English translation of the full Chinese essay.
Mingyue once attended a family-court hearing with his assistant.
That day, a couple were disputing their divorce. They spoke of property, children and the past. At first they were courteous; then came accusations. At first they argued over figures; then they reopened old grievances. The judge mediated from noon until evening, but no resolution came.
One party grew thirsty and asked, “Judge, is there any drinking water in the court? This corridor is so long—why is there not even a water dispenser?”
The judge paused. “This is a family court. Every day we hear cases filled with love, hatred and resentment. If we put a water dispenser in the corridor…”
At that point, the judge stopped speaking.
The party had not understood, but Mingyue had. He looked back at the empty corridor and felt a chill.
After the hearing, his assistant asked, “What did the judge mean?”
Mingyue was silent for a moment. Then he said, “When people love one another, they gladly offer each other tea. When they resent one another, even a cup of water becomes something to guard against. On the surface, a family court decides questions of property and legal status. What truly lies before it, however, is the human heart after it has broken.”