For the last 10 years, the Hans and the Lins have lived together under the same roof as distant relatives and dear friends. They raised their two rambunctious sons together. They bought their small brick house together. But now the house is divided in more ways than one between Hans on the left side and Lins on the right.
It is hard to see the families sharing anything other than dagger glances ever again, because of a summertime tragedy reminiscent of Lord of the Flies.
In June the Hans' only son, nine-year old Han Zhixiang, drowned in a swirling, but far from turbulent, river near this town, as the Lins' only son, Lin Qiang, 12, and several other boys watched, without helping.
That much is agreed, but the rest is not clear-cut. According to the Han family, Lin Qiang ordered the others to hide Han Zhixiang's clothes and keep their mouths shut. They say he even contemplated burning the body.
So a few weeks ago, the Hans did something that has become more natural in China: They sued their friends for damages.
The story of the Hans and the Lins is emblematic of how ordinary citizens are developing a litigious itch to resolve the kind of disputes that used to be handled informally in places like Xianyang, a town of 10,000 in Fujian Province.
While people once dismissed the courts as corrupt and biased, many Chinese now believe that the brand of justice being meted out can be fair and reliable.
They hope the courts may also be able to resolve social rifts that otherwise could lead to a generation or more of mistrust.
"I saw on television that lawyers can help you get justice and make people take individual responsibility for their actions," said Deng Yundong, an uncle of Han Zhixiang's, whose family had never before met a lawyer, let alone stepped into a courtroom, before this summer.
"I've heard that the legal system has improved a lot, so we have a lot of faith in it," he said.
So, too, does Ma Meiju, Lin Qiang's mother. But she feels cautiously confident that her son's defense -- that the death was purely an accident -- will prevail.
"I don't know what's in their hearts, but I think they just want the money," Ma said.
The case pitting the Han family against the parents of Lin Qiang and another boy, nine-year old Nie Dao Erhuang, began last month. It comes at a time when more Chinese, rural and urban, have become accustomed to the nuances of civil cases through news reports, Web sites and pop culture.
The number of "personal rights" cases, of which civil cases are one important component, more than tripled from 1992, to 11,763 cases in 2000, said Minxin Pei, senior associate and co-director of the China program at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace in Washington.
In the 1992 movie The Story of Qiuju, a peasant woman sues a local official for kicking her husband. A few years ago, Chinese television began broadcasting Legal Report, a 20-minute daily program that often focuses on workers suing employers or government agencies.
"Before, a lot of people didn't know anything about the law," said Lu Jun, general manager of Shanghai Fashang Information Science and Technology, which produces a Web site that provides legal services and information.
"But now, they have a lot more confidence in the legal system as a way to protect the people, and strengthen social order. It's a very good thing for China," Lu said.



