Wrongful Convictions in Heilongjiang’s Anti‑Crime Campaign: Exonerated Men Still Haunted by Criminal Records
In the winter of 2018, a sweeping anti‑organized‑crime campaign in China’s far‑eastern province of Heilongjiang resulted in the dramatic arrest of a group of businessmen and their relatives who were branded a “evil force gang.” Thirteen people, led by Liang Ming, the legal representative of Heihe Wulong Construction Engineering Co., were detained on charges ranging from illegal detention and extortion to false litigation and the destruction of business operations. The case, which would unfold over four tumultuous years, has become a rare illustration of how a high‑profile prosecution can collapse under its own weight, leaving a trail of lingering injustice for those finally declared innocent.
21 August 2025
The first arrests took place on 8 May 2018, when police placed Liang Ming in criminal detention on suspicion of illegal detention. Over the ensuing months, relatives and employees of Liang were rounded up and charged as members of the alleged “evil force gang.” In November that year, the Heihe Aihui District Court handed down a first‑instance verdict that convicted all 13 defendants. Sentences varied: Xi Zhili received five years and six months in prison and a fine of 1.5 million yuan for false litigation; Liang Chenglong was given the harshest punishment—eleven years and six months and a 3.1 million‑yuan fine—for a bundle of offences including extortion, illegal detention, and business sabotage; the remaining defendants faced terms of one to three years for illegal detention or the destruction of production and business operations.
The defendants appealed, and the case was sent back for retrial. On 24 September 2020, the Aihui District Court issued a revised first‑instance judgment that reduced most penalties but still upheld guilt. Xi’s term was trimmed to five years, while Liang Chenglong’s sentence fell to nine years and eight months. A further review by the Heihe Intermediate People’s Court on 17 December 2020 cut a few fines and, in Xi’s case, reduced the prison term to three years and six months. Yet the convictions remained in force.
The turning point arrived in August 2021, when the Heilongjiang High Court ordered a new retrial and transferred the case to the Daqing Intermediate People’s Court, which in turn assigned it to the Daqing Longfeng District Court. On 26 January 2022, the Longfeng District Court issued a criminal‑attached civil judgment that completely exonerated all thirteen accused, declaring them “not guilty.” The state subsequently compensated the former defendants for the wrongful convictions.
On paper, the story should have ended there. In reality, three years after the acquittal, many of the exonerated individuals remain saddled with criminal records that refuse to be erased. The “Notice of Non‑Issuance of a No‑Criminal‑Record Certificate”—a bureaucratic form issued by the provincial “Long Yi Ban” mini‑program—continues to cite the original 2018 judgments as the basis for denying a clean‑record certificate. For Xi Zhili and Liang Chenglong, the notice explicitly references the first‑instance decision that was later overturned, leaving them unable to prove the absence of a criminal history. The impact is palpable: the survivors struggle to complete household registration, gain employment, or restore their reputations, all while official records continue to brand them as felons.
The case has ignited a wave of public scrutiny on Chinese social media. Netizens express disbelief that a group once labeled a “black‑evil force” could be wholly absolved, yet still bear the stigma of a criminal record. Comments such as “这事儿闹得，谁是恶势力竟然搞错了” (“Who the evil force actually was was mistaken”) and “当初这13人怎么被打成‘黑恶势力’？” (“How were these 13 people originally labeled as ‘black evil force’?”) echo a broader anxiety about the reliability of the justice system. Sarcastic shorthand like “TL;DR: 13 people, detained ~1200 days, innocent” underscores a collective frustration with what many see as a bureaucratic nightmare that outlives the court’s own reversal.
Legal analysts point to several systemic issues illuminated by the episode. The initial labeling of the group as an “evil force” occurred amid a nationwide “Sweeping Away Evil and Eliminating Vice” campaign, a political drive that pressures local authorities to secure convictions against organized crime. Critics argue that such pressure can compromise due process, prompting investigators to overreach or to interpret loosely defined statutes—such as the vague “evil force” (恶势力) provision—in ways that favor prosecution over factual accuracy. The fact that the same defendants, after enduring multiple rounds of appeals and a total of more than three years in detention, could ultimately be absolved suggests that the original evidence was either insufficient or mishandled.
Equally troubling is the administrative inertia evident in the failure to expunge records after a definitive acquittal. Chinese law provides mechanisms for the removal of criminal records once a conviction is vacated, yet the procedural lag—whether due to bureaucratic neglect, lack of inter‑agency coordination, or an entrenched reluctance to admit error—means that the consequences of a wrongful conviction continue to haunt the individuals involved. For Liang Ming, who spent 1,264 days behind bars before his name was cleared, the lingering record represents an invisible scar that can affect everything from travel permissions to social benefits.
Beyond the courtroom, the case resonates on a societal level. High‑profile reversals such as this erode public confidence in the judiciary, especially when they reveal contradictions between political campaigns and the safeguards of the rule of law. They also highlight the human cost of systemic missteps: families forced to navigate complex appeals, former detainees grappling with the psychological toll of incarceration, and communities questioning whether the state can reliably protect its citizens from both crime and judicial overreach.
The Heilongjiang case underscores a broader need for reforms. Transparent criteria for designating “evil forces,” stronger oversight of prosecutorial discretion, and an accountable mechanism for correcting administrative errors after acquittal could mitigate the risk of similar miscarriages. Moreover, a systematic review of the “no‑criminal‑record” certification process would ensure that individuals who have been cleared by the courts are not condemned by lingering bureaucratic artifacts.
As the story continues to circulate online and in local news outlets such as The Paper, it serves as a cautionary tale about the delicate balance between combating organized crime and preserving individual rights. The thirteen who were finally declared innocent have regained their freedom, but their struggle for full societal reintegration remains unfinished. Their experience invites a sober reassessment of China’s anti‑crime crusades and a renewed commitment to ensuring that justice—once misapplied—can be genuinely corrected.
