mei stood for cross-examination, her face flushed. "Mrs. Lan, you said Miss Lin was crying. Doesn't that suggest she was the one who was upset, not the one causing upset?"
"I... I suppose so, yes."
"And when you entered the kitchen, what was Miss Lin doing?"
"She was holding her grandmother. Crying and begging her to hold on."
"Does that sound like the behavior of someone who wanted her grandmother dead?"
Mrs. Lan's eyes finally met Shuyin's, and there was genuine distress there. "No. It doesn't. But I don't understand any of this. I just don't understand."
"No further questions."
But the damage was done. The jury had heard what they needed to hear.
Mr. Feng was called next, and he described the frantic drive to the hospital with the same pain evident in his weathered face. But even his testimony was somehow twisted.
"Would you say Miss Lin appeared panicked?" the prosecutor asked.
"Yes. Very much so."
"Almost as if she was surprised by how quickly her grandmother was dying? As if perhaps the poison had worked faster than she'd anticipated?"
"Objection your Honor!" Zhou Mei jumped up. "Those are speculation!"
"Sustained," Judge Chen said wearily. "The jury will disregard that last question."
But it was too late. The idea had been planted, and Shuyin could see it taking root in the jurors' faces.
The financial expert came next, a man in an expensive suit who laid out Shuyin's inheritance in excruciating detail. Fifty million yuan. Properties in three cities. Investment portfolios that were worth another twenty million.
The numbers grew and grew until the courtroom was practically salivating at the motive.
"Was Miss Lin aware of these inheritance provisions?" the prosecutor asked.
"Yes. The will was drafted two years ago and reviewed with all primary beneficiaries, including Miss Lin. She would have known exactly what she stood to gain."
Shuyin wanted to scream that she had barely paid attention during that meeting, that she'd been thinking about her upcoming charity gala, that she'd never imagined her grandmother dying as anything but a distant, terrible someday. But Zhou Mei's hand on her arm kept her silent.
The parade of witnesses continued. A toxicology expert explained how rare the poison was, how difficult it was to obtain, suggesting inside knowledge or connections.
A handwriting analyst confirmed that the signatures on the medication pickup forms were Shuyin's. Even Shuyin's wedding planner was called, testifying about the abrupt cancellation and Shuyin's "emotional state" in the days before her grandmother's death.
Each witness added another brick to the wall they were building around her. By the time the prosecution rested its case, that wall was complete, solid, towering, and inescapable.
"Defense, you may present your case," Judge Chen said.
Zhou Mei stood up, and Shuyin could see the defeat already creeping into her posture. What defense did they have? No witnesses to call except Shuyin herself.