Wind
A tranquility bordering on luxury, like new cotton soaked in warm water, enveloped the postpartum period in softness and warmth. Lin Xiaoning's life shrank to the crib, the nursing chair, and the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the lake and mountains. The air was perpetually filled with the distinct sweet, fishy scent of breast milk and the clean, fresh smell of baby powder. Her son, Lele, was named with her simplest, most unadorned wishes. He had remarkably clear eyes, his bright black pupils like two untouched springs, untouched by the world's rules and colors. When he ate and drank his fill, staring blankly into space with those pure eyes, or when the corners of his mouth unconsciously curled up in a faint smile in his sleep, Lin Xiaoning felt as if all the turbulence, filth, and unbearableness of the past were quietly diluted and purified by the light of this new life. She began to believe, almost devoutly, that this trivial yet real busyness surrounding concrete life, this sense of security that came from being completely relied upon and needed, might be life's ultimate and most solid answer. Like a shellfish that had found a safe haven after weathering storms, she carefully wrapped her heart, battered and cracked by reality, in this warm shell of family affection, attempting to shield it from all possible external storms.
However, the wall of reality is always leaky. The first sign of the strangeness came from Wang Shumin.
He was still conscientious and responsible. When he got home from work, he would rush to hold the child, his movements clumsy but extremely serious. At night, if the child cried, he would always be the first to wake up and get dressed. But something inexplicable had definitely changed.
He became unusually silent. When he checked his phone, his eyes would become vacant as he stared blankly at the screen. His after-work walks downstairs took longer and longer, and he would return drunk. When he woke up, his gaze fixed on the TV screen, yet it was empty, as if he could see through the noisy scene and see an unsettling, rolling cloud in the distance. He no longer looked around the house with the almost innocent satisfaction he had before the pregnancy. Instead, a persistent solemnity often hung between his brows, as if he was wary of some unseen threat.
Lele suddenly developed a high fever in the middle of the night, his little face flushed, and his crying became hoarse. Lin Xiaoning was so anxious that she was at a loss. Wang Shumin picked up the child, wrapped him tightly in a military blanket, and pressed his lips into a pale line. In the car rushing to the hospital, there were only the child's uncomfortable groans and the low roar of the engine. Wang Shumin suddenly whispered without warning, his voice as hoarse as if it had been rubbed by sandpaper: "This world... How did it become like this." The heaviness and helplessness in his tone were completely different from his usual simple and firm tone of "standing guard and defending the land." It was not a question, but more like a long-suppressed sigh. Lin Xiaoning's heart sank inexplicably, as if he had a premonition that the wind and rain that he tried to isolate were approaching silently.
Next, it was the parents. The mother's time helping with the childcare had noticeably increased, but the smile on her face felt like a carefully maintained mask. She'd often crack jokes about Lele, her mind wandering, her eyes drifting out the window, a lingering worry in her. The father was even more silent, the light in his study often burning late into the night, cigarette butts piled high in the ashtray. Once, Lin Xiaoning woke up in the wee hours to feed Lele and caught a glimpse of her father sitting alone in the shadows of the living room sofa. The light was off, and only a faint glow from the streetlight outside framed his hunched back, as if all his energy had been drained away overnight. She quietly retreated to her room, her chest feeling like it was clogged with a waterlogged sponge, making it hard to breathe. The air in the house seemed saturated with a silent, growing anxiety, so thick that every breath felt labored.
The real ignition started with Sister Wang's seemingly ordinary visit.
Sister Wang arrived in a hurry, carrying a basket of free-range eggs. Her voice was still booming, but her eyes gleamed with the irrepressible excitement of sharing a shocking secret. "Oh my Mr. Xiaolin! You're so oblivious to the world outside. You don't answer my calls, you don't reply to my WeChat messages, you're so focused on taking care of your chubby baby!" She put down the eggs, sat down on the sofa with familiarity, and lowered her voice, making it even more mysterious. "Something big has happened! Something really big!"
Lin Xiaoning's heart was slightly alarmed, but she remained calm on the surface. She poured her a glass of water and said, "Sister Wang, what's new?"
"New? It's a real sensation!" Sister Wang slapped her thigh. "Boss Liu! That crazy Liu Feng! That big African project he was in charge of, the one with a 50 billion yuan investment, is a complete failure!"
Lin Xiaoning's hand, holding the water, paused almost imperceptibly. She had read about that project before. It was the product of a previous merger and acquisition, the first step in Xuwu's ambitious international expansion after its IPO, a bet on the company's entire fortune.
"It is said that there was a sudden coup over there! The new government came to power, refused to acknowledge the old debts, and directly swallowed up the project! We invested more than 10 billion yuan in the early stage! I heard that the equipment alone was rusted after being shipped over and piled up at the port! It's all gone to waste! My God, 10 billion yuan, how much money is that..." Sister Wang said with saliva flying, as if the lost money was her own.
Lin Xiaoning's heart sank. She knew better than Sister Wang how dire the chain reaction of such a huge loss would be. It wasn't just a matter of money; everything would be wiped out.
Sister Wang observed her expression and continued to exaggerate, "Boss Xu is completely furious! I heard he's already smashed several phones in the office! And that's not all, several bank loans are due and are about to be repaid, with the interest rates snowballing every day! The bank is pressing for payment every day, and I heard they're about to apply for an asset freeze! This building is about to collapse!"
The news Sister Wang brought was like the first domino to fall. Then, between feedings, Lin Xiaoning picked up her phone and a "deep-dive" exposé from a local gossip blogger caught her eye like a venomous snake: "A Deep Dive into a Chemical Giant's 'PR Queen' and Her 'Hunting List.'" The title was sensational, and the content even more shocking. While not directly naming anyone, the indictment was clear. The article detailed how the PR team exploited beauty for personal gain, accompanied by numerous censored yet clearly defined screenshots of chat logs and suggestive photos. Among them, Zhang Jun's once sanctimonious face was deliberately magnified, along with his explicit flirtations with a girl from the PR department.
Lin Xiaoning's fingers instantly went cold, and she nearly dropped her phone. These chat logs, some of which she had been in the group chat, had clearly leaked from within, having been collected and compiled over time by someone with ulterior motives. The comments below the article were appalling, painting Changqing Chemical, and indeed the chemical industry, as a den of filth and depravity. She felt a surge of nausea and rushed to the bathroom, retching into the toilet but only vomiting acid. Fear, like icy vines, coiled around her feet, strangling her until she was practically suffocating.
The TV news during dinner confirmed the storm's arrival in a more serious and authoritative manner.
"...Our financial commentator pointed out that the major setback of Changqing Group's overseas investment project, coupled with the huge overdue debt it currently faces, has seriously shaken market confidence. Its stock price has plummeted for several days, and its market value has evaporated by more than two-thirds. The market is generally worried that its capital chain has broken..."
The screen showed the panicked faces of stockholders in the securities trading hall, and financial experts gravely analyzing the potential financial risks posed by Changqing. My father sat in front of the TV, his teacup resting for a long time, his face grim. My mother stood at the kitchen door, unaware that her apron string had come undone, staring blankly at the screen.
Wang Shumin turned off the TV with a bang, and the living room fell into a deathly silence. He turned his back to his family, his shoulders tense, his fists clenched and unclenched. After a long moment, he turned around and looked at Lin Xiaoning with difficulty. The complex expression in his eyes broke her heart—worry, anger, confusion, and the trauma of being deceived by a huge lie.
"You've known this for a long time, right?" His voice was low and hoarse, and every word seemed to be squeezed out from his throat with difficulty. "You used to do... this? 'Public relations'?" Those two words, when they came out of his mouth, carried a cold and contemptuous texture.
Lin Xiaoning opened her mouth, wanting to explain, wanting to say it was just part of the job, wanting to say she'd long since left that position, wanting to say she had no choice... But all the words stuck in her throat, feeble and powerless. Faced with the ironclad facts and the hurt look in Wang Shumin's eyes, any explanation seemed like a sophistry. Perhaps Wang Shumin had already been exposed to every detail in his work.
The air in the house seemed frozen, heavy and suffocating. Lele, sensing the suffocating atmosphere, suddenly burst into tears. Her sharp cries pierced the false calm, signaling that the storm sweeping in could no longer be contained.
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