After weathering the challenges of the previous years, my understanding of specialization gradually shifted from vague to clear. As we entered the 2000s, societal division of labor became increasingly refined, making the demand for lawyers to specialize even more pronounced.

I prefer observing, summarizing, and analyzing. Looking back at the industry trends over the past few years, I quickly realized that what truly defines industry leaders and experts isn’t just their impressive titles—it’s their deep commitment to specialization. No matter which field you choose, only by consistently staying dedicated to that one area, pouring your full energy into mastering it, can you achieve remarkable breakthroughs and ultimately become a specialist lawyer. At the same time, I’ve noticed that many high-earning top-tier lawyers actually lack any real expertise or meaningful contributions in their specialized fields. Instead, their success often hinges on having an extensive network, being highly active in social circles, or even relying on unpredictable risk-based retainer fees—payments that are far from stable. As a result, their income doesn’t translate into sustained impact on industry development or the advancement of the rule of law; rather, it resembles more of a typical commercial venture than a true reflection of legal excellence. Looking ahead, as the number of lawyers continues to grow and competition intensifies, this focus on short-term gains is unlikely to remain sustainable—and it comes with significant risks too.

This kind of analysis has firmly convinced me to completely abandon my other businesses and focus exclusively on a single area of expertise—using time as my ally to carve out room for growth. As long as I can navigate through the initial challenges, I believe I’ll have the chance to become an industry- and society-recognized expert in my field.

Professionally, I’ve naturally chosen to specialize in criminal defense. In fact, that’s exactly what I studied during my master’s program—criminal law—and it remains the area of practice that genuinely excites me the most. Criminal defense embodies the thrilling sense of settling scores, boldly condemning evil, upholding justice, and safeguarding human rights—qualities that perfectly capture the timeless, traditional image of a lawyer. This is precisely the professional fulfillment I’ve been pursuing since my youth. As for “trendy,” non-litigation legal work, I see it as more closely tied to business interests, where the lawyer’s role and identity often take a backseat. In fact, when it comes to advancing the rule of law, I believe criminal defense delivers a far more direct and impactful contribution than these other areas—a point that aligns perfectly with how I’ve always envisioned the true essence of the legal profession.

In 2004, I officially established my professional identity as a criminal defense lawyer. Practicing criminal defense brings both joy and pain—there’s the thrill of battle, but also moments of necessary compromise; it demands both straightforwardness and strategic thinking, offering highs of triumph as well as lows of disappointment. Above all, it requires an exceptional fighting spirit, unwavering mental resilience, and outstanding multifaceted skills—qualities that enable one to survive even in the toughest adversities and elevate their work through meticulous logic. By handling criminal cases, I’ve gained deeper insights into—and a clearer understanding of—the complexities of today’s society.

However, criminal defense work during that era wasn’t very appealing. Criminal policies and the legal system weren’t as progressive as they are today. Lawyers weren’t yet referred to as "defense attorneys" during the investigation phase—instead, they were called lawyers providing "legal assistance," with significantly restricted rights. For instance, when meeting with a suspect, at least two lawyers had to be present, and even then, their request still required approval from the investigative authorities. And once approved, investigators could even send representatives to observe the meeting firsthand. As a result, the perception of criminal defense among both practitioners and the public was that it carried high risks but offered low fees—often just a few thousand yuan per case, with cases fetching tens of thousands of yuan being quite rare. Even lawyers who were genuinely interested in criminal defense often found themselves needing to take on other types of work to make ends meet. Consequently, in the eyes of many, only lawyers who couldn’t pursue more lucrative or prestigious practice areas would choose criminal law—a perception that inadvertently labeled criminal defense as an "entry-level, lower-end practice."

But I believe in one principle: as long as you do your work exceptionally well, with precision and excellence, you’ll attract a steady stream of clients and earn society’s recognition. That’s precisely why I quickly decided to focus exclusively on criminal defense. At the time, I was in my early thirties—still relatively young—and brimming with boundless energy. I often found myself networking and socializing outside the office, meeting new people from the business world during dinners and gatherings. During these occasions, friends would frequently introduce me to their colleagues in corporate circles, who’d curiously ask, "Hey, what exactly does Attorney Zhao specialize in?" "Ah," I’d reply, "I’m a criminal defense lawyer—specifically, I represent individuals accused of crimes." More often than not, my new acquaintances would respond with a look of mild disappointment. "Oh, that’s too bad," they’d say. "Our company actually prefers civil lawyers who understand business matters. We don’t really need criminal defense attorneys here. Sorry about that!" Though their words sometimes left me feeling a bit disheartened, I never felt awkward or pressured to change course. Over time, though, as word spread among my peers—whether coworkers, classmates, fellow townsmen, or old friends—I gradually earned a distinct reputation: "the criminal defense lawyer." This unconventional approach turned out to be remarkably effective. Before long, when someone I knew casually ran into a friend or family member who happened to need a criminal defense lawyer, they’d instantly think of me first.

On the contrary, many young lawyers of the same generation prefer to avoid such awkwardness and challenges—unlike me, who openly and unapologetically proclaim myself as a criminal defense attorney. Instead, they often go out of their way to adopt every prestigious professional title possible, eager to seize any opportunity that promises lucrative business. Over time, this strategy does help them accumulate more and more connections—but when someone actually needs a specialized lawyer for a particular case, these all-around experts are the last ones anyone thinks of.

It’s not just young lawyers—some seasoned attorneys face the same challenge. Back then, I had a colleague who’d been practicing for many years longer than me; he’d even transitioned from being the head of another law firm. He’d started specializing in criminal defense early on and had already gained considerable recognition in the industry—making him an inspiring role model for me to strive toward. After working together for two years, though, we noticed a striking contrast: while my own performance continued to soar, his was steadily declining—so much so that he was on the verge of losing his partnership status. Concerned about his situation, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going wrong. After all, this lawyer was clearly talented and well-equipped with a strong foundation. Something just didn’t add up. So, one day, I quietly checked out the firm’s official website to examine his personal profile—and instantly found the answer. In the “Areas of Expertise” section, he’d listed over ten different practice areas, ranging from long-term corporate counsel to securities, mergers and acquisitions, and even real estate. Yet tucked away at the very end was his true passion and specialty: criminal defense, where he’d earned his reputation and success. Later, during a casual conversation, I openly shared my thoughts with him, gently suggesting that instead of spreading himself too thin across so many fields, he should focus more intently on his core strength—his area of expertise. After all, maintaining excellence in one key area would ultimately benefit both his career and the firm as a whole. Sure enough, not long after, my colleague decided to leave the firm for various reasons. But looking back over the years, I’ve been thrilled to see that he’s since returned almost exclusively to criminal defense—a field where he continues to thrive and build a stellar reputation. It’s a perfect example of how staying true to your professional strengths can lead to sustained success and fulfillment.

In 2006, shortly after I was promoted to senior partner at the firm, I quickly proposed establishing a standalone criminal practice division—a plan aimed at building a specialized brand in criminal defense. The core idea was to separate the team dedicated exclusively to criminal matters from the litigation and arbitration group, positioning this new department as a pilot project for the firm’s ongoing efforts toward professional specialization. The proposal received unanimous support from the management team, and later that same year, the Criminal Practice Division was officially launched. With this move, my own commitment to specializing in criminal law had successfully completed its first major milestone.