He walked into a Chicago divorce hearing sure he could erase me—until a packed CTA bus, a worn wooden cane, and one quiet stranger turned his confidence into a countdown.

Beside him, Leo, the usually smoothtalking and cunning lawyer, now sat as stiff as a wax figure about to melt. He didn’t even dare to open his briefcase. Leo knew very well that both of their careers were on the line in this room. Facing Stella might have been easy, but facing the shadow of the giant behind her was suicide.

On the other side, at the respondents table, Stella sat calmly. Her hands were folded in her lap. Next to her sat the figure of Mr. Kesler. Although he was only wearing a worn plaid shirt and faded dress pants, the aura of dignity he radiated made the simple wooden chair feel like a king’s throne. Mr. Kesler sat upright, both hands resting on his wooden cane. His eyes were closed for a moment as if he were meditating, waiting for the battle to begin.

The baleiff called the court to order. The side door opened. Three judges in black robes and white ties entered the room. Everyone present stood up. The presiding judge, a middle-aged man with thick glasses and a stern face, walked to the center chair. However, as his eyes scanned the room before sitting down, he suddenly paused.

The presiding judge’s eyes locked onto the figure of the old man at the respondent’s table. He squinted, making sure he wasn’t mistaken. A second later, his stern face changed to an expression of shock mixed with extraordinary respect. He recognized him. It was his former dissertation adviser, a retired Supreme Court justice whose integrity was internationally renowned.

Professor Kesler, the presiding judge, murmured, his voice clearly audible in the silent room. The two associate judges also turned in surprise. Then, instinctively, they slightly inclined their bodies toward the respondents table, a gesture of respect rarely seen in a courtroom.

Mr. Kesler opened his eyes, smiled faintly, and then gave a calm, dignified nod. Please proceed with your noble duty, your honor. Consider me not here. I am just an old man accompanying an acquaintance in her search for justice.

The phrase, “Consider me not here,” had precisely the opposite effect. Mr. Kesler’s presence completely changed the atmosphere in the room. The presiding judge swallowed hard, aware that this hearing was being directly supervised by the Grandmaster himself. The standard of justice in this room suddenly rose to the highest level. There would be no room for foul play.