159: Chapter 159 Determining the Truth

"Please submit the truth."

This sentence echoed repeatedly in the courtroom.

It sounded like it was offering a way out.

But everyone knew this door was even narrower.

It did not want tears, nor did it want anyone to pat their chest and say, "I believe." It wanted time, locations, testimony, and relics; it wanted to know who saw what and who bore what burden.

The Arbiter stood in the cleared center, looking at the scattered remnants of files on the ground.

He had never liked "belief."

Belief was too light; paper could too easily turn against you, and people were too prone to misremembering when in a rush. But this time, he suddenly understood that what the procedure was truly meant to do was not to compress people into numbers.

It was to ensure that even in the most chaotic times, the truth still had a place to land.

"Give me paper," he said.

Tang Zhiwei glanced at him: "What are you trying to do?"

"Submit evidence."

Zhao Ye frowned: "You dare to use its paper?"

The Arbiter flipped over a black remnant page; the back was blank.

"It wants the truth."

"Then write the truth."

Lu Chen did not stop him.

In Xinhuo Hall, the three-city fire map was still glowing, and the lingering resonance of the second bell chime acted like a thin shell, temporarily shielding them from the pen tip of the Court of No Return.

There was not much time.

The Arbiter wrote about Chen Fu first.

He did not write about heroes, nor did he write about sacrifice.

He wrote:

[Chen Fu, Candidate. During the Qinghe Safe House warehouse door incident, he drove a forklift to hold back the spread of the yellow line. His actions resulted in his own death, ensuring the evacuation of the personnel inside the Safe House.]

After writing, he paused.

He added another sentence.

[His death does not constitute a violation of operational procedures.]

The black remnant page did not react immediately.

Tang Zhiwei spread out Chen Fu's inventory lists, warehouse door seal records, and evacuation rosters one by one. Lin Zhao added the witness testimony from the scene at the time. Xu Minglan submitted the list of injured personnel received by rescue workers. None of them were perfect; some had misaligned times, blurry handwriting, or missing records.

But they interlocked with one another.

It wasn't about someone covering for someone else.

It was many fragments of truth pieced together to form the image of a person who had once stood there.

The Torch Inscription lit up.

Chen Fu's name stabilized beneath the stone monument.

The Arbiter then wrote about Han Yue.

[Han Yue, Jiangbei Candidate. Unauthorized departure from the Safe House, entering the underground of Liuqiao Old Station. His actions violated the Candidate code.]

Chen Jue's breath hitched.

The Scroll Keeper's pen tip lifted, as if waiting for him to write "dereliction of duty."

But The Arbiter continued writing:

[Subsequently, Han Yue identified the Liuxia entrance, left behind a list of missing persons and the coordinates of the entrance, and halted the spread.]

[His death, and the violation of rules, shall not erase his contributions.]

Chen Jue lowered his head and said nothing.

He had never dared to admit that Han Yue had truly made a mistake.

But portraying Han Yue as a perfect person would also be stealing away that last bit of truth about him.

"He is not a Saint," Chen Jue suddenly said.

The Arbiter looked up.

"He was afraid of forgetting again," Chen Jue looked at the line of text, his voice tight, "He was also afraid that we would lock him up, and he wouldn't be able to do anything."

"He did wrong."

"But he didn't mean to hurt anyone."

As these words fell, Han Yue's name lit up in the Torch Inscription.

It wasn't whiter.

It was steadier.

Lu Chengzhi, Liang Cheng, and those ordinary people who couldn't return were also written down one by one.

The line for Liang Cheng was the shortest.

[Liang Cheng, ordinary person. Went missing during the Xiqiao Temporary Stop incident, could not be rescued.]

The Arbiter wrote very slowly.

"Is there nothing more?" The Scroll Keeper spoke for the first time.

The Arbiter looked at it.

"Nothing."

"He had no ability, no contribution, and he didn't change the rules."

"He delivered a takeout order," The Arbiter said, "He deserves to have a name too."

The Court of No Return fell silent.

On the black files, those names written as "Pending Trial," "Dereliction of Duty," or "No Record" began to crack open one by one. It wasn't being crudely burned away by fire, but rather like fake ink on old paper being washed away by rain, revealing the original text underneath.

After Lu Chen stepped into the Court of No Return, The Scroll Keeper did not immediately retreat.

The hand inside the black robe's sleeve was still holding the pen, but the tip could not be lifted, pressed down by the lingering resonance of the bell. It looked at Lu Chen's Fire-Holding Incarnation, as if looking at an unfinished file.

"You preserve records with fire," it said, "Fire will go out."

"It will," Lu Chen answered calmly.

"People will forget."

"They will."

"Witnesses will die."

"They will too."

The Scroll Keeper's black robe stirred slightly, as if it had finally caught a loophole.

But Lu Chen continued: "That is why we cannot keep only one copy."

After the Torch Inscription lit up, the stone monument, the Grey Net, handwritten records in reality, relics in the hands of families, and names repeated in the settlement points began to respond to one another. They were not some indestructible miracle, but they made it so that a single lie could no longer completely erase a person.

The Arbiter watched those pieces of evidence being lifted one by one by the firelight, and suddenly pressed the black remnant page onto the judgment table.

"You ask who can prove it," he said.

"It is not one person."

"It is everyone who still remembers."

As these words fell, the most ordinary scenes emerged above the courtroom: Chen Fu checking seals in the warehouse, Lu Chengzhi parking the car into the Safe House, Liang Cheng carrying a takeout box through a rainy night, Han Yue lowering his head to write, his handwriting very ugly.

No one was gilded into a god.

But no one was just a conclusion in a file that could be twisted at will anymore.

The Scroll Keeper finally lifted its pen, aiming it at Lu Chen.

"You admit that you cannot save everyone."

"I admit it."

"You admit that some people died because of Torch missions."

"I admit it."

"Then on what grounds do you leave their names behind?"

Deep within the Fire Map, Lu Chen's figure stepped out from the firelight of Xinhuo Hall, one step at a time.

This was not the fleeting projection used to suppress the scene in Linhai.

The anchors of the three cities simultaneously supported his silhouette. Grey-white Purifying Flame spread out beneath his feet; as he stepped into the Court of No Return, his clothes, knuckles, and gaze no longer resembled a blurred phantom.

The Fire-Holding Incarnation stood firmly in Qinghe for the first time.

Outside the Archives, Gu Xingzhou and a group of officials looked up and saw that figure walking out of the doorless darkness. Ordinary people at the street corner saw it too.

Some did not know who he was.

They only saw someone raise a hand in front of the black door frame, catching a page of the file.

"Because they lived," Lu Chen reached out and caught that page of the file.

"And made their own choices."

"Those who didn't return should not be used by you to strike those who are still living."

The Scroll Keeper's pen tip descended.

Lu Chen raised his other hand.

The Torch Inscription rose simultaneously from the stone monument, the Lamp-Keeping Zone, and the three-city fire points.

In the firelight, there were no medals, nor were there portraits.

There were only paths that had been truly walked.

From the takeout order Liang Cheng never delivered, to Lu Chengzhi's hands gripping the steering wheel; from the notes Han Yue left behind, to the keys in Chen Fu's warehouse; from the steps where Wu once stood in the rain, to every person still calling out the names of their loved ones in the settlement points.

The lingering resonance of the second bell chime vibrated outward once more.

This time, the bell's shadow did not suppress a black line.

It was The Scroll Keeper's hand that held the pen.

Lu Chen looked at it.

"You may judge the facts."

"Do not pass judgment for others."

The black file split down the middle.