Mistrial Fury: Cuomo-Hochul Aide Dodges China Bribe Verdict—For Now

Paul Riverbank, 12/23/2025Mistrial in high-profile bribery case: NYC political aide faces retrial over China influence claims.

Once the right hand of both Governor Kathy Hochul and her predecessor, Andrew Cuomo, Sun was accused of almost cinematic intrigue. Prosecutors spun a tale that would sound far-fetched were it not carved out by an official indictment: Sun and her husband, Chris Hu, allegedly maneuvered from behind the scenes—padding their pockets, nudging policy, and, above all, acting in the interests of Beijing. They didn’t just mention the usual envelopes slipped across dinner tables. No, the government’s list reached into the odd and ostentatious: state contracts worth millions, designer handbags, Italian sports cars parked discreetly at a mansion’s rear gate, even roasted duck delivered by official hands.

Text messages surfaced in court: one in which Sun referred to then-Lt. Governor Hochul as “much more obedient than the governor”—an eyebrow-raising line considering its audience was a Chinese consulate official. Another instance detailed Sun’s apparent anxiety during the pandemic, when the wrong language about Taiwan came up—a moment that, depending on whom you believe, reflected diplomatic awareness or something much more serious.

Defense counsel Kenneth Abell, a man not prone to public theatrics, told jurors plainly that Sun’s real story didn’t match that script. Was Linda Sun the perfect staffer? “Absolutely not,” he admitted, “but imperfection is not a crime.” To the defense, the scandal over “free ducks” sounded like a punchline to a bad joke, if not for the very real weight of a federal trial. Ducks, ballet tickets, even those infamous fake invitations—these, they insisted, were just tidbits in a chaotic world of politics and culture, not evidence of bribery.

The courtroom saw over thirty witnesses, but not a word from Sun herself. She sat silent, as each side tried to frame her actions—one as foreign meddling, the other as misunderstood efforts to keep the wheels of government turning smoothly, wherever those wheels happened to roll. Meanwhile, the jurors signaled their deadlock repeatedly until Judge Brian Cogan finally declared what many legal watchers had started to expect: this was a mistrial, pure and simple.

Both camps now have a second round looming. Prosecutors have already declared their intent to try the case again—and with charges this serious, a retrial seems almost inevitable. Acting as an agent of a foreign government, bribery, forgery, money laundering—all remain on the table.

More than the fate of one political aide, this unfolding case seems to reveal something deeper: the blurry lines between official duty and personal alliance, the constant dance of influence that defines life at the crossroads of Albany and global power. Was Sun swept up by the currents of international politics, or did she craft those currents herself, for her own gain?

For now, Linda Sun returns to a city still buzzing about her trial, yet her answer—and New York’s—remains elusive. Mistrial or not, the questions echo on: Who truly guards the public trust? How vulnerable are our institutions, not just to foreign interests, but to the quiet pull of personal ambition? Perhaps we’ll learn more when next the court convenes—or perhaps, as in politics itself, some mysteries are destined to linger.

A cold Monday morning just before Christmas, Brooklyn’s federal courthouse felt unusually tense. Linda Sun—a name once whispered in New York’s highest offices—emerged from weeks of legal wrangling with uncertainty still shadowing her future. The result? Not a conviction, not an acquittal. Instead: a hung jury, the kind that sends both prosecutors and defense attorneys back to their strategizing, and leaves the rest of us puzzling over what actually happened behind those heavy oak doors.Once the right hand of both Governor Kathy Hochul and her predecessor, Andrew Cuomo, Sun was accused of almost cinematic intrigue. Prosecutors spun a tale that would sound far-fetched were it not carved out by an official indictment: Sun and her husband, Chris Hu, allegedly maneuvered from behind the scenes—padding their pockets, nudging policy, and, above all, acting in the interests of Beijing. They didn’t just mention the usual envelopes slipped across dinner tables. No, the government’s list reached into the odd and ostentatious: state contracts worth millions, designer handbags, Italian sports cars parked discreetly at a mansion’s rear gate, even roasted duck delivered by official hands.Text messages surfaced in court: one in which Sun referred to then-Lt. Governor Hochul as “much more obedient than the governor”—an eyebrow-raising line considering its audience was a Chinese consulate official. Another instance detailed Sun’s apparent anxiety during the pandemic, when the wrong language about Taiwan came up—a moment that, depending on whom you believe, reflected diplomatic awareness or something much more serious.Defense counsel Kenneth Abell, a man not prone to public theatrics, told jurors plainly that Sun’s real story didn’t match that script. Was Linda Sun the perfect staffer? “Absolutely not,” he admitted, “but imperfection is not a crime.” To the defense, the scandal over “free ducks” sounded like a punchline to a bad joke, if not for the very real weight of a federal trial. Ducks, ballet tickets, even those infamous fake invitations—these, they insisted, were just tidbits in a chaotic world of politics and culture, not evidence of bribery.The courtroom saw over thirty witnesses, but not a word from Sun herself. She sat silent, as each side tried to frame her actions—one as foreign meddling, the other as misunderstood efforts to keep the wheels of government turning smoothly, wherever those wheels happened to roll. Meanwhile, the jurors signaled their deadlock repeatedly until Judge Brian Cogan finally declared what many legal watchers had started to expect: this was a mistrial, pure and simple.Both camps now have a second round looming. Prosecutors have already declared their intent to try the case again—and with charges this serious, a retrial seems almost inevitable. Acting as an agent of a foreign government, bribery, forgery, money laundering—all remain on the table.More than the fate of one political aide, this unfolding case seems to reveal something deeper: the blurry lines between official duty and personal alliance, the constant dance of influence that defines life at the crossroads of Albany and global power. Was Sun swept up by the currents of international politics, or did she craft those currents herself, for her own gain?For now, Linda Sun returns to a city still buzzing about her trial, yet her answer—and New York’s—remains elusive. Mistrial or not, the questions echo on: Who truly guards the public trust? How vulnerable are our institutions, not just to foreign interests, but to the quiet pull of personal ambition? Perhaps we’ll learn more when next the court convenes—or perhaps, as in politics itself, some mysteries are destined to linger.