Take, for instance, taking on a case that’s about to go to trial. In a typical defense—perhaps even a perfunctory, textbook "syllogism-style" defense (e.g., no prior criminal record, first offense, and a good attitude toward admitting guilt)—the court would proceed with the trial as scheduled and deliver a verdict within just one month, wrapping up the case swiftly. However, if the lawyer dedicates significant time and effort to meticulously scrutinizing the prosecution’s weaknesses, gathering fresh evidence, and promptly filing motions such as requests to subpoena additional proof or challenge the admissibility of evidence, the court will likely become aware of the case’s underlying issues. As a result, the judge may schedule a pre-trial conference at the lawyer’s reasonable request. If the first pre-trial meeting doesn’t fully resolve the outstanding concerns, the lawyer’s persistence might prompt the court to hold a second or even third session. Only after these discussions is the official trial date set, at which point the pace of proceedings slows dramatically. This can lead to frequent delays, multiple court hearings, and even the need for supplementary investigations. Suddenly, the investigative and prosecution agencies, which had already wrapped up their initial work, find themselves pulled back into the case once again. The ensuing battle of legal expertise between all parties could easily stretch over six months, a year, or even longer—two years or more in some cases. This is precisely why lawyers who take a meticulous, hands-on approach tend to handle fewer cases—but end up with far heavier workloads. Of course, there are exceptional circumstances where a swift trial and quick resolution actually benefit the client. In those rare situations, lawyers adopt entirely different strategies, making them stand apart from their more methodical counterparts.

Just like building a century-old brand, a lawyer’s meticulous and expert work earns clients’ respect and delivers a profound sense of professional fulfillment. While the decline in case volume may temporarily lead to reduced income, the invaluable reputation built over time is enduring—and once this positive cycle takes hold, it paves the way for sustainable long-term growth. As a result, lawyers can even enjoy doubled rewards from their clients. Particularly when existing clients refer new ones, "repeat customers" begin to emerge one after another. This growing recognition of a lawyer’s refined advocacy naturally leads to higher fees, aligning with the ideal model of "charging premium rates, handling fewer cases, and delivering exceptional quality."

In my first few years as a lawyer, I was in the initial phase of learning and honing my skills. Back then, I handled mostly small and straightforward cases—anywhere from 15 to 25 each year, which already kept me quite busy. Later on, I shifted exclusively to criminal defense, and the cases I took on grew increasingly complex and high-stakes. Most of these cases stretched over six months to two years before reaching a resolution. To ensure the quality of my work, I gradually reduced my annual caseload to around ten cases. Then, about 14 or 15 years into my practice, I began tackling some of the most challenging and intricate cases from across the country—cases that were not only difficult but often required multiple pre-trial conferences, sometimes even two or three times each. Once the trial itself started, proceedings could last anywhere from a few days to several weeks—or even dozens of days in particularly complex matters. Unknowingly, by this point, my annual caseload had dropped to fewer than five cases. Going beyond that would simply become unsustainable, as I remained committed to delivering meticulous, high-quality representation in every case.

A few years ago, there was a case in Hebei province. After accepting the mandate, I struggled for a long time to identify any effective defense arguments—so much so that it kept me up at night, robbing me of both sleep and peace of mind. It wasn’t until some time had passed that I finally managed to break through. The case essentially involved the defendant, who happened to be the chairman of a water supply company appointed by the state-owned asset management authority. The company held a small amount of state-owned shares along with a substantial number of privately held shares. In earlier years, in an effort to reduce staff numbers, the company’s board of directors decided to establish a separate water industry firm. This new entity was funded partly through the company’s in-kind contributions and partly through personal cash investments made by the chairman and about 30 other employees. The newly formed company, with registered capital of 500,000 yuan, primarily took over the business operations previously handled by the original water supply company. However, just before the incident came to light, the water industry company was dissolved. Shortly afterward, the procuratorate received a tip-off and launched an investigation. Their probe revealed that during the dissolution process, the company had concealed more than 30 million yuan in funds that were actually still held by another entity. Additionally, evidence emerged indicating that the company had misappropriated several million yuan. As a result, the defendant—and several other co-defendants—were charged with crimes including embezzlement and misuse of public funds. In his defense, the client argued primarily that he was unaware of the hidden funds because he wasn’t part of the company’s management team and therefore had no insight into its financial situation. He also claimed he hadn’t participated in the company’s dissolution or liquidation process. Most critically, he insisted that all current co-defendants and even those no longer involved in the case had been coerced by investigators into providing false testimony against him. According to him, exposing these fabricated claims would unequivocally prove his innocence.

After taking on the case with lawyer Li Yonghui from Shijiazhuang, we discovered that only this defendant is currently in custody, while the other defendants remain out on bail. Meanwhile, the co-defendants and company witnesses—totaling around twenty people—have all confirmed that the chairman was directly involved in the financial management of the water utility company and even orchestrated efforts to conceal funds. Through our local attorneys, we learned that these co-defendants are all hoping for suspended sentences rather than imprisonment, making it highly unlikely they’ll cooperate with us in gathering evidence. As a result, their testimonies are unlikely to shift significantly during the trial. In essence, this leaves the defendant’s defense strategy largely ineffective: regardless of whether the alleged facts actually occurred historically, the overwhelming number of witness accounts is more than enough to establish the legal truth as determined by the court. Initially, we focused on defending the chairman by arguing whether he qualified as a "state official" within the water utility company and by challenging the claim that the concealed funds were neither subject to judicial audit nor allocated to individual beneficiaries. Yet, despite our efforts, these arguments felt somewhat superficial—particularly in cases involving complex official misconduct charges, where such defenses rarely succeed in persuading the court. Even if the court accepted our stance on the chairman’s status, there was still a strong chance the charges would be downgraded: from embezzlement to misappropriation of funds, or from misuse of public money to misuse of corporate funds. Given the nearly identical sentencing implications for amounts exceeding 30 million yuan, this adjustment would ultimately achieve little in terms of mitigating the defendant’s fate. Undeterred, our legal team continued meticulously reviewing case files and conducting repeated meetings with the client, always on the lookout for fresh angles. It wasn’t until later that we noticed a critical gap in the official business registration documents of the water utility company—specifically, that the records provided were incomplete. Promptly, we reached out to the local industrial and commercial authorities to request the full set of registration materials, which we then brought back for further analysis. Finally, we uncovered a crucial detail: although the water utility company had formally approved a board resolution, no actual capital contributions were ever made afterward. Moreover, the shareholder list recorded in the business registry included just over thirty employees acting as nominal shareholders—none of whom had ever contributed any funds or repaid the chairman for his personal advances. Reflecting on this revelation, we revisited the case with renewed clarity. Drawing from criminal justice interpretations, we concluded that, under the principle of "whoever invests owns," the true investor—and thus the sole legitimate shareholder—of the water utility company was none other than the defendant himself, the chairman of the supplying company. Consequently, we argued that the company, operating effectively as a one-person entity, could not possibly qualify as either a state-owned subsidiary of the water supply company or as a privately owned limited liability company jointly funded by multiple investors. This line of reasoning became the central focus of the court proceedings, prompting the panel to treat it as the most critical issue at hand. As a result, the prosecution was repeatedly asked to provide additional evidence, while the presiding judge personally conducted independent fact-finding missions. Over time, the case progressed through three separate court sessions, each centered squarely on the pivotal question of who truly invested in the company—and consequently, whose interests the law should protect. Ultimately, the first-instance verdict upheld the company’s classification but dramatically reduced the amount of money attributed to the defendant’s alleged misconduct, resulting in a significantly lighter sentence. However, when the case moved to the second trial, the core debate once again revolved around the very same question of ownership and investment—leaving the final judgment unresolved to this day. Looking back, it’s been over three-and-a-half years since I took over this case in March 2018, shortly after it entered the court system for its initial hearing. Of course, this isn’t my only high-profile case; another notable example is the case of Chang, the former deputy editor-in-chief of China Electronics News, who was accused of intentional homicide and arson. I’ve been handling that case since 2007, guiding it through multiple rounds of litigation—including an original trial, an appeal, a retrial ordered by the Supreme People’s Court, and finally, an acquittal that secured Chang’s release on bail. Even after the prosecution appealed the decision, leading to another round of appellate review, the case remains unresolved to this day.

In short, "selling at low margins but high volume" or "meticulous, hands-on case management"—at first glance, they may seem like mere stylistic choices in a lawyer's approach. Yet beneath the surface lie subtle yet significant differences. First, in terms of work focus, "meticulous, hands-on case management" involves deeply dissecting every detail of the case facts, thoroughly analyzing the legal relationships involved, and dedicating immense time and energy to leave no stone unturned. Lawyers pursuing this approach spare no effort to uncover even the smallest piece of information that could benefit their clients, relentlessly searching for the most compelling defense angles—aiming to move beyond routine procedures and engage in a more substantive, adversarial dialogue with prosecutors, investigators, and judges. Second, when it comes to long-term development, "meticulous, hands-on case management" resembles building a snowball: it demands an initial, painstaking effort to get that tiny snowball rolling—and as years go by, the snowball naturally grows larger and heavier through continuous accumulation. In contrast, "selling at low margins but high volume," by its very nature, struggles to create meaningful momentum or build lasting momentum. It’s more like trying to roll an iron hoop: while you might not have to bend over to get it started, the hoop will never grow—or gain any real weight—no matter how much you push. Finally, from the perspective of a lawyer’s personal sense of accomplishment, some cases, whether tackled with meticulous care or pursued through a volume-driven strategy, may ultimately fail to deliver a truly groundbreaking breakthrough in terms of key arguments. Yet here’s the thing: the process of thoughtful deliberation and diligent research itself brings a profound sense of fulfillment—a deep-rooted peace of mind that comes from knowing you’ve left no stone unturned. And sometimes, just occasionally, a brilliantly conceived argument can unexpectedly shift the entire course of the case—or even influence the final verdict and sentencing. That rare, exhilarating moment of professional satisfaction and pride, though fleeting, is often enough to outweigh the frustrations, uncertainties, or setbacks experienced along the way.