On the other side, after Henry and Edward arrived at Anlu County, they were taken by the prison officers to the county jail for placement. However, it wasn’t a cell, but rather the guest quarters of the county jail, which was said to be specially prepared for people like them who “turned themselves in.” The room wasn’t big, but it was fairly clean. There were two straw mats on the floor for them to rest on, but they couldn’t move about freely—even going to the latrine required supervision. They were provided with two meals a day—of course, it was just the coarsest unpolished rice.

Edward was very uneasy. While Henry rested with his eyes closed, Edward kept pacing back and forth, worrying about this and that. After a while, he suddenly asked:

“Brother Henry, do you think that official Xi will handle the case impartially?”

“He probably will…” Henry replied absentmindedly, lying on the straw mat.

When he heard the name “Xi” reported, he was also slightly surprised. He remembered from TV programs in his previous life that the greatest discovery from the Yunmeng Qin bamboo slips wasn’t the letter from “Henry” to his family, but rather the coffin of an Anlu county official named “Xi,” which was packed full of copied Qin laws. This opened the door to the Qin dynasty for archaeologists…

Aside from the more than a thousand bamboo slips personally copied by Xi that were scattered about, there were no other valuable burial items in the coffin, which showed just how much this civil servant loved his work.

A person like that probably wouldn’t pervert the law, right?

It was almost laughable—at this point, Henry could only pin his hopes on the fairness and justice of Qin law.

Night had fallen, and the two of them drifted off to sleep in a daze. Unexpectedly, someone suddenly pushed the door open from outside!

Henry quickly got up. A faint light shone in from outside, and he saw a kindly-faced minor official in black clothes, holding a brush and a knife for sharpening. His attire was practically a replica of the “civil official figurine” from the Terracotta Army.

Seeing Edward and Henry salute him, the minor official smiled and said, “No need for formalities. I’m just a lowly official in charge of food rations, not really an officer. You two can sit and talk.”

So Henry and Edward knelt on the straw mats, and the prison officer, who introduced himself as “Le,” sat across from them. He set up a small wooden rack to hold bamboo slips on the table, lit an oil lamp, yawned, and began the routine questioning.

The questions were nothing more than the names, identities, and places of origin of Henry and Edward. Most importantly, whether they had any previous criminal record!

“No, absolutely not!” Edward shook his head like a rattle-drum.

Henry also said that there were three brothers in his family, all good citizens and soldiers, and none had ever done anything illegal.

“That’s good.” Le smiled, but his words sent a chill down their spines.

“If you have a previous offense and deliberately conceal it, once the county assistant notifies the township and the village finds out, it will be very bad for you!”

The two of them still insisted they had never broken the law, so Le let the matter drop.

After a while, Henry couldn’t help but ask, “Officer, the two of us are here to serve our conscription, and the final deadline is the first day of the tenth month. If we miss the service period…”

Le reassured him, “You don’t need to worry about conscription. The county assistant has already sent a document to the county commandant explaining the situation. Just cooperate with the investigation.”

Le also told them that after today’s questioning was recorded, the information would be sent to their place of origin for verification, and the township and village would be required to reply in writing—this was called a “yuan shu.” Not only the plaintiffs, but the defendants would go through the same process. Once everyone’s identity was confirmed, the formal trial would begin.

Henry asked, “May I ask, officer, about how many days until the trial?”

Le smiled and said, “The thief’s registered place of origin isn’t far, just in the neighboring county. The yuan shu will only take two days for a round trip. If nothing unexpected happens, the trial can begin in three days. At that time, as those who turned yourselves in, you’ll confront the accused in court, explain the course of events, list witnesses and physical evidence, and then cross-examine each other…”

Henry was stunned. Huh? So in Qin trials, the plaintiff and defendant argue with each other, the court listens quietly, and then makes a decision.

So, both sides have to act as their own lawyers and engage in a battle of words?

This was something Henry hadn’t expected. His impression of ancient trials was all from period dramas, where the upright magistrate would slam the gavel and have the criminals beaten with thick sticks…

Finally, as the minor official Le was leaving, he left them with a parting remark.

“When the time comes, you only need to state the facts truthfully. Never lie! Remember, remember!”

After the door closed again, Edward began to worry. Although he had heard some legal knowledge from the local minor officials—especially about what fines were imposed for which offenses—he had never been involved in a lawsuit or faced someone in court.

“What should we do?” he looked at Henry and asked.

“Just let it be!”

But Henry simply lay down and went to sleep.

From this, it was clear that the Qin state truly deserved its reputation for Legalism—trials were conducted strictly by the book, with their own rules, not according to the whims of the officials.

Not to mention that they had the advantage in this case—back in his previous life at the police academy, he had taken interrogation classes and attended many court hearings. Wasn’t it just confronting the accused? What was there to be afraid of!

For a moment, Henry actually began to look forward to the “trial” in three days.

……

In most people’s imagination, ancient trials probably went like this: