Fang Zimo's side started fighting back.

Three days after his contract was terminated, his attorney filed a lawsuit against Su Ming for defamation — claiming the copyright traceability report Su Ming had published "incited the public to online harassment and commercial slander against him." When the news broke, Su Ming was eating beef noodle soup. He glanced at the headline, set his phone down beside the bowl, finished his noodles, paid the bill, and only then opened the article to read it properly.

He looked up the law firm — Zhengyuan Law Firm. Dug through their history in the Copyright Vault. Found that Fang Zimo had been involved in six copyright disputes over the past five years, all handled by the same firm. Every single one ended in an out-of-court settlement. All defendants signed NDAs. Not a single case had ever gone to public trial.

Su Ming screenshotted it and sent it to Zhou Yuan: "He's suing me."

Zhou Yuan replied instantly: "Want me to testify?"

Su Ming stared at those four words for a few seconds. "You're not scared?"

Zhou Yuan said: "I've been sitting in the dark for two years now. Not afraid to see the light again."

---

The day of the trial, Su Ming went alone.

No lawyer. No team. Just a canvas bag with a laptop and a stack of printed materials.

Zhengyuan Law Firm sent five lawyers. The lead counsel was a man named Liu — two decades of practice. He wore a dark navy suit, his hair meticulously combed. When he sat down, he arranged his documents in a neat row on the table, every corner perfectly aligned. Su Ming glanced at him, set his canvas bag on the chair, unzipped it, and pulled out his computer.

The judge was a man in his fifties with black-rimmed glasses and a flat expression. Before the trial began, he looked at both sides. His gaze lingered on Su Ming for two seconds — a defendant with no lawyer, facing five attorneys on the other side. He didn't say anything. Just called the court to order.

The courtroom smelled faintly of old paper and wood. The air conditioning was cranked low. Sitting there, Su Ming could feel the hairs on his arms standing up.

---

Attorney Liu spent twenty minutes on his opening statement.

Su Ming's report was false. It had incited online harassment. It had caused Fang Zimo's commercial partnerships to be terminated. They demanded a public apology and compensation. While he spoke, his finger kept tapping the table. His tone was confident and practiced, glancing at the judge after every point. His voice was steady. Every pause was calculated, like a script he'd memorized.

The judge turned to Su Ming. "Defendant, do you have anything to say?"

Su Ming stood up and turned his laptop screen toward the court.

"Your Honor, I have here a complete record of Fang Zimo's six copyright disputes over the past five years. Every single one was settled. Every settlement had the same terms: the defendant signed a non-disclosure agreement and was forbidden from public discussion. These are the original records from the National Copyright Administration. These are the scanned settlement agreements provided by the creators involved. Every word in my report has a corresponding registration number."

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly in the silent courtroom. He didn't flash complex data on the screen. He just laid out the key points one by one, like he was talking about something that had nothing to do with him. He stopped after two minutes. All the main points had been made. No more time needed.

Attorney Liu's index finger stopped tapping the table. He lowered his hands, clasped them together under the desk. The two associate lawyers beside him started flipping through their own files — urgently. The rustle of paper filled the quiet courtroom, unmistakably loud.

The judge flipped through Su Ming's submitted materials. Slowly. Looking at every page. Frowning occasionally, then turning to the next one. He looked up and asked the plaintiff if they had anything else to add.

Attorney Liu was silent for a few seconds, then requested an adjournment.

When he said it, his shoulders dropped slightly. A small motion. But Su Ming saw it. The two associate lawyers beside him exchanged a glance. No one spoke.

Su Ming closed his laptop.

He knew he'd won.

---

A man in a worn gray jacket stood in the hallway outside the courtroom.

Thinner than in his photos — cheekbones more prominent, eyes deeper set — but standing straight. His shoulders hadn't sagged from two years of frustration. His hair was longer than before, unkempt, hanging naturally. Zhou Yuan had come.

"I thought you wouldn't show."

"I told you I'm not scared."

The two of them stood in the corridor. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the window at the far end. Dust drifted slowly in the beam. Zhou Yuan's hands were shoved in his jacket pockets. His posture was a little stiff — not from nerves, but from being out of practice in places like this.

Zhou Yuan looked at Su Ming and paused. "I read your article. I recovered all the files I'd deleted. Three years of writing. Not a single word lost."

Su Ming looked back at him. Said only one word: "Good."

"Want to sit outside?" Zhou Yuan gestured toward the door.

---

The two of them walked out of the courthouse and found a bench on the steps by the entrance.

The sunlight was good. The breeze carried that dry crispness of autumn. Some leaves on the plane trees had already turned yellow; a few had fallen at their feet. Zhou Yuan pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, took one out, and glanced at Su Ming.

"Mind?"

"I mind. But I'll put up with it."

Zhou Yuan chuckled and put the cigarette back. He leaned against the bench and looked up at the sky. The backrest was a bit low — his neck tilted at an uncomfortable angle — but he didn't adjust. "Haven't been to a courthouse in two years. Last time was to sign a settlement agreement. Same building. The mediation room on the first floor."

"What did it feel like when you signed?"

"Like this was it for me," Zhou Yuan said, his eyes still on the sky. "After I left the courthouse, I went back to my place and deleted every songwriting folder I had. I figured — forget it. I'm done. Even if I wrote something, it'd just end up under someone else's name. What's the point."

"And then?"

"Then I made a new folder. Couldn't help it. My hands got itchy."

Su Ming didn't reply. He watched the people coming and going through the courthouse entrance — some walking out of the courtroom with relaxed expressions, others frowning into their phones. Everyone had a different story. But they'd all been told, over and over, inside this building.

Zhou Yuan sat for a while, then stood up. "Let's go. Parking here costs fifteen an hour. I came by shared bike." He brushed a fallen leaf off his pants and added, "Wasn't planning to come today. Went out this morning to get breakfast, just kept riding, and ended up at the courthouse. Thought about it — well, since I'm already here."

Su Ming stood up and followed. The two of them walked down the steps, one after the other, past the stone lions at the courthouse entrance. Su Ming turned to look back at the building — gray exterior walls, windows neatly aligned. It looked no different from any ordinary office block. But he knew that inside this building, in one courtroom, he'd just won the first lawsuit of his life. He didn't feel especially excited. He just felt that this was finally over.

Sunlight hit the courthouse doors. The glass reflected a blinding white light. He squinted, following Zhou Yuan down the last few steps.

---

Seven days later, the court delivered its ruling.

Plaintiff Fang Zimo's defamation lawsuit against defendant Su Ming was dismissed in its entirety for lack of evidence. The court also referred Fang Zimo's suspected false copyright registrations to the Copyright Administration for further investigation.

Su Ming screenshotted the judgment and sent it to Zhou Yuan: "It's over."

Zhou Yuan replied with a single period. Then another message: "Is your copyright alliance still taking people?"

Su Ming said: "Yeah. You can be the vice-admin."

Zhou Yuan replied: "Deal."

Su Ming looked at that word and smiled — the first time he'd smiled in the past two weeks.

---

End of Chapter 6: Above the Ruins