Because the evidence against Chen Li was overwhelming, the trial did not drag on the way most high-profile cases did. There were no dramatic twists, no last-minute revelations. The forensic reports, the preserved dress stained with Ling Mu's blood, the corroborated timelines, the financial trails, and Hua Jing's testimony had formed a chain so tight that even the most seasoned defense lawyers could not pry it apart.
By noon, arguments had concluded.
Sentencing was scheduled for the afternoon.
Hua Jing and Fu Jingrong waited in a small adjacent room, quiet and almost suffocating in its stillness. The walls were plain, the fluorescent lights harsh. A clock ticked steadily above the door, each second stretching far longer than it should have.
Hua Jing sat with her hands folded in her lap, staring at nothing in particular.
What unsettled her more than the trial itself was one glaring absence.
Hua Ling.
