Remembering Prosecutor Lai with Love

I am Kuo Mei-Chun, a small-town lawyer from Yilan. Who I am is not important; what matters is that I am one of the many deeply inspired and moved by Prosecutor Lai's sunny, upright, and passionate personality, and his boundless, selfless love. Since Prosecutor Lai fell ill and passed away, everyone who knew him—regardless of how they met, and even if he had forgotten—has shed tears of sorrow and spoken of his positive influence and warmth, wishing to walk in love as he did. The sheer number of people is unimaginable: 'gathering tears to form a great love,' and I am just one of those endless tears... I want to express everyone's profound nostalgia and the impact of Prosecutor Lai, which has nothing to do with worldly fame, fortune, or overwhelming power, but rather the God's love and supreme goodness he sincerely left in everyone's heart. Even though he has journeyed far, his love does not cease and his goodness does not stop... Prosecutor Lai, no matter what positions we hold or where we are, we will continue to work hard, carrying out your wish. May God have mercy on you for not resting in order to benefit all sentient beings, and accompany you to a better place. You, like a mischievous child, look upon us with a smile, knowing that we will continue with love all your unfinished endeavors and jointly create a beautiful place in this world! Rest in peace with a smile; this life is enough. You are the true hero and sunshine in our hearts.

Prosecutor Lai and I met over a cigarette after a court hearing. At that time, criminal procedure was undergoing heated reform centered on party-presentation and cross-examination. He was the public prosecutor and I was a newly-minted lawyer, our statuses incomparable. Whenever we faced each other in court, his dedication to cases and his exquisite professional skills always gave one the feeling of a 'respectable opponent.' But what left an even deeper impression was that, whether dealing with defendants or victims, he always showed extra care and enthusiasm, practicing a warm judiciary and deeply realizing the ancient sayings 'have pity and do not rejoice' and 'treat illness as if it were your own kin.' Most of the cases we faced each other in ended with guilty pleas, apologies, repentance, and relief. Often, because the judges took the hearings very seriously, court sessions were long and recesses short. As everyone headed toward the restrooms, the two of us would exchange a glance and dash down to the downstairs smoking area. In the span of a single cigarette, we would chat casually, unrelated to our cases. He always made me feel enthusiastic, vibrant, kind, and joyful. I knew he was not favored in the judicial circle and was someone frozen out by the prosecutors' system. Although we never touched upon this sensitive topic, what truly filled me with admiration from the bottom of my heart was that I never saw him harbor the slightest resentment, grievance, or cynical attitude. He always threw himself headfirst into the task at hand, and what he talked about was entirely his ideals and dedication to his work, the judiciary, and society. To see him was like seeing sunshine—a true gentleman indeed.

With Prosecutor Lai's job transfer, our cigarette-break friendship came to an end. Occasionally, I would see him at public events or meetings, still full of infinite vitality. Knowing that he was dedicated to the enforcement, protection, and rehabilitation sectors of the Prosecutors Office, the meetings I participated in or convened were only a small part of his work, but most of them discussed how to help victims overcome difficulties and how offenders could make amends and walk the path of rehabilitation through the assistance and systems of public units like the Prosecutors Office. This ought to have been a niche and busy portfolio for the busy Prosecutors Office, but seeing him—with the dignity of a prosecutor—attentively caring for the so-called marginalized members of society often moved the parties involved and participants deeply, making them feel the warmth. Indeed, I once heard about a mentally disabled person with three drunk-driving convictions and his family. Because he needed to report to prison to serve his sentence, they had gone to the Prosecutors Office (which they called a 'temple') to cry and plead (calling this act 'praying to the gods'), and met a Bodhisattva who gave them guidance (whom they later learned was Prosecutor Lai). He advised the man that he had to serve his sentence before he could quit drinking, and explained how to find resources to rebuild his own life, allowing him and his family to see a glimmer of hope in despair. This certainly was not an isolated case; as evidenced by the countless strangers and rehabilitated individuals who did not know him and were never invited, yet stood and wept at Prosecutor Lai's funeral to express their grief and nostalgia. In my heart, Prosecutor Lai was like Don Quixote: no matter what the surrounding macro-environment was like, he insisted on marching toward his ideal realm, striking down the malice and indifference in human nature, disregarding the worldly or judicial gaze, and even mockery. He skillfully utilized his status, passion, and influence to inject a warm current of human nature into a judicial circle that was high-ranking, lofty, yet somewhat calculating and cold, without counting personal success, failure, praise, or criticism. I truly witnessed what it means to be a Christian practicing Christ's love, and his field of positive energy was infinite. All of the above are my personal observations; I never spoke of them, nor did I ever tell Prosecutor Lai until now. But I believe that our gentleman's friendship should continue, for he fits the definition of a hero in my mind: 'both wild and chivalrous yet gentle, with pen, books, and courage,' roaming the ends of the earth upholding chivalry and justice.

I can never forget a phone call from around three years ago—November 2012. Prosecutor Lai took the initiative to call me for the first time. After hesitating and doubting for a long time, he finally blurted out a request for me to serve as the chairperson. He said he wanted to join kind-hearted people from the Yilan Probation Association to co-found the 'Yilan County Du An Ju Women's Care Association,' aiming to provide a halfway house 'to ferry their hearts and secure their residence' for female drug-offender returnees, and promised that I wouldn't need to worry about money or people. Because I smoked and had served as a prison moral educator, I could empathize with these sisters and help them rise upward, he said. I only joked, 'You might as well just say I have an addictive personality; fine, let's treat this as quitting drugs together.' Yet I never told him what was truly in my heart: 'It's because of him. He said he wanted to do public welfare, and I believed him, having no idea what he was talking about. Even though I didn't know what difficulties lay ahead, whatever he said, I believed he would put into practice; through wind and water, I would back him up.' Since then, our ties were bound at Du An Ju, and through this, I also got to know the 'fool' mentioned by Prosecutor Lai—Chairman Wang Hsin-feng of the Yilan Probation Association, a successful businessman blessed with worldly wealth and status. Chairman Wang once said, 'From the perspective of corporate management and making money, we shouldn't do rehabilitation work, let alone establish Du An Ju. But human value is infinite, and when one person improves, society is safe together...' Like Lai, he disregarded personal interest and reputation, silently and long-term contributing money and personally devoting his time to put his care for the marginalized into practice. Prosecutor Lai mentioned many times how Chairman Wang's 'spirit of a fool' moved him, making him unwilling to slack off while serving in public office and prompting him to give his all for the country and society, regardless of applause. Such a combination inspired a group of partners to work together for the rehabilitated and for the betterment of society, and Du An Ju was established in this spirit. After accepting, we founded the Yilan County Du An Ju Women's Care Association on December 12, 2012. Only after its establishment did I realize that its purpose was to assist female ex-offenders who violated the Narcotics Hazard Prevention Act or women who had been sheltered (hereinafter referred to as the sisters), providing them temporary placement for two years to shake off psychological addiction, receive proper care and psychological counseling, and adopt family-style management. This would enable them to understand themselves, unleash their potential, actively seek employment, gradually learn self-management, achieve sound physical, mental, and personal development, return to family and social life, and never fall back under the control of drugs, thereby safeguarding public safety. Du An Ju is the nation's first women's halfway house jointly integrated and entrusted by the judiciary (Yilan District Prosecutors Office), administrative agencies (Yilan County Government), and the third sector (Yilan Branch of the Probation Association, commissioned to Du An Ju Association), helping individual cases through a family-style residential living model combined with management based on a humanistic philosophy, hoping to effectively assist female drug-offender returnees in facing society anew, stabilizing employment, and undergoing a metamorphosis and growth.

During the first two years, although I served as chairperson, I was busy with work. Because Prosecutor Lai and Chairman Wang had made all preparations, I did as Prosecutor Lai said: I didn't manage anything, and was only responsible for smoking with the sisters or scaring them. But Prosecutor Lai was a man of his word bearing a heavy responsibility; he truly united the hearts of the Du An Ju partners and the resident sisters, completely devoid of worldly fame, fortune, or wealth. He silently dedicated everything and cared for everyone with his personal love—such as occasionally visiting to chat with the sisters, solving various daily difficulties and interpersonal conflicts, joining Prosecutor Lai's wife in decorating their residence, or providing clothing and bicycles, not to mention his regular high-amount personal donations (as did Chairman Wang), rallying people around him including prosecutors from the Yilan District Prosecutors Office for long-term small-amount donations, and using his status and influence to draw superiors' attention to this sector so they would jointly care and contribute. All these things were so touching that words cannot fully capture them. Although everyone did not speak of it, his inspiration led everyone to help Du An Ju, and the sisters also persevered in fighting their life journeys to repay Prosecutor Lai. Regardless of the impact of good and evil entanglements or personnel changes, we all agreed that with Prosecutor Lai around, everyone could rest easy. The path of quitting drugs is rugged, and Du An Ju has been full of storms while also witnessing miracles. Over the past year, due to personnel and ideological issues, I bit the bullet and dealt with internal staff members; through participating practically, I came to understand the unspoken, bit-by-bit efforts and selflessness of Prosecutor Lai and the Chairman. In truth, I often used my position as a lawyer to scare the sisters mostly to protect Prosecutor Lai, fearing his kindness, passion, and identity might be exploited or cheated. Yet I discovered that Prosecutor Lai actually understood all human kindness, malice, and cleverness, but used selfless, unregretful love and incomparable tolerance to embrace everything. In turn, the sisters did not deceive or exploit him either, treating him with the same genuine sincerity and trust. Furthermore, early this year, personnel changes on my part caused some sisters to push back. I originally wanted to expel them one by one, thinking I was fighting injustice, but Prosecutor Lai earnestly pleaded with me—using the Bible, experience, and love—to give everyone a chance. I simply couldn't bear to refuse him and thus reluctantly agreed, while still leaving harsh words: 'You are just overly merciful; do not let compassion breed disaster.' He maintained his sunny disposition and smile, coaxing and soothing me for half a day. Because of him, I changed my choice to believe and tolerate. Subsequent events proved that Prosecutor Lai was right; the sisters indeed had good roots and aspirations to improve, only burdened by habits and emotional issues. Given a chance, they also learned self-respect one by one. Prosecutor Lai truly made me witness what Christ's selfless love and the Buddhist concept of not abandoning a single person look like. My own good intentions and love were not enough; he truly influenced me to walk the path toward greater goodness, and because of him, I finally believe that supreme goodness can influence everything and bring out the goodness in everyone's heart. Just as our association's supervisor, Li Chen-chen, said: 'Prosecutor Lai made her understand the true meaning of love. Otherwise, every time she went to Du An Ju and saw bad things, she wanted to scold people or even hit them. It was Prosecutor Lai who asked her to sing and feel it, and Prosecutor Lai who practiced it himself...' Moreover, Du An Ju's sisters were also moved in various aspects by Prosecutor Lai's 'foolishness' and care, resulting in varying degrees of self-transformation. I sincerely thank them on behalf of Prosecutor Lai. For the sisters to stay away from drugs and misfortune for life is Prosecutor Lai's enduring hope, regardless of whether he is here or not. During Prosecutor Lai's illness, my only relief was that our Du An Ju was awarded and commended as a national anti-drug exemplary group. Prosecutor Lai deserves the lion's share of the credit for this glory, and he bears it without shame. Perhaps this allowed Prosecutor Lai to depart without worries; the home he single-handedly established will shelter the sisters and forever accompany them to bravely march forward.

Writing up to this point, I cannot help but recall what Prosecutor Lai's eldest son said at the funeral: 'My father's dying words during his illness were that the high salary and generous perks from the state made him feel unworthy of the country no matter how hard he worked...' How indomitable is this benevolent man! He dedicated his whole life to the public and the country. Perhaps, in terms of worldly fame, fortune, and success, Prosecutor Lai was unrecognized in this life, but he never grew discouraged; instead, with selfless love and goodness, he walked through this life without worry or fear, making everyone he touched feel warmth and love, leaving behind endless nostalgia and impact. His virtues far surpassed worldly destruction and praise, further proving his brilliance. He has no regrets walking alongside God; he knows the love he left behind will make us continue to work hard, and one day we will surely meet in a wonderful world free of prisons, drugs, persecution, and injustice. Or perhaps, if we keep Prosecutor Lai in our hearts, this wonderful world is already present in the mundane world right now.

Prosecutor Lai, son of God and mortal Bodhisattva, we will carry forward what you gave us and march toward goodness, living up to you, living up to heaven and earth.