Chapter Eleven: Self-Doubt

When Yin Nian returned home, Liang Zhicheng had already prepared dinner.

In the past few days, Yin Nian’s appetite had been poor; her stomach ached with a persistent, dull pain. In the two years after graduating from university, she had worked so hard and eaten so irregularly that she developed chronic gastritis. Later, she quit smoking and drinking, adopted regular meals, and her condition gradually improved. For years now, she’d rarely suffered any stomach pain, but it had returned three days ago. She suspected it was due to excessive anxiety and lack of sleep.

Yin Nian ate only a couple of bites before setting down her chopsticks.

“Not to your liking?” Liang Zhicheng asked.

“It’s not the food. I think my digestion isn’t good,” she replied.

“Is your old stomach trouble acting up? Should we get some medicine?” Liang Zhicheng’s concern was evident.

“No need. It should pass in a few days.”

Liang Zhicheng poured her a glass of water. Lately, Yin Nian had felt parched all the time, sometimes waking at night to drink. She took the glass and drained it in one go. Through the glass, she noticed Liang Zhicheng watching her, but when she set it down, he was already looking at his plate.

After finishing her drink, Yin Nian leaned back against the sofa, eyes half-closed, silently watching Yangyang eat.

Since their argument that night, Yangyang hadn’t spoken a word to her. Yin Nian had apologized, tried to make amends, showed concern, but Yangyang remained silent, avoiding her as if afraid. Yin Nian found this deeply troubling.

Faced with Yangyang’s silence, Yin Nian felt powerless—she couldn’t scold, couldn’t raise her voice, couldn’t even speak loudly without guilt. She had no idea how to communicate and could only hope that time would heal, that their relationship would slowly improve.

Yangyang sensed Yin Nian’s gaze, put down her chopsticks, and headed for the bedroom.

“Are you full, Yangyang?” Liang Zhicheng asked.

Yangyang nodded, saying nothing, and disappeared into the room.

Yin Nian watched her go, sighing softly.

That night, after falling asleep, Yin Nian had another nightmare. She dreamed once more of Madam Yang, bloody and crawling onto her bed, grabbing her feet. Madam Yang’s hands were icy cold, chilling her to the bone, as if her blood vessels had frozen solid. Yin Nian woke in fright to find Liang Zhicheng already up.

“Nightmare again?” Liang Zhicheng stood by the bed.

“Yes… Madam Yang again…” Yin Nian swallowed.

“You’re under too much stress lately.” Liang Zhicheng handed her a cup of water. She drank most of it in one gulp.

Liang Zhicheng continued, “If you can’t eat or sleep, and keep having nightmares, I’m worried about your health.”

Yin Nian let out a long sigh. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve tried to relax these past days…”

Liang Zhicheng said, “You’re not in a good state. You may not notice, but I can see it. You care too much about this, you want so badly to prove your innocence, and the more you want it, the more pressure you feel.”

Yin Nian furrowed her brow, her stomach aching faintly.

Liang Zhicheng suggested, tentatively, “How about we see a doctor tomorrow?”

“For my stomach?”

“Yes, but I think it’s your stress. You need to let some of it out.”

“How?”

“Talk to a psychologist. Just chatting with them can help relieve the pressure. Only when you’re not weighed down can you handle this calmly. Otherwise, your health will collapse before the problem is solved.”

“No need.” Yin Nian refused crisply, lying down to sleep.

Liang Zhicheng said no more, switched off the light, and lay down beside her.

A few minutes later, Yin Nian suddenly asked, “Zhicheng, are you asleep?”

“No. What is it?” Liang Zhicheng’s voice was alert.

“The footage you saw in the car—how did I hit Madam Yang?” Yin Nian’s voice was soft, but clear and serious.

“I must have been mistaken…”

“Tell me. Even if you were wrong, tell me.”

“All right… I saw Madam Yang suddenly appear on the road; you didn’t have time to brake and hit her head-on. She was thrown aside, then the car stopped at the roadside. Because she landed on the other side, the dashcam didn’t capture anything after you got out. That’s all I saw—the rest I didn’t get to check before you and the police arrived, so I hurriedly deleted the footage…”

“What you saw is very similar to Yangyang’s account,” Yin Nian said, meaningfully.

“It was all so rushed, and the footage wasn’t clear, foggy. I must have misread it…”

Yin Nian sat up slowly, staring at Liang Zhicheng in the darkness. “Zhicheng, tell me honestly—did you really see me hit Madam Yang in the video?”

Liang Zhicheng sat up as well. In the darkness, they looked at each other in silence.

Their features were swallowed by the night; only their eyes shone faintly. Yin Nian’s eyes were wide and intent, while Liang Zhicheng’s were narrowed, his eyelids drooping.

After a long hesitation, Liang Zhicheng said, “At the time, I did see it. I really thought you were trying to hide it. If I’d known Madam Yang wasn’t dead, I wouldn’t have deleted anything.”

“But if I really hit her, why do I have no memory of it? Why can’t I recall anything?” Yin Nian asked, almost to herself.

“There are two possibilities. First, I misread it, and Yangyang remembered wrong—you didn’t hit her, Madam Yang is trying to extort you. Second, you did hit her, but for some reason, you don’t remember.” Liang Zhicheng had wanted to say this for long, but before, Yin Nian would get agitated or angry. Now, her emotions seemed less defensive, so he spoke his mind.

After a silence, Yin Nian murmured, “Yesterday afternoon… when I drove home, I passed a crossroads. On the sidewalk, an old woman walked slowly. Seeing her, I suddenly had a headache… In that moment, fragments of hitting someone flashed through my mind: Madam Yang’s grey cloth clothes, her bloodied wrinkled face, her body flying like a bird, and a dangling towel… If I did nothing, why would those images appear in my mind?”

Liang Zhicheng’s voice was low. “Are you beginning to doubt yourself?”

Yin Nian shook her head, her expression pained. “I don’t know… I believe I didn’t hit anyone, but everything seems to indicate I did. I don’t understand… I just want to know the truth…”

A strange light flickered briefly in Liang Zhicheng’s eyes. He lowered his voice, “If you really want to find out, I have an idea. I don’t know if you’d like to try.”

“What idea?”

“Talk to a psychologist. It can help you relieve stress, calm your emotions, and from a professional perspective, maybe offer new insights.”

“You think I have a mental illness?”

“I never thought that. I just think you’re under too much pressure. Anyway, it won’t hurt to talk. Many executives and celebrities have their own personal psychologists. It’s just a way to speak freely to an outsider and ease the stress.”

“Could I have amnesia?”

“I don’t think so…”

Yin Nian said nothing more, lay back down, facing the window, her eyes wide open, gazing at the starlit sky, deep in thought.

Liang Zhicheng lay down too.

The night was quiet. They lay silently, one facing left, one right, not even their breathing audible.

Who knows how much time passed, when Yin Nian whispered, “Can a psychologist help me find the truth?”

Liang Zhicheng answered softly, “At the very least, they can help you find yourself.”