Li Qiaochu: A Difficult Yet Fulfilling Day—Doing My Best Is Enough: A Complete Record of One Day at Lunan Prison

8:50 a.m. today

Today, August 25, 2026, is family visitation day. My second older sister has already received a queue number. I am currently outside Lunan Prison. At 8:50 a.m., I called the prison to apply for a special visit to speak with the prison warden in person about the marriage registration matter I submitted four months ago. The telephone operator said that the matter had been reported to the leaders and asked me to wait for a response at the entrance.

I mailed the visitation application on April 12. After the prison signed for it, there was no further response. More than four months have now passed. On August 18, I sent another letter urging them to process it. According to a Ministry of Justice document, the visitation application I submitted requires the prison warden’s approval. I do not know whether the prison’s prison administration department forwarded the application to the warden, whether the warden knows about it, or what stage the approval is at.

Over the past few months, I have been busy with the subsequent procedures for the marriage application. At the same time, Zhiyong has been in a persistently low mood because of his mother’s situation, feeling worried and anxious. Since the beginning of June, the review of our correspondence has always taken a very long time. The difficulty of communicating often makes me feel that no matter how hard I try, it is still not enough to comfort him.

At the end of July, I reported Zhiyong’s outdoor exercise issue to the prison in accordance with the law. So far, I have not received confirmation from him as to whether the situation has improved. The two letters I mailed in late July—in which I specifically asked whether his right to outdoor exercise had received basic protection—have still not been delivered to him.

Visits of this kind have precedents both in law and in the practice of prison administration, and they also safeguard the lawful rights and interests of prisoners. I hope to speak with the prison warden in person, so that there is at least a channel for raising the matter.

I am waiting at the entrance.

9:50 a.m. today

Lunan Prison called back and told me to wait patiently

About an hour later, Lunan Prison called me back and said that it had already sought instructions from the leaders, who had said that I should wait patiently.

I asked: Approximately how long do I need to wait patiently?

The other party replied: The leader only said to ask you to wait patiently.

I asked: Still at the entrance to the prison police station?

The other party replied: Either is fine.

What I understood was this: Not only do I need patience, I also need a healthy body capable of enduring the heat and sun in the middle of a hot day. Keep going!

11:15 a.m. today

The result of waiting patiently: “Try persuading Xiao Li to go back first”

At around 10:15, I called the public telephone numbers of the procuratorial offices stationed at Lunan Prison, 0633-3326474 and 0633-3326476, which I found on the website. It was still working hours on a working day, but neither number was answered.

The sunlight became increasingly glaring, and there was no longer any shade to hide in. I saw that it was only 10:30 and found it difficult to imagine what Zhiyong would feel like if his outdoor exercise schedule had still not improved and he went outside at exactly 11:00. I also had no way to confirm directly with him whether it had improved. I suddenly became anxious and burst into tears, then steadied my emotions.

After a while, my second older sister came out from her visit and said that everyone in the prison administration section was in the visitation room, and that the head of the prison administration section had asked her to persuade me to leave as soon as possible. So after waiting patiently for an hour and a half, the result was that no relevant personnel were ever going to come out to receive me, and they wanted my family member to persuade me to leave.

At 10:40, I called the prison again and told them that if no one responded before 11:00, I would have no choice but to go to the procuratorate to report the situation.

The marriage application process so far—

At the end of March, the prison said that it had already reported it the previous year

In May, the prison administration bureau said that it was outside its area of responsibility, while also saying that it had handled the matter without informing me of the outcome. It stated that the marriage application was to be handled by Lunan Prison and the civil affairs authorities

In July, the administrative reconsideration office rejected my application for reconsideration on the grounds that marriage-related matters fall within “the education and management of prisoners,” which is part of the prison’s execution of criminal sentences

Yesterday, I went to the Marriage Registration Office of the Donggang District Civil Affairs Bureau to inquire. The staff said that civil affairs authorities are only responsible for verifying documents, and that the prison must bring the prisoner to the site for the procedure to be completed; they cannot substitute for the prison

After going around in a large circle, the written responses from the various departments show that the entity currently bearing primary responsibility for the marriage application procedure is Lunan Prison—the same prison that initially said it had reported the matter and had no authority of its own.

After 5 p.m. today

Twenty minutes of in-person communication outside the prison gate—“We have no statutory obligation to respond, but we didn’t say we wouldn’t respond”—and then no response

At 11:07, the prison called and said: “We couldn’t find you—the staff member responsible for explaining the matter to you.” I said: “That’s all right. I’m turning around and heading back to the prison gate now.”

At 11:21, outside the prison’s police service station, I met four staff members who said they were from the prison administration section, the office, and the prison unit where Zhiyong is held. None of them was wearing work identification.

A staff member from the prison administration section asked what I wanted. I briefly described the process by which I had submitted the visitation application and marriage application, and explained the focus of today’s discussion: First, I had come to ask whether the visitation application had been submitted to Prison Warden Liu Xiaodong for approval as required, and what stage the review was at after four months; second, I described yesterday’s inquiry with the civil affairs authorities and explained that the marriage application still required the prison’s assistance.

The tall staff member from the prison unit asked whether I had seen a 2004 letter from the Ministry of Civil Affairs. Regarding marriage registration for prisoners, it only mentions that the prison’s responsibility is to provide proof when the prisoner’s identity cannot be verified; it does not clearly stipulate anything else. I asked: “Then what about matters such as how the prisoner is to get to the marriage registration office in person—is that not the prison’s responsibility?” The other party said forcefully: “Do not interpret the provisions by excluding [what is outside them].” (I understood the “excluding” in his wording to mean narrowing the scope of the provisions.)

I was also quite confused. It was he who had brought up the 2004 civil affairs letter to support his argument, but the reply itself only addressed the limited issue of proof of identity. It made no provisions whatsoever for escorting the prisoner, special visits, or handling the registration in person. I raised the question of who should be responsible for the subsequent procedures. This was simply a normal follow-up question about how to address a gap in the law, yet it turned into an allegation that I was artificially distorting the scope of application of the 2004 civil affairs letter.

Next, the staff member from the prison unit said: “If he leaves the prison to go to the site, the current system only has provisions in Ministry of Justice documents and the Prison Law concerning temporary release from prison to visit family. He clearly does not meet the conditions for leaving the prison.” I have not read the specific provisions on leaving prison. I only felt, from the literal meaning, that they did not apply to marriage registration, because before the registration was completed I was not a family member. What did this have to do with “visiting family”? I timidly asked: “Why does he not meet the conditions?” The other party replied forcefully: “Go home and read the Prison Law yourself.”

As for my inquiry about the progress of the visitation application, the staff member from the prison administration section initially said that they strictly followed the Ministry of Justice’s Regulations on Prisoner Visits and Correspondence, meaning that I was not within the category of people legally permitted to visit. I was exhausted. If I were within the legally prescribed category, why would I submit an application and similar cases? Wouldn’t I just visit him directly? I said that I at least had the right to submit an application, that the regulations stipulated approval by the prison warden, and that I had not applied to their department.

Finally, a staff member from the office explained the duty to provide notification. He said that whether it was the visitation application, processing reminder, or inquiry letter I had mailed, the law did not stipulate a duty to notify me in writing, nor did it stipulate an obligation to inform me; this was my private application. I asked: “So you mean that you will not inform me of the progress of the visitation application?” The other party raised his voice and said: “I am only explaining what the law provides. I did not say we would not inform you.” But in the end, they did not inform me…

After about twenty minutes, we ended the in-person communication. They did not take any notes throughout, and I did not notice whether the prison administration staff member standing behind them had turned on a body-worn camera.

After lunch, I wrote a Application for Procuratorial Supervision to the Rizhao Municipal Procuratorate and first applied for supervision concerning the visitation application. Based on what the staff said in person, all procedures for my special visitation application regarding marriage registration are recorded internally by the prison. I have no way to ascertain them and can only remain passively suspended, causing my right to apply and my right to seek a remedy to be blocked from the outset.

At 3:30 p.m., I arrived at the Rizhao Municipal Procuratorate. A notice at the entrance said, “No public reception on Tuesday afternoons.” At the gate, I called the various telephone numbers available on the official website. The duty officer in the lobby told me to call the appeals and complaints office; neither of the two numbers provided was answered. The telephone number for the Third Procuratorial Office, which is responsible for guiding and managing the work of procuratorial offices stationed at prisons throughout the city, was also not answered. The 12309 line only allowed me to leave a message after hearing a voice prompt. Perhaps it really was… just Tuesday by coincidence… and just the afternoon by coincidence… So the materials I had painstakingly prepared could not be submitted in person and had to be mailed afterward.

Today really was a difficult yet fulfilling day. Doing my best is enough.

Li Qiaochu  August 25, 2026