Chapter 336 New Breakthrough

His eyes instantly reddened, and he avoided looking directly into Lin Shuxian's eyes, which were filled with despair and questioning.

"Sister-in-law! Please don't do this!"

Lin Shuxian suddenly tilted her head back and burst into laughter, but her laughter was tinged with a heavy sob, and tears streamed down her face like a burst dam.

She suddenly turned around and knelt down in front of Mr. Fu without warning, her knees hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Her knees trembled, yet she stubbornly straightened her back, pleading with tears streaming down her face: "Please! Think of another way! Please! He Ting's health is poor, he really can't take that suffering! He'll die! He'll really die! I can't bear to live without him! Please save him..."

Mr. Fu's face turned deathly pale. He hurriedly reached out to help her up, his hands trembling so much he could barely hold her arm. His voice choked with sobs, "Sister-in-law, get up! Get up! You're shortening my lifespan! We're family, how can I not be worried? But the policy was decided by the higher authorities, it's all been issued, who can change it now? My heart aches too... I can't sleep either..."

Qiao Wanyin stood in the corner of the living room, motionless, but her heart felt as if it were being squeezed tightly by a rough hemp rope, tightening again and again, so painful that she could hardly breathe.

She looked at Lin Shuxian, who was crying uncontrollably, at Fu Li'an, who was bowing his head and blaming himself so much that he could hardly breathe, and at her parents-in-law, who were helpless and in tears.

The entire room was filled with a suffocating sense of grief.

Then, she took a step forward, her steps light but unusually firm.

Her voice was soft, even gentle, yet it was like a rock thrown into the center of a lake, steadily suppressing all the chaotic emotions: "Aunt, don't cry."

She raised her head, her gaze clear and calm, as if piercing through the gloom and reaching the depths of people's hearts: "I have another way."

Qiao Wanyin didn't explain much, nor did she look at anyone else. She simply reached out and gently but firmly grasped Fu Lian'an's wrist: "Lian, come with me. Now."

The two entered the bedroom one after the other, and the door slammed shut, shutting out the crying and oppressive atmosphere from outside.

Fu Li'an immediately lowered his voice and anxiously asked, "Qingqing, do you really have a way? Nobody can change this."

As he finished speaking, a deep sense of helplessness filled his voice, and his eyes dimmed.

This was the first time he felt that no matter how hard he tried, fate was like a cold wall blocking his way, making it impossible for him to move forward.

My heart feels terribly empty, as if all hope has been taken away.

“Li An”.

Qiao Wanyin gently interrupted him, took a step closer, and spoke in a voice so low it was almost a whisper, yet every word was clear: “What I got from Zheng Mingyuan… wasn’t just evidence.”

Fu Lian was taken aback, his brows furrowing sharply: "What do you mean?"

Qiao Wanyin did not answer, but silently walked to the old wardrobe by the bed, bent down, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a small bag tightly wrapped in dark blue coarse cloth.

The corners of the cloth were worn and white, and there were two small patches on the edges.

She squatted on the ground and slowly and solemnly unwrapped the cloth bundle, layer by layer.

When the last layer of cloth was lifted, the dim light inside shone on several antiques—

A blue-and-white porcelain vase with a warm glaze stands quietly, its body painted with landscapes and figures, the lines flowing smoothly, the glaze gleaming with the luster of time; a pair of finely carved white jade paperweights lie side by side, the jade translucent, the natural flocculent textures inside faintly visible, the four small seal characters "清心寡欲" (pure heart and few desires) engraved on them; there is also an ancient painting wrapped in brocade, the ends of the scroll inlaid with copper ornaments, the pages yellowed, clearly indicating its great age.

"this……"

Fu Lian'an's eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat, and he froze on the spot, staring at the objects in disbelief. "Where...where did you get these things?"

"These are cultural relics that Zheng Mingyuan embezzled."

Qiao Wanyin spoke softly, her voice low and clear, as if every word had been carefully considered, “He has hidden many in the dark rooms of the house. Those cabinets are stacked layer upon layer, like a maze. What is on the surface is just the tip of the iceberg.”

She didn't mention the space; it was a secret only she knew, one that she couldn't reveal even to her closest confidants.

Fu Li'an stared at her, his pupils contracting sharply, his Adam's apple bobbing, his voice trembling slightly: "When...when did you go upstairs? Did you go up alone?"

"While you were dealing with him downstairs, I took advantage of the chaos to sneak upstairs and climb over."

A slight smile played on her lips, revealing a hint of barely perceptible smugness and pride.

Fu Lian gasped, his chest heaving, then his eyes lit up as if he had seen light in the darkness: "You...you want to...do something with these things?"

Fu Lian'an's eyes burned brighter and brighter, like dry tinder meeting a raging fire, and he became excited: "Make amends for your crimes! Yes! This move is brilliant! As long as we hand over these cultural relics, proving that my uncle was protecting them, even if we can't completely overturn the case, public opinion will turn in our favor!"

"right."

She gently stroked the body of the blue and white porcelain vase with her fingertips, her movements as soft as if she were caressing a child's face. "These things are priceless. This batch alone is enough to shock the entire cultural relics world."

“

Fu Lian pulled her into a sudden, powerful embrace, so tight she could barely breathe. His voice choked with suppressed pain and a sudden surge of hope: "Qingqing, you...you're too cruel! How could you think of that? How can I thank you? I really...I really don't know what to say..."

Qiao Wanyin hugged him back, resting her chin gently on his shoulder, her voice as gentle as spring water: "We're family, no need for thanks. Blood is thicker than water, your uncle's business is my business. The most important thing now is to race against time, or it will be too late."

He released her, nodded vigorously, his eyes resolute as iron. The two returned to the living room, where Lin Shuxian was already sobbing uncontrollably, her face as pale as paper, her forehead beaded with cold sweat, leaning on Song Yazhi's shoulder, panting, one hand gripping the sofa armrest tightly, her knuckles white.

As soon as they came out of the room, everyone held their breath and turned their eyes to them, some anxious, some expectant, and some desperate.

"Auntie."

Qiao Wanyin squatted down in front of Lin Shuxian, kneeling on the carpet, and gently held her cold hand, her palm warming her. "Don't be afraid, Li An and I have a way. Let's try again! This time, we won't let Uncle suffer in vain."

In Zhang Wenjun's office, she reached into the faded canvas bag on her shoulder and carefully pulled out a small bundle wrapped in layers of dark brown oilcloth.

Her fingers trembled slightly, but she refused to stop.

She unwrapped the oilcloth layer by layer, her movements as gentle as if she were afraid of waking a sleeping baby, or as if she were handling some sacred, inviolable object.

With each layer uncovered, the atmosphere in the room grew increasingly somber.

Sunlight streamed in from the east-facing window of the office, bringing the warmth of an early autumn afternoon, and fell on the desk.

Right in the center of that beam of light, a pair of blue and white plum vases lay quietly in the oilcloth.