Chapter Eight: The Son's Testimony

Yangyang sat in the middle of the sofa, flanked by Liang Zhicheng and Yin Nian. Across from them sat Han Duoduo and Yan Ming, and diagonally opposite were Grandma and Grandpa.

“Yangyang, could you tell everyone what happened the day of our trip, when we met Granny Yang?” Yin Nian asked.

Yangyang kept his head bowed, fingers interlocked, twisting his hands nervously.

“Yangyang, it’s all right. We’re all here, you don’t need to worry,” Grandma gently coaxed.

“Just say what you saw, nothing more, nothing less. As long as you speak truthfully, there’s nothing to fear,” Grandpa added reassuringly.

Yangyang pressed his lips together firmly, twisting his fingers even harder.

“Yangyang, Yangyang—” Han Duoduo called his name twice before he finally looked up at her. She smiled softly and said in a gentle voice, “A real man has the courage to talk about things that frighten him, to face his fears. I know you’re brave, aren’t you?”

Yangyang sniffed and glanced at Liang Zhicheng.

Liang Zhicheng stroked Yangyang’s head, his tone filled with warmth and sincerity. “A true man faces his fears bravely and, more importantly, holds honesty above everything else. I hope you can tell us exactly what happened. Just describe what you remember—no one here will pressure you or force you. Whatever you say, none of us will blame you, not even your mother.”

Yin Nian nodded, supporting both Liang Zhicheng and Yangyang.

Yangyang twisted his hands, lips pressed tight, clearly torn. Liang Zhicheng kept encouraging his son, knowing his child was introverted and shy, unlike many children who loved the spotlight. He also knew Yangyang was honest and kind; if he spoke, it would be the truth.

After everyone’s persistent encouragement, Yangyang finally began to speak.

“I was sitting in the back seat… I couldn’t see very clearly…” he said softly.

“That’s okay, just tell us what you saw,” Liang Zhicheng encouraged, gently rubbing Yangyang’s back.

“That morning there was fog… very few cars on the mountain road… Mom was chatting with me, asking what gift I wanted for the start of school. I said I didn’t need anything… And then…” Yangyang’s voice grew quieter and quieter; everyone leaned in, holding their breath.

“And then… suddenly, a dark figure appeared on the road ahead, hidden in the mist, blurry, I couldn’t see clearly…” Yangyang’s body began to tremble, his voice shaking with him. “Mom saw the figure too… but it was too late, the car was already very close… She braked, but the car hit the figure… In that instant, I saw the figure turn its head to look at me… It was an old woman, her face full of fear… I heard her let out a sharp scream, then she was flung away, like a bird…”

“What?!” Yin Nian, who had been frowning throughout, could no longer contain herself and leapt to her feet, only to be restrained by Liang Zhicheng, who pressed her shoulder and murmured, “Wait, let Yangyang finish. Didn’t we encourage him to speak? Go on, Yangyang.”

Yangyang buried his head, huddled in on himself, too anxious to continue.

“See, you’ve scared him,” Liang Zhicheng said to Yin Nian. “Don’t get worked up; let the child finish.”

“But he’s lying,” Yin Nian said heatedly.

“Let him finish, then we’ll discuss whether or not he’s lying, all right?” Liang Zhicheng replied.

From the look in his eyes, Yin Nian saw a rare flash of anger. She turned away and fell silent.

With more guidance and encouragement, Yangyang finally spoke again. “Mom hit the old woman… The car stopped suddenly by the roadside… Mom’s head hit the steering wheel and she got hurt…”

At this, Yangyang glanced at Yin Nian, who instinctively touched her forehead. There was still a lump, swollen and tender, and just a few days ago she had wondered how it came about.

Yangyang lowered his head, his voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz. “After Mom got out of the car… the old woman was lying on the road, curled up, covered in blood… Mom knelt down to check on her, and soon after, I heard Mom call out… then she suddenly fainted on the ground…”

“This—” Yin Nian started, but Liang Zhicheng stopped her with a look, signaling her to let Yangyang finish.

Yangyang seemed chilled, shivering all over, his face pale, eyes full of anxiety. He was silent for a while before continuing. “I got out and called for Mom… but she didn’t wake up. I tried calling Dad, but there was no signal in the mountains. I tried sending a message, but it wouldn’t go through… I was so scared…”

Yangyang began to cry softly. Liang Zhicheng wiped his tears and gently rubbed his back.

Between sobs, Yangyang continued, “After a long while, Mom finally woke up… She told me we had to bring the old woman to the hospital… When we got there, Mom told the doctors she hadn’t hit the woman, that she was only helping her. She told the old woman’s family the same, and the police as well… So when others asked me, I didn’t know what to say, because I didn’t want to lie, but I was afraid Mom would be angry if I told the truth. And I didn’t understand why she said what she did…”

Yangyang buried his face in Liang Zhicheng’s arms, his thin back shaking with each sob, looking so pitiful and helpless. At his age, he couldn’t possibly grasp the complex implications of what he’d witnessed; the truth he saw was at odds with what his mother claimed. He was confused, anxious, and afraid.

Liang Zhicheng comforted him softly, “It’s all right, Yangyang. Sometimes, saying what’s on your mind is all you need. Your mother won’t blame you, nor will we. But you must promise you’re telling the truth. Can you tell us—is everything you said true?”

Yangyang looked up at Liang Zhicheng, then at Yan Ming and Han Duoduo, and finally his gaze settled on Yin Nian. She looked at him with a complicated expression. Yangyang nodded slowly, a new firmness in his eyes. “I didn’t lie.”

As he spoke, Yin Nian felt as if something was being sucked out of her, leaving her limp and drained. She leaned back on the sofa, pressing her forehead and gasping for air.

Han Duoduo came to sit beside her, holding her hand in silent support.

Yin Nian breathed deeply, and when she had recovered somewhat, she looked at Yangyang and, struggling to contain her agitation, said, “Yangyang, why are you lying?”

Yangyang hid in Liang Zhicheng’s arms, silent, crying, and fearful.

“The situation wasn’t like that at all. Why are you lying? Why?!” Yin Nian was on the verge of exploding. She had hoped her son’s statement would clear her of suspicion, but instead he’d accused her in front of everyone, saying she’d hit the old woman.

Under his mother’s stern questioning, the usually quiet Yangyang suddenly shouted, “I’m not lying! You’re the one lying!”

He rushed into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

His sobs continued in broken waves. Only after Liang Zhicheng went in to comfort him did they slowly subside.

Yangyang’s testimony caught everyone off guard. For a long time, no one knew what to say.

At last, Yin Nian’s mother broke the silence. “Yin Nian, what’s really going on? Tell the truth.”

Yin Nian stared in disbelief. “What do you mean, tell the truth? Are you saying I was lying before?”

Her mother, always quick-tempered, slapped the table. “Look at the uproar this has caused with Granny Yang’s family—they’re on their knees begging. Now there’s a bloody towel, and Yangyang’s statement. Everything points to you. It’s not that I don’t believe you, I just want to know what really happened.”

Her father tugged at her mother’s sleeve. “Don’t be so hasty. Let’s talk calmly; our daughter isn’t a child anymore…”

Her mother jerked her arm away, her voice rising in anger. “If we have to pay, we’ll pay. It’s not as if we can’t afford it. Eight hundred thousand isn’t the end of the world. Don’t worry about it—we’ll handle it.”

Her father hurried to stop her. “Don’t say that. Eight hundred thousand isn’t a small sum. And besides, our daughter hasn’t finished explaining. When will you ever change your temper?”

Yin Nian looked at her mother. “I have nothing more to say. Either I hit her or I didn’t. I know the truth, and that’s all that matters. I’ll handle it myself.”

“Still so stubborn!” her mother snapped, face flushed, slapping the table. “Are you saying Yangyang is lying? Even if he is, would Liang Zhicheng lie? Would a video lie?”

Yin Nian paused, then looked at Liang Zhicheng. “You told them about the video?”

Liang Zhicheng nodded. “They kept asking, so I told them. But I said I couldn’t see clearly and deleted it by mistake…”

Yin Nian felt drained, shaking her head with a sigh. “You people…”

Her mother wanted to say more, but her father held her hand. “Let’s just leave it for now.”

Her mother snorted and turned away.

Yin Nian lowered her head, looking desolate—not just sad, but deeply disappointed. In her heart, she’d believed her family would support her unconditionally, believe her without question. Yet now, one by one, they doubted and accused her, dragging her down into a pit she couldn’t escape…

After another long silence, Yan Ming cleared his throat. “Ms. Yin, what should we do now?”

Yin Nian raised her head. “Isn’t that your job to tell me?”

Yan Ming gave a wry smile. “If the other side learns what Yangyang said, it will be very bad for us. Our plans will have to change again. Also, I want to ask—was everything Yangyang said false? Was any of it true? Think carefully.”

Yin Nian stared at him. “You don’t believe me either, do you?”

Yan Ming scratched his head. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. I just find it strange… Don’t you think it’s strange yourself? Yangyang said the bruise on your forehead came from the accident. Is that true?”

Yin Nian didn’t answer, but shook her head in disappointment. “Just go.”

“Go? But the case—”

“I’ll find a lawyer who believes me. You can go.”

“Ms. Yin, I do believe you, I just—”

“Go!” Yin Nian raised her voice, her tone resolute.

Knowing further explanation was pointless, Yan Ming glanced at Liang Zhicheng, rose, and left.

“I’ll see him out,” Liang Zhicheng said, following behind.

Her mother was still fuming, convinced her daughter had hit someone and refused to admit it. Her father sipped his tea in silence, watching his wife and daughter closely. Han Duoduo held Yin Nian’s hand, quietly offering comfort.

Five minutes later, when Liang Zhicheng returned, he saw Yin Nian and her mother in a heated argument. Both were agitated. Liang Zhicheng stepped in to calm Yin Nian, but she shook him off and shouted, “None of you believe me! No one! But I believe myself—I know I didn’t hit anyone! Don’t expect me to surrender!”

Her mother tried to retort, but her father pulled her away. At the door, he turned back and said, “I’ll take her home to cool off. We’ll come back later… Ah, mothers and daughters…”

After seeing them out, Liang Zhicheng returned to find Yin Nian leaning on Han Duoduo’s shoulder, her eyes red-rimmed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her cry.

Han Duoduo lifted her head and looked at Liang Zhicheng. They exchanged a long, silent, expressionless glance.

Somewhere, the door to the small bedroom had opened a crack. From behind it, a pair of bright, watchful eyes gazed out, unblinking, at everything unfolding outside.