Chapter 187 Not Letting Go

"Of course... I saw it with my own eyes. It was in the innermost private room on the second floor of Shengli Tea House. The curtains were drawn, but I recognized your back and the red coat you were wearing."

"That's strange."

Qiao Wanyin carefully took out a shiny work ID from her bag, ran her fingertips lightly over the plastic cover to confirm it was genuine, and then slammed it down crisply on the glass table in the center of the dining table. The sound was clear and carried an undeniable air of authority. "The day before yesterday, I spent the entire day at the Municipal Mutual Aid Center for the annual training, a full eight hours, from nine in the morning to five-thirty in the afternoon. I didn't even leave the building during my lunch break. More than thirty colleagues were there, and any one of them can vouch for me."

Fang Wanyu's face froze instantly, her lips trembled slightly, and her eyes darted away, unable to meet Qiao Wanyin's gaze. "Then...then maybe...I must have mistaken you for someone else. After all, there were a lot of people that day, and the lighting was dim. I only glanced at you from afar, so maybe I really just confused you."

"You misread it?"

Qiao Wanyin's voice suddenly rose, her tone abruptly becoming sharp, as if a taut string had snapped. "Then how could you say it so clearly just now, even specifying which coffee shop I was standing in front of, what color coat I was wearing, and what time I appeared—you even got the location right, how can you call it 'misreading'?"

She whirled around, her gaze like a knife as she pierced Song Yazhi, who sat in the main seat. Her voice was a mixture of grievance and anger. "Mom, you heard it too. She spoke as if she had seen it with her own eyes, as if I were doing something shameful right under her nose. Now she thinks she can just dismiss it all with a simple 'I was wrong'?"

"Alright!"

Song Yazhi slammed her hand on the table, making the dishes rattle slightly. Her face showed a hint of sternness and impatience. "Wanyu was only trying to help you. She was worried that people would misunderstand you outside, so she mentioned it. Why are you making such a fuss about it?"

"For my own good?"

Qiao Wanyin sneered, a sarcastic smile curving her lips, but her eyes held no mirth. "So, does that mean that next time she sees someone who looks like me on a date, she can just accuse me of 'having a secret rendezvous'? She'll make up a lie under the guise of 'doing it for my own good'? I wouldn't dare accept such kindness, nor can I afford it."

The dining table fell silent instantly, and even the ticking of the wall clock seemed particularly jarring.

The air seemed to freeze, so oppressive that it was hard to breathe.

Fang Wanyu's tears welled up in her eyes, like dewdrops about to fall, crystal clear, yet reluctant to fall.

She bit her lower lip, her fingers gripping the hem of her clothes tightly until her knuckles turned white, and her shoulders trembled slightly.

Just as they were at an impasse, the front door to the living room was suddenly pushed open with a loud bang, and a blast of cold air rushed in, causing the curtains to flutter and the lights to flicker.

Fu Li'an walked in wearing a crisp military green uniform. The metal insignia on his shoulder straps gleamed coldly under the lights, and his collar and shoulders were still damp with the dew of the night, as if he had just returned from field training.

His military boots stomped on the floor with a steady, powerful sound, each step seeming to tread on people's hearts.

As soon as Song Yazhi saw her son enter the door, a bright smile immediately spread across her face, and the fine lines at the corners of her eyes smoothed out. She hurriedly stood up and greeted him warmly, "Maidong, come in, come in! Come and try the dumplings that Wanyu made herself. They're all filled with chives—your favorite since you were little. She specially went to the market to pick out fresh chives and washed them three times!"

Fang Wanyu had already skillfully ladled out a bowl of steaming dumplings, with white steam rising from the rim of the porcelain bowl.

She walked over with the bowl in both hands, her voice as sweet as honey, with a slight rise at the end: "Brother Maidong, I added extra dried shrimp and some minced ginger. I remember you said it would enhance the flavor. Eat it while it's hot, don't let it get cold."

Fu Li'an did not reach out to take the bowl.

He frowned slightly, his gaze passing over Fang Wanyu and landing directly on Qiao Wanyin, who was sitting at the dining table.

He walked over slowly, bent down, and said in a low, gentle voice with a hint of concern, "Don't you usually dislike chive fillings? They're supposed to give you a stomachache. Why are you eating them tonight?"

Qiao Wanyin looked up, winked at him with a grin, and said in a lighthearted tone as if she were joking, "Oh dear, today is a special day. Mom and Wanyu have been busy all night, kneading dough, preparing fillings, rolling out wrappers, and making dumplings. They've been standing and working for four or five hours straight. As their daughter-in-law, of course I have to support them. Even if I don't eat, I have to pretend to, otherwise I'll hurt their feelings."

Upon hearing this, Fu Li'an's expression shifted slightly. He then turned to his mother, Song Yazhi, and said in a calm yet firm tone, "Mom, you know that Qingqing is prone to stomach aches from eating chives. Don't make this filling anymore. Her stomach isn't good, and I'm afraid she'll hurt herself if she forces herself to eat it."

Upon hearing this, Song Yazhi's anger flared up instantly, her cheeks flushed red, and her fingers trembled involuntarily: "You... what did you say? What do you mean by that? Wanyu and I worked so hard all night, busy with the hot pot and cold stove, and this is what you say? You think we don't understand her body? Then let her cook for herself!"

Fang Wanyu's heart skipped a beat, and a sour feeling instantly spread throughout her body.

She lowered her eyes to hide the disappointment and jealousy in them, her nails almost digging into her palms.

She never expected that every time Fu Lian appeared, his first reaction was always to protect Qiao Wanyin. Even in the slightest argument, he would stand by her side without hesitation.

But she forced herself to smile, her voice so gentle it was almost dripping with tenderness: "Brother Maidong, Mom has been busy all afternoon, trying to knead the dough three times before finding the right consistency. How sad she must be after hearing what you just said, how heartbroken she must feel."

She paused, then added, her voice tinged with a hint of grievance, "Besides, when we were making dumplings, Wanyin didn't say she didn't like chive filling. She was all smiles and even praised how delicious the filling was. You really can't blame Mom; she just wanted you to enjoy your meal."

Fu Li'an frowned, a shallow "川" (river) shape forming between his brows.

His tone was calm and composed, without any hint of blame: "I'm not blaming anyone, not even Mom. I just mentioned it briefly; just be more careful next time. I know about Qingqing's health."

Song Yazhi stared blankly at her son protecting his wife, her heart feeling like it was being tightly blocked by a wad of soaked cotton, suffocating and unable to breathe.

She opened her mouth, but couldn't say anything.

She and Fang Wanyu worked hard for half a day, their hands turning red from the cold, all to make his favorite chive dumplings, hoping he would enjoy them when he returned.

And what was the result?

Instead of pleasing him with a single word, he was criticized and accused of "disregarding his wife's health."

He didn't even glance at it, simply because Qiao Wanyin didn't like the filling.

The steaming plate of chive dumplings was still emitting white smoke and smelled wonderful, but Fu Li'an didn't even touch it with his chopsticks.

He kept his head down, silently picking at the rice in his bowl, as if the plate of dumplings didn't exist at all.