Chapter Three: Pressing Closer with Every Step

Yin Nian’s outing with her son was disrupted by the incident of saving a stranger, and the rest of the trip was hastily concluded.

Early the next morning, Yin Nian returned home with her son. She tidied up briefly and was just about to leave for work when her husband pushed the door open. Her husband’s name was Liang Zhicheng, an as yet unknown writer of children’s stories. After their child was born, he had resigned from his job to support Yin Nian’s career and to have more freedom for his writing, becoming a full-time stay-at-home dad.

This outing had been Liang Zhicheng’s idea, as he feared the communication between Yin Nian and their son was dwindling and worried that mother and child might become estranged. Yin Nian found his reasoning convincing and agreed. Who could have foreseen what would happen?

“You’re back?” Liang Zhicheng closed the door and adjusted his glasses.

“Where were you?” Yin Nian noticed Liang was wearing a black coat, with stray frost clinging to it.

“Just bought some household things,” Liang Zhicheng said, shaking the black plastic bag in his hand. “How was the trip?”

“As I said on the phone, I saved an elderly woman, was nearly extorted, and Yangyang’s mood was affected. So we came back early.” Yin Nian rubbed her throbbing forehead, suddenly irritable. “Society is becoming more and more twisted.” With that, she walked straight out.

Liang Zhicheng set the black plastic bag on the table. At the edge of the bag, a few crimson bloodstains could be glimpsed.

At some point, Yangyang had come over and placed a white button on the table, mottled with blood.

Liang Zhicheng looked up at Yangyang. The two regarded each other in silence, their faces expressionless.

At ten in the morning, while Yin Nian was in a meeting, the receptionist quietly entered the conference room and called out, “Nian, someone’s here to see you.”

“Who is it?”

“I’m not sure, they’re at the entrance…”

“At the company entrance? What’s going on?”

“I don’t really know, you’ll see when you go…”

Yin Nian took the elevator down, and upon exiting the lobby, she saw a man and a woman kneeling at the entrance, surrounded by a small crowd taking photos and whispering among themselves. As she approached, she realized the kneeling pair were Yang Yonggui and Yang Yongfang. She was surprised—they had found her company.

Yang Yonggui and Yang Yongfang knelt on both knees. In front of them lay a white cloth inscribed in red ink with several lines stating that Yin Nian had hit their mother with her car, leaving her near death, and that Yin Nian refused to admit responsibility. They were demanding justice by kneeling here.

As Yin Nian approached, someone in the crowd recognized her and the onlookers automatically parted to let her through. Yin Nian stood before Yang Yonggui and Yang Yongfang, pointing at them. “What you’re doing is malicious slander. I didn’t hit your mother—I saved her. You’re trying to extort me without evidence. Do you think I’ll be intimidated by this?”

Yin Nian immediately called the police, preparing to sue them for defamation.

However, when the officers arrived and investigated, they found that Yin Nian was indeed involved in a pending civil dispute regarding a traffic accident, and the complainants were the very ones causing the scene. If Yin Nian really had hit someone, then their actions did not constitute malicious slander but rather a legitimate claim. According to the principle that the accuser must present evidence first, if Yin Nian wanted to sue for defamation, she would first have to prove she hadn’t hit anyone.

“So now the villains have the upper hand?” Yin Nian was unhappy with the officers’ reply. “They’re making a scene and ruining my reputation. And you’re not going to do anything?”

“We can intervene, but only to persuade them to leave. Unless they become violent, we can’t detain them,” the officer explained awkwardly. “To resolve this, both parties need to sit down and have a proper discussion.”

“Mediation? I was the one who tried to help. Why should I be the one to compromise? Is there no justice left?”

“They’re the weaker party, after all…”

“Weaker? If they were truly vulnerable, they wouldn’t be here extorting me, making a scene at my company. Right now, I’m the one at a disadvantage!”

“We’re just trying to help you resolve this… How about this: we’ll get them to leave for now. Talk to your company’s security so they won’t let them near the building.”

“And if they make a scene in the plaza, or out on the street, then what?”

“As long as they’re not threatening public safety or order, there’s little we can do. If you didn’t hit anyone, just ignore them. The more upset you get, the more they’ll escalate. But if you don’t react, they’ll likely give up.”

“How can I ignore this? If it were you, could you just ignore it?” Yin Nian glanced around; the crowd was growing. It was lunchtime, people coming and going. Several acquaintances stopped to ask what was going on, and Yin Nian had to keep explaining she was being extorted.

Soon, the officers took Yang Yonggui and Yang Yongfang away. They hadn’t been violent, just weeping incessantly—especially Yang Yongfang, who wailed as she was led off, tears streaming down her face as if her own mother had died, a far cry from her belligerent demeanor the previous day.

After they were taken away, Yin Nian returned to the office, appetite lost. The entire company knew what had happened, and the gossip was relentless. One after another, colleagues messaged her or came by to ask. Yin Nian had to explain, again and again, until she herself was exhausted.

The whole afternoon, Yin Nian found it impossible to focus on work. Near the end of the day, the general manager called her into the office and showed her a news report. The story covered the traffic accident involving the old lady, featuring a brief interview with Yang Yongfang and three photos: one of Yang Yonggui and Yang Yongfang kneeling outside the company, one of Yin Nian talking to the police, and a close-up of Yin Nian, crisp and clear.

“You ought to settle this as soon as possible,” the general manager said, sipping his tea. “If the media keeps reporting on it, it could harm the company’s image and affect the stock price.”

“But I didn’t do anything. They’re the ones making a fuss,” Yin Nian protested, aggrieved.

“I know that, but in these situations, it’s hard to argue even when you’re in the right.” The manager blew on his tea. “If you need help, let me know. I can talk to the chairman, see if he can smooth things over through his connections.”

“How? If they sue me, we’ll go through legal channels. I’m not afraid, because I didn’t hit anyone. They have no evidence.”

“Smoothing things over means sitting down to talk. Ultimately, they just want money.”

“I won’t pay a cent. If I pay, it’s as if I’m admitting guilt. Then there’ll be no clearing my name,” Yin Nian said firmly. “I won’t swallow this indignity.”

“I understand how you feel.” The manager took another sip. “But my offer stands—if you need help, just ask.”

“I’ll handle this as quickly as I can,” Yin Nian said, leaving the office.

Yin Nian didn’t work overtime that day, unusual for her, as she normally stayed at least two extra hours. But she was in no state for work; she decided to go home, gather the necessary documents, and contact a lawyer in advance.

On her way downstairs, Yin Nian acutely felt the strange looks of those around her. Nevertheless, she held her head high, walking steadily forward. If anyone stared, she met their gaze directly, returning it with calm confidence.

Yin Nian understood that true strength comes from within.

She had always been confident—from childhood through adulthood, in life and at work. She believed a woman’s beauty should come from her heart, not just her appearance. Though she was strikingly beautiful—tall, fair-skinned, with large eyes and high cheekbones—her expression, when serious, was cool and poised; when she smiled, she was warm and open. She never hid her emotions, but neither did she let them rule her.

Driving away from the company, Yin Nian called a friend surnamed Li, asking to be introduced to a lawyer experienced in extortion cases. The friend promised to arrange it soon.

Nearing her apartment complex, Yin Nian saw a crowd gathered at the gate. Across the street, a white banner hung from a tree, emblazoned with large characters. She needed only to glimpse the first few words to realize it was directed at her—her name was on the banner, declaring that she lived in this complex and had refused to admit to hitting someone.

Beneath the banner, Yin Nian saw Yang Yonggui and Yang Yongfang kneeling and crying to the onlookers, who discussed the scene animatedly. Suddenly, someone shouted, “The one who hit her is here!”

The crowd quickly formed a circle around her Mercedes.

Yin Nian had no intention of getting out. She knew it would be useless—calling the police or arguing would only embolden the other side. She honked the horn, driving forward, intent on entering the complex.

Just then, a man in black appeared in front of her car, holding a blue sports jacket. Yin Nian instantly recognized it as the one she’d brought back for Yangyang from a business trip abroad, signed by an athlete—Yangyang’s favorite, which he often wore.

The man’s face bore a knife scar, his expression cold and his gaze sharp. He stood unmoving before the car.

Yin Nian sensed that this man was different from Yang Yonggui. If she didn’t stop, he might not step aside; besides, he was holding Yangyang’s jacket.

She stopped and called her husband, but there was no answer.

After a moment’s thought, Yin Nian got out, surveying the crowd calmly.

“This jacket—I found it. Do you recognize it?” The man swung the jacket as he approached.

“Where did you find it?” Yin Nian kept her composure.

“That’s none of your business.” The man took out his phone, showing a photo of Yangyang playing basketball in the jacket. “He told me his name is Yangyang.”

“If you lay a finger on him, I’ll make you pay,” Yin Nian said, her fists clenched, blood surging, though her face remained impassive. She struggled to control her emotions, knowing that an outburst would only play into the man’s hands and make her a spectacle for the crowd.

“Why would I hurt him? I’m not a bad person,” the man sneered. “But I can’t stand people who hit others and try to run, especially when the victim is my mother.”

His expression darkened, his gaze like a knife as he closed in on Yin Nian.

She stood straight and tall, meeting his eyes without a trace of fear.

At that moment, her phone rang. It was her husband.

“What’s wrong?” Liang Zhicheng’s voice came through.

“Is Yangyang at home?”

“Yes, he’s right here. I was cooking and didn’t hear the phone.”

“He’s okay?”

“He’s fine, right beside me. What’s happened?”

“Nothing. I’m at the gate; I’ll be home soon.”

Yin Nian got back in the car and drove forward. This time, the man didn’t block her, but as she entered the complex, he strode over, hanging the jacket on her headlight and grinning. “Let me introduce myself: I’m Yang Yongli. I believe we’ll be seeing each other often. And by the way, your son is adorable—I like him a lot.”