As a lawyer in the cryptocurrency circle, I have seen too many young people using virtual currency for illegal activities—these individuals have sold citizens' information, assisted fraud groups in moving over ten million, and even directed minors to cross-border gambling platforms.
Today, I won't discuss legal provisions or sentencing; I just want to chat about the details that aren't written in those judgments, the stories behind those engaged in illegal activities.
Last month, when I met Xiao Zhou in a detention center in the south, his case file indicated he was suspected of aiding a crime, providing twelve bank cards with transaction amounts of 2.8 million involved, but the first thing he said to me was: Lawyer, my mom is in the late stage of lung cancer, and the hospitalization costs two thousand a day. I earn three thousand five hundred a month at the electronic factory, and after paying rent, only two thousand is left. If I don’t do this, she won’t have medicine.
I went to verify his statement. His mother was diagnosed with lung cancer last year, and the county hospital suggested transferring to another hospital, with a deposit of fifty thousand required. He works twelve hours a day in an electronic factory assembling phone screens; the calluses on his fingers are thicker than his nails, and after calculating, even without eating or drinking, it would take him a year to save up.
Then the workshop leader secretly introduced him to a way: borrowing a bank card, offering five hundred for one card, and it doesn't interfere with work.
The twelve bank cards in the case file are borrowed from fellow villagers' dormitories—three of them are from the same workshop, and it was only when the police came knocking that he learned the money was obtained through fraud; what he saw as life-saving money was actually someone else’s retirement fund.
During the trial, his mother came to listen from a wheelchair, saying that she wouldn’t be treated for her illness, and asked if her child could have leniency. In the end, Xiao Zhou was sentenced to eight months, and by the time he was released, his mother was no longer there.
Every time I handle such cases, when I open the file and see the numbers related to the amounts involved and illegal gains, I always think: They are not born criminals; perhaps they just stepped into a trap that others have dug under the immense pressure of life—this trap could be a high-paying job in an office building, an easy part-time job mentioned by fellow villagers, or a money-making opportunity discussed in forums.
Some say that breaking the law is breaking the law, and there’s nothing to wash away; this is not wrong.
But a freshly graduated student finds that the salary from a legal job is not even enough for rent, while gray income allows him to pay his sister's tuition; a rural youth sees that ten years of monotonous labor in a factory cannot buy a house in the county, while running a scheme can save enough for a down payment in a month; when a university student realizes that the prospects of hard study are far less tangible than making quick money.
In the face of the deterrent power of the law and the necessity of survival, many people indeed hesitate.
Although the legal provisions are clearly stated, the scales of reality seem to always tilt towards those with resources.
These young people do not understand; they only know that others are making money and see people around them building houses with this, so with their most basic desires for life, they plunge into the abyss.
Every time a trial ends, you may see young people in prison uniforms, but the stories behind the cases should also be seen, especially by law enforcers.
They may indeed be a tumor in the illegal economy, but they are also a wound of this era—when the cost-effectiveness of hard work becomes increasingly low, and the legitimate pathways for advancement grow narrower, there will always be someone making the most desperate choice between survival and prison.
Although I have handled so many cases, I still believe that the role of law should not just be punishment; it should also be a safety net and guidance. I believe that when the safety net of society is thick enough, those young people who have been tempted by illegal activities will also walk towards the light—after all, everyone wants to live openly and proudly.
