Li Qiao's heart was again conflicted, and she decided to help the woman. She said, "In a case like this, how should it be judged?"
Mao Yawen looked back at the door and whispered, "Emotional disputes tend to be judged more leniently. I've inquired about this case; she won't die, she'll be sentenced to ten or twenty years, and if she behaves, her sentence could be reduced."
"Ten or twenty years? Won't she turn into an old woman by the time she gets out? Who will take care of her husband's illness? In my opinion, the woman was acting in self-defense, at most guilty of mishandling the body. Tomorrow, I'll go back to the school and ask a professor from the law faculty, see if someone can do a not-guilty defense for her."
Mao Yawen felt the same sympathy, as the deceased, being a doctor, should have been treating people, not bullying the lower class using his position—a truly shameless act, he got what he deserved. "You can try," she said.