Chapter Four: Turning the Tables

When Yin Nian returned home, she learned that the sweatshirt had been lost that afternoon when Liang Zhicheng took Yangyang to his basketball lesson.

“Yangyang, from now on, if you see a man with a scar on his face, you must stay far away from him. He's a bad person.” Holding Yangyang’s hand, Yin Nian warned him sternly, then turned to her husband. “Zhicheng, starting today, you need to keep a close eye on Yangyang at all times. Don’t let him out of your sight. If it becomes too much, ask my parents to help watch him.”

“No problem, I can take care of Yangyang,” Liang Zhicheng assured her.

Just then, the doorbell rang—as if speaking of the devil, her parents had arrived. They lived just one floor below. Both retired, they often traveled and enjoyed their lives, not particularly keen on babysitting; they believed children should be raised by their parents.

Yin Nian’s mother, always impatient, entered and immediately asked about the banner outside their building. Yin Nian explained everything from start to finish, during which time her father answered several phone calls—each one inquiring about the incident. The news had already spread throughout the neighborhood.

The speed at which the whole affair circulated far exceeded Yin Nian’s expectations; word of mouth traveled swiftly, and soon her friends heard about it too. Her closest friend, Han Duoduo—her college roommate—learned of it from an article on a public account. Han Duoduo called, and the two spoke at length. The conversation eased Yin Nian’s troubled heart; no matter what, at least her best friend, husband, and family still believed and supported her.

Before going to bed, her friend Li called to say he’d already found a lawyer—a seasoned attorney from Hongda Law Firm, highly experienced in handling extortion cases. The lawyer would contact Yin Nian the next day.

That night, Yin Nian slept fitfully, tossing and turning until she finally drifted off towards dawn.

The next morning, not long after she arrived at work, she was told those two people had returned—not outside the company this time, but in the plaza diagonally across the street. The same white cloth with red letters, the same kneeling and weeping before passersby. Today, they’d even enlarged and printed Yin Nian’s photograph, placing it alongside the banner.

Yin Nian called the police again. The officers came and persuaded the two to leave. Since they hadn’t endangered public safety or resisted, there was no reason to detain them—just a few words of warning.

Online coverage grew, some reports true, some false. Some claimed Yin Nian had hit someone, others said she hadn’t. But whatever the story, her photo and those of Yang Yonggui and Yang Yongfang kneeling and crying accompanied each piece.

Yin Nian never imagined she’d be swept into the whirlpool of online opinion, becoming the story’s protagonist. She was never afraid to confront things face to face or go through legal channels, but in the face of this “soft violence,” she felt utterly powerless.

At eleven o’clock, the general manager called her into his office again. Yin Nian remained resolute, but recognizing the potential damage to the company’s reputation, she agreed with part of his reasoning: he would use the chairman’s connections to sound out what the other party wanted—both to keep them calm and to gather information. Meanwhile, Yin Nian needed to collect evidence and prepare for legal proceedings.

At three in the afternoon, Yin Nian took a three-hour leave to meet with the lawyer.

At Ruomu Café, just opposite the company, the lawyer was already waiting when she arrived.

He was a young man, dressed in a crisp suit, with short hair, striking features, and a balanced physique.

“My name is Yan Ming. Here’s my card,” he said with a slight nod, handing her his card.

“Hello, Attorney Yan. I’m Yin Nian.” Noticing his youth, she asked out of curiosity, “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

“I’m twenty-eight. I became a lawyer at twenty-two, and I’ve been with Hongda for six years. If you’d like to see my credentials, I have them here. I’ve handled several notable civil cases—you can check them for yourself,” Yan Ming replied without arrogance or hesitation.

“That won’t be necessary. Anyone Brother Li recommends is surely capable.” Yin Nian took a deep breath, getting down to business. “Let’s talk about the case.”

She recounted the entire process: how she met Old Lady Yang, and how she was extorted by the old woman’s children. Yan Ming listened patiently, then asked a few questions, summarizing: “As for witnesses, we have three: Old Lady Yang, yourself, and your son Yangyang. Physical evidence consists of two things: the car itself and the dashcam. The police have already taken Old Lady Yang’s statement. Yangyang is young, but his testimony could still be useful—we’ll need to find a way for him to speak up. The most crucial evidence right now is the car and the dashcam. First, confirm—was the car damaged in any way?”

“No… Oh, wait, there was a minor accident the day before yesterday—a scratch I haven’t had repaired yet. But there’s video proof,” Yin Nian replied.

“Good.” Yan Ming made a note. “You mentioned that an hour of dashcam footage was deleted, but you don’t know who did it, correct?”

“I suspect it was Old Lady Yang’s children,” she said.

“That’s possible. They have the strongest motive.” Yan Ming tapped his pen thoughtfully. “If we can find out who erased that hour of footage and prove they have a direct interest in the alleged accident, that would solve everything. In court, it would not only serve as strong supporting evidence to prove you didn’t hit anyone, but we could also countersue them for intentionally destroying evidence and attempting to frame you—making them pay dearly for their actions.”

Yin Nian nodded silently, thinking how sharply he’d pinpointed the heart of the issue.

“If they accuse you of hit-and-run, we’ll play along, set a trap, and wait for them to step into it. If they don’t, but continue slandering you, we’ll gather evidence and go on the offensive—countercharging them with destruction of evidence and malicious framing,” Yan Ming said firmly.

“That sounds good…” Yin Nian’s worries eased after Yan Ming’s analysis.

“There’s no time to lose. Let’s find out who deleted that video now.” Yan Ming closed his notebook.

“Go to the hospital to check the surveillance?” Yin Nian had thought of this. “Will the hospital cooperate?”

“As a private individual, probably not. But with me, it’s different—lawyers are like a pass, making things much easier. And if they refuse, our firm can provide technical and social support. Don’t worry.” Yan Ming smiled, revealing a small dimple that softened his otherwise serious face.

At five in the afternoon, they drove over an hour to the hospital.

Yan Ming went straight to the hospital security office, produced his lawyer’s license and business card, and explained that he was accompanying his client to investigate and collect evidence, requesting the hospital’s cooperation. The security staff, reassured by his credentials and professionalism, didn’t probe further. After registering their identities, they pulled up the surveillance footage from eight in the morning to noon the previous day as Yan Ming requested.

They sped through the footage—it was dull and tedious, but Yan Ming watched intently, eyes sharp and focused. After more than half an hour, just as Yin Nian’s eyes began to ache, Yan Ming suddenly said, “Got it!”

The footage showed that at eleven a.m., a man in a black jacket approached the Mercedes, unlocked the door, got in, stayed about three minutes, then hurriedly left, bending over. As soon as he left, Yin Nian and the police arrived to check the dashcam.

Because the camera was far away and the lighting in the underground garage was dim, plus the man wore a hood, his face was completely indistinct. Based on his build and clothing, he appeared to be a slim male, about 1.75 meters tall.

Yan Ming paused the video, took a screenshot, enlarged it, and asked, “Does he look familiar?”

Yin Nian stared for a long time, frowning. “He looks a bit familiar… but I just can’t remember who he is.”

Yan Ming analyzed, “Judging by his proportions, he’s about 1.75 meters, slim. He approached the car without hesitation, went directly to it, pressed the car key in his hand to unlock it, and got in smoothly—he knew the car’s location and plate number in advance.”

Images flashed through Yin Nian’s mind: Yang Yonggui’s burly figure, Yang Yongfang’s red wavy hair, Yang Yongli’s gaunt silhouette. This man resembled Yang Yongli a bit, but she recalled Yang Yongli wasn’t that tall…

“Still can’t remember?” Yan Ming asked.

“No…” Yin Nian racked her brain, but the more anxious she became, the less she could recall.

“Don’t worry. Now that we have the time frame, we’ll find out who he is sooner or later.” Yan Ming noted the surrounding license plates—one Audi A6 was parked diagonally opposite the Mercedes. If it had a dashcam, it might have captured a clear image when the man passed in front of it.

“Keep thinking here. I’ll go check the underground garage.” Yan Ming hurried out.

Yin Nian sat, watching the footage over and over, desperately trying to recall the man’s image. There was an undeniable sense of familiarity, but she just couldn’t place him…

More than ten minutes later, Yan Ming called, his tone urgent. “Yin Nian, I’ve found something important. Come to the underground garage, quick!”

She hurried downstairs, finding Yan Ming talking to a middle-aged woman in a white coat. After introductions, Yin Nian learned the woman owned the Audi. When Yan Ming went to the garage, he’d seen the Audi still there, noted the owner’s phone number left on the dashboard, and called her out.

With some persuasion from both, the woman finally agreed to check her dashcam. Sure enough, at around 11:30 a.m. the day before, the camera had briefly activated, recording about a minute of footage. The woman played the video for them.

At 10:59, a man in black appeared from the opposite side, entering the Audi’s dashcam’s motion detection zone. At first, only his lower half was visible. Half a minute later, he walked to the Mercedes; now his full figure was in view, though still unclear due to his hat and the poor lighting. As he opened the Mercedes’s door and bent to enter, there was a fleeting moment when his face was illuminated. Instantly, Yin Nian gasped, the shock sending her body reeling backward—she nearly toppled inside the car.

“How could it be…” she murmured, face full of disbelief.

“You know him?” Yan Ming asked, freezing the frame.

“Know him?” Yin Nian clutched the seat, her face ashen. “He’s my husband.”