Chapter Twenty: Know Yourself and Know Your Enemy

With Yan Ming's help, Yin Nian obtained Yang Po's personal information.

At noon, Han Duoduo drove for two hours to reach Yang Po's hometown.

Yang Po's home sits in a village at the foot of the mountain. She used to earn a living by growing orange trees on the slopes, but as age caught up with her in recent years, she rented out half her land and planted medicinal herbs and tea on the rest.

Five years ago, Yang Po's husband passed away from illness, leaving her alone in their old home. Her children, Yang Yonggui and Yang Yongfang, lived in the town—Yonggui worked as a small contractor, Yongfang ran a hair salon, and Yongli operated a building materials business in the county seat.

The village was sparsely populated. Han Duoduo disguised herself as a reporter, walking through the village and asking questions. Her pleasant appearance, lively demeanor, and genuine smile quickly won people's trust. Aside from a few who claimed ignorance, most villagers responded positively to her inquiries.

In two hours, Han Duoduo questioned seven people in the village, then drove up the mountain and interviewed several laborers near Yang Po's orange grove.

Altogether, Han Duoduo spoke to ten people; six knew about Yang Po getting hit, four did not.

Through detailed questioning, she compiled information about Yang Po across several major aspects.

First, Yang Po herself: she was a true farmer, spending her life tilling the land. In her younger days, she cultivated fruit trees, later oranges, and then tea. When her husband was alive, he worked away from home for years, so Yang Po mostly farmed alone and raised their children. None of her three children went to college—the eldest and second graduated high school, the youngest finished middle school and spent several years in prison.

Yet, as fortune shifted, all three children saw their careers rise in recent years. The eldest, Yang Yonggui, wished to bring his mother to live in town, but Yang Po clung to her patch of land and refused to leave. At sixty-four, she still felt capable of supporting herself; aside from some leg pain, she suffered no major ailments and remained in the village.

From the interviews, it was clear Yang Po was not a bad person. None of the ten spoke ill of her; two even described her as particularly kind and simple, having helped their families multiple times. She was diligent, always busy, never idle, and despite her age, maintained the habit of personally checking her crops every few days.

Han Duoduo recorded the main points: Yang Po was relatively healthy, kind, and honest.

However, one detail stood out. Two people said Yang Po did not have the habit of climbing the mountain early in the morning, and if she went to her fields, she would have taken a different path—not the mountain road where the incident occurred—which meant she was out of her way. Some speculated she was gathering medicinal herbs, but none were found at the scene. Her presence there was mysterious.

Han Duoduo noted this carefully, marking it as “purpose.”

Next, Yang Po’s three children: among them, Yang Yonggui was honest and simple, Yang Yongfang was impatient but fundamentally good, and the most controversial was Yang Yongli. He had once mingled with criminal circles, swept up in anti-crime campaigns and sent to prison, only to reform after his release and join his eldest brother in the building materials business.

The eldest, Yang Yonggui, was formerly a migrant worker; through Yongli's connections, he became a contractor, benefiting from his youngest brother. The second sister, Yang Yongfang, married a man from the town, opened a small hair salon there, and later, with Yongli’s help, opened a branch in the county seat.

So, while Yonggui was the eldest in name, both he and Yongfang depended on Yongli in life and work; Yongli was the true “big brother.”

When discussing Yang Yongli, villagers pursed their lips, lowered their voices, and responded to Han Duoduo with phrases like: “He’s ruthless,” or “He’s got some tricks.”

Han Duoduo tried to learn more about Yongli’s past, but the villagers shook their heads, claiming little contact with him—he rarely returned home, mostly operating in the county. What they all knew was the scar on his face, left from shielding his elder brother in a knife attack years ago. Because of this, after his release, his elder brother kept him close, leading to his current success.

Han Duoduo marked “Yang Yongli” with the words: “big brother.”

Finally, Han Duoduo gathered villagers’ opinions on the hit-and-run incident. She trusted that their local perspective held significant value and might get closer to the truth.

Most respondents said Yang Po was honest and kind, with a good reputation in the village. She couldn’t possibly extort anyone; if she was hit, she’d say so, if not, she’d insist on the truth. Deceit was against her lifelong principles. Despite enduring poverty, she always held to her bottom line; those who suffer most, they said, understand gratitude and compassion.

Some reserved judgment, noting Yang Po’s age and the severity of her injuries. Since she wasn’t fully conscious yet, the truth would have to wait until she recovered. They also believed her youngest son, Yang Yongli, would not let the matter rest, regardless of whether she was hit or not—the issue would not be resolved easily.

These villagers’ main concern centered on Yang Yongli, suspecting he might complicate matters.

Of the ten, only one suggested Yang Po might be trying to extort someone, saying her appearance on the mountain road early in the morning was unusual, and that extortion cases had become common in recent years. She was a woman working adjacent to Yang Po’s land, and Han Duoduo sensed their relationship was strained; her words carried a sharp undertone, though she avoided outright slander—perhaps out of fear of Yongli’s retaliation.

When Han Duoduo tried to probe further, the woman’s husband called her away, scolding her for gossiping. Duoduo wanted to exchange phone numbers, but the woman refused.

Han Duoduo discreetly took a photo for future reference.

By three in the afternoon, Han Duoduo had compiled all the information from her interviews.

Three main points emerged:

First: Yang Po was healthy and straightforward, an honest farmer. This would aid Yin Nian in communicating with her. If Yang Po learned Yin Nian had saved her only to be falsely accused, her character suggested she would help clarify the truth.

Second: The purpose of Yang Po’s appearance on the mountain road early in the morning. It was clearly not just to her own fields—perhaps gathering herbs, perhaps something else. Investigating her true purpose could reveal new possibilities.

Third: Yang Yongli. He required special caution, as villagers described him as ruthless and likely to cause trouble. Even if Yang Po herself claimed no accident occurred, Yongli might not let it go. That’s why he forbade Yang Po from meeting Yin Nian or others.

Han Duoduo sent the summary to Yin Nian, along with a detailed version.

Yin Nian received it while disguised in her hotel room, preparing to head to the hospital.

After reading the information and speaking with Han Duoduo by phone, Yin Nian gained a comprehensive understanding of Yang Po and her children. Han Duoduo was right: know yourself and your adversary, and you’ll never be defeated. With this knowledge, Yin Nian could communicate more smoothly with Yang Po and be extra wary of Yang Yongli.

Previously, Yin Nian had underestimated them, thinking they’d resort only to petty tactics and pose no real threat. But after the unexpected twists, the situation was turning increasingly against her. She realized she needed to adjust her mindset, use all her strength, consider every related person, leave no one unchecked, and never underestimate anyone. Only then could she win this battle.

At twenty past three, Yin Nian set off for the hospital.

She arrived at the hospital entrance before five. Wearing a sun hat, mask, and sunglasses, she sat on a bench outside, observing her surroundings.

At five, Yan Ming called to ask where she was. Yan Ming was unaware of her plan to “lure the tiger from its mountain.” Yin Nian said she was stuck in traffic and would be a while.

She asked Yan Ming if everyone had arrived. He replied that Yu Weiran’s legal team and Yang Po’s three children were all present—they clearly took the initiative for reconciliation seriously and had arrived early.

“Keep them calm,” Yin Nian said, rising and heading toward the inpatient building. “My position is clear. I’m willing to pay less, but their current demand is far too high. You know what to do, right?”

“Don’t worry, I understand. Since both sides lean toward reconciliation, it’s just a matter of money. We’ll find a compromise,” Yan Ming replied loudly, perhaps to let Yu Weiran’s group overhear.

By the time the call ended, Yin Nian was inside the inpatient building. She went straight upstairs to Yang Po’s ward, only to be told Yang Po had already been transferred to a private single room. After some effort, she finally coaxed the nurse into revealing the new room number.

Yin Nian hurried downstairs to another building. As she stood at the door, Yan Ming called again, but she didn’t answer, setting her phone to silent. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

It was a small, private room, the curtains drawn, dimly lit.

The air was thick with the smell of medicine and a stale, decaying odor that made Yin Nian think of death.

Yang Po lay on the bed, eyes closed, as if sleeping—or already gone. The scene reminded Yin Nian of their first meeting.

Contrary to her expectations, Yang Po was not hooked up to countless tubes or machines; only her neck and head were wrapped in gauze, her hand receiving an IV drip. She lay still, clearly unaware of Yin Nian’s arrival.

Yin Nian swallowed, feeling a strange tension. She closed the door behind her, walked slowly to the bedside, sat in a chair, and gazed at Yang Po’s wrinkled, thin face, suddenly filled with a sense of melancholy.

Yin Nian was not someone who believed destiny was preordained; she believed fate was in her own hands, shaped by relentless effort. Yet, seeing Yang Po's face again, she felt their encounter was destined—some mysterious force had bound their unrelated lives together, altering everything for Yin Nian.

How else could such coincidence occur, if not for fate?

On the bed, Yang Po’s neck twitched slightly, her mouth opening to exhale a long, drawn-out breath. Her eyes slowly opened, like an old machine coming to life, full of the weight of history.

When Yang Po’s clouded gaze fell on Yin Nian, Yin Nian heard a soft “ka” sound—a quiet click. After that, Yang Po froze, as if the machine had stalled.

Yin Nian knew this was a gasp of surprise—a shock so great it stopped Yang Po in her tracks.