Chapter 312 Something Big Has Happened

Of course she understands.

I remember him standing alone on the empty playground, his back view as lonely as a withered tree in the wilderness.

"I'm afraid that... even you and the child will..."

His Adam's apple bobbed as his gaze fell on her slightly protruding belly.

"So, should we......"

He didn't finish his sentence; his voice choked in his throat.

His eyes, however, were fixed on her lower abdomen, where their child was growing, soft and fragile.

His eyes were filled with struggle, fear, and despair at wanting to protect but being powerless to do anything about it.

Divorce—a word he would never have considered before—had now become the only way out in his mind.

"don't want!"

She practically screamed it out, her eyes instantly reddening, her voice trembling with tears, yet stubborn as iron.

She grabbed his wrist with such force that she almost pulled him down.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she held them back with all her might.

How could she not understand his thoughts?

Of course she understands.

They would rather sink together than drift away alone.

"Marriage is about living life together, not about sharing happiness and going your separate ways when things get tough."

She gripped his arm tightly, saying, "We're not at our wits' end yet. Let's go home first and see what happens; maybe there's still a chance."

She spoke very quickly, as if she were trying to persuade him, or perhaps she was trying to persuade herself.

Every word carries a burning warmth, welling up from the deepest part of my heart.

She stared at him, her eyes filled with tears, anger, and an unyielding determination.

As soon as she said it, her heart sank.

Even so, she still wanted to hold his hand and walk together toward that unknown cliff.

If she had remembered this plot hole from the original story earlier, she could have taken precautions and wouldn't be in such a passive position now.

It's all because I've been too busy lately, busy with work, busy dealing with the trivialities of life, so busy that I feel like I'm about to lose my life, and I completely forgot about this important matter concerning my future and safety.

Fu Li'an stared at her, and a small crack appeared in the hard shell in his eyes, as if the ice was quietly melting under the spring sun.

He raised his hand and gently stroked her face, his fingertips calloused yet incredibly tender.

He gently wiped away the tears that had silently streamed down her face with his thumb; the tears were cool, yet they burned his heart.

“Silly girl,” he said in a low, hoarse voice, as if squeezed from the depths of his throat, filled with long-suppressed weariness and heartache, “I’m afraid of being a burden to you. You should have been living a peaceful life with me, but I’ve dragged you into this storm.”

"I'm not afraid."

She raised her head, her gaze meeting his with unwavering determination, her eyes showing no sign of backing down or hesitation. "Fu Li'an, the day I married you, I made up my mind that no matter how strong the wind and rain or how fierce the thunder and lightning, I would stand by you. I, Qiao Wanyin, never desert my post."

A gentle breeze blew across the balcony, through the half-open window, and lifted the stray hairs on her forehead, a few strands playfully clinging to her cheeks.

He reached out and gently tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear.

His fingertips brushed against her earlobe unintentionally, pausing for a moment, warm like the spring sunshine on her skin, bringing a comforting warmth.

"good."

He finally nodded, his voice low but firm, "Then let's go home and see what's going on. I won't hide, and neither will you. We'll face it together."

Pushing open the door, the lights inside were still on, and the luggage had been packed and neatly arranged in the corner, ready to be set off at a moment's notice.

Song Yazhi sat on the sofa with her back straight, clutching a family photo tightly in her hand, her knuckles turning white from the force.

In the photo, Song Heting is wearing a well-fitting Zhongshan suit with a neat collar and an elegant and composed smile, like someone who has stepped out of an old-fashioned magazine, gentle and refined, making people afraid to look directly at him.

“Mom,” Fu Lian said softly, her voice extremely gentle, as if afraid of disturbing something, “Nothing happened at the regimental headquarters. The news was false. Let’s proceed according to the original plan.”

Song Yazhi raised her head, her eyes red and swollen, as if she had been crying for a long time, with tears still glistening in her eyes. "Your father went to gather information. He just left and should be back soon."

No sooner had he finished speaking than hurried footsteps came from outside the door, followed by a loud thud as the door was pushed open.

Fu Xianxiu pushed open the door and came in. His face was even more somber than in the morning, and a thick layer of gloom hung between his brows, as if a stone was pressing down on him, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.

He clutched a crumpled piece of paper in his hand, his fingertips white from the force, and his shirt collar was soaked with cold sweat, clinging damply to his neck.

"Xianxiu?"

Song Yazhi stood up abruptly, her voice rising sharply with obvious panic, "What happened? What's going on?"

Fu Xianxiu didn't speak, his lips pressed into a thin line, and silently handed the paper to his son, his movements heavy as if he were handing over a mountain.

"Just received news that the investigation team has arrived at the Suzhou Municipal Party Committee. Anyone who has been associated with He Ting will not escape. The list has already been finalized, faster than anyone else."

Qiao Wanyin's heart tightened, as if someone had suddenly grabbed her heart, and her breath caught in her throat for a moment.

So fast?

In the original novel, the investigation team had to wait at least three days after Song Heting was arrested before taking action, giving his family and friends time to react.

The pace is faster than the script; it doesn't even give us a chance to catch our breath.

Fu Lian glanced at the words on the paper, the lines of names piercing his eyes. His brows furrowed quickly, a hint of malice flashing in his eyes. "Our family... is on the list too?"

"What?"

Song Yazhi snatched the paper, her fingers trembling uncontrollably, like leaves in the wind, shaking incessantly. "This... how is this possible? This... this is driving us to our deaths! We haven't done anything wrong, what right do they have?" Qiao Wanyin leaned closer to take a look, her gaze falling on the end of the paper, where a long string of names was densely packed, the ink still wet, each name like it was carved on a knife tip, cold and sharp.

The entire Fu family of four was included, and even she, the daughter-in-law who had only recently joined the family, was singled out.

Every name on the list was carefully circled in red, like an inescapable mark of fate.

Qiao Wanyin stared at the paper for a long time, her fingertips growing slightly cold.

She knew this was not just a simple travel notice, but a harbinger of an impending storm.

"The train departs at 3 PM."

Fu Xianxiu's voice was so low it seemed to rise from the ground, each word carrying a heavy echo, "We have to find Heting before they expand their search area."

He spoke with a somber look in his eyes, a furrowed brow, and his knuckles unconsciously rubbing the pass in his uniform pocket.

Time was of the essence; every minute and second was slipping away. All they could do was bring the person back before the political storm completely swept through.

Qiao Wanyin bit her lower lip so hard it almost broke the skin.

Of course she knew where Song Heting was—it was clearly written in the original novel that he had been secretly transferred to that abandoned farm on the outskirts of the city and imprisoned in a cold and damp cowshed, isolated from the world.

But she couldn't say it directly; if she spoke too bluntly, it would arouse suspicion.