Chapter 308 The Real Disaster
But she had been craving it for ages!
Especially the braised pig's trotters at the state-run restaurant, which were fatty but not greasy, with a rich soy sauce flavor. As soon as they were served, the aroma could be carried by the wind for three blocks, making her dream about gnawing on trotters at night.
Fu Lian couldn't help but laugh when he heard this. He raised his hand and gently pinched the tip of her nose, his tone doting: "Okay, I'll listen to you. But don't have too many people. You're pregnant now, and too much noise isn't good for you and the baby."
"Okay!"
Upon hearing that she agreed, she immediately perked up, leaping up from her chair with slow but energetic movements.
She started counting on her fingers: "Political Commissar Wang, Deputy Brigade Commander Li, plus a few reliable people in your regiment... Hmm, Staff Officer Chen, Company Commander Zhang, Political Officer Zhao, and that clever little Liu should also be called!"
With a smile in her eyes, she muttered to herself while making serious plans, her face brimming with joy and anticipation.
The warm yellow light in the room illuminated her profile, making her look gentle and peaceful.
Little did she know—on this seemingly peaceful night, something terrible was about to happen to the Fu family.
A storm is quietly approaching.
"Ring ring—"
The phone rang suddenly, shrill and urgent, like a sharp blade slicing through the warmth of the room.
The phone suddenly rang.
The piercing ringing was like a gash suddenly torn open from the silence, so sharp it was startling.
Qiao Wanyin was nestled on the old fabric sofa in the living room, holding a ball of light blue yarn in her arms and a fine bamboo needle in her hand, intently knitting a baby sock.
The sky outside the window was slightly overcast, and only a dim yellow lamp was on inside the room. The light and shadow fell on her slightly protruding belly, making her look exceptionally peaceful.
But this tranquility was shattered in an instant.
She shuddered violently, her hand jerked, and the needle pierced her left fingertip without mercy.
"Hiss—" She gasped in pain and almost instinctively put her finger in her mouth, her tongue tasting a faint metallic flavor.
Blood beads had already appeared, standing out starkly against the pale fingertips.
She frowned and looked up, her gaze involuntarily sweeping over the wall clock—3:20 p.m.
Who would call at this time?
Military dependents' homes rarely have external phone lines, and all mail requires multiple layers of review.
A sense of unease crossed her mind.
Fu Li'an strode out of the study, his steps heavy and hurried, his leather shoes making a crisp echo on the cement floor.
His brows were furrowed, and his expression was grave, as if he had already sensed something ominous.
He grabbed the receiver from the telephone in the corner with a swift and decisive motion, but his voice was as steady as a stone pressed at the bottom of a river: "Hello, this is Fu Li'an."
"Brother! Something's happened!"
Fu Maihe's voice, trembling and broken, came through the receiver, sounding like she was about to collapse at any moment: "My uncle has been taken away for investigation! They said..."
They're to be sent down to the countryside! To a labor reform farm in Northwest China!
Her voice was choked with sobs, each word filled with fear and helplessness.
Fu Li'an's eyes narrowed sharply, his pupils constricted, and his Adam's apple bobbed.
He gripped the receiver tightly, his knuckles turning white, his voice low but extremely authoritative: "When?"
"This morning!"
Fu Maihe sobbed as she recounted, "My aunt just called and said the police arrived at the office at seven o'clock and took my uncle away on the spot. Later, they searched the house... The whole house was turned upside down, the cabinets were overturned, the bed boards were pried up, even the rice jar was emptied... They also found a letter, saying it was... evidence of treason... It was written to relatives overseas... But that letter wasn't written by my uncle at all!"
The ball of yarn in Qiao Wanyin's hand fell to the ground with a "thud," rolled a few times, and the blue yarn unraveled, like a winding stream.
She froze on the spot, her heart skipping a beat.
In that instant, my stomach tightened suddenly, as if someone had gently tugged at me from deep inside, and a slight but clear cramping pain spread out.
She instinctively touched her lower abdomen, her fingertips trembling slightly.
This scene from the original story has finally arrived!
Song Heting was framed for "colluding with foreign powers," and a forged letter became the fatal evidence.
Subsequently, the whole family was plunged into a storm, and the Fu family fell apart. Fu Li'an was transferred from his post, Fu Maihe was forced to go to the countryside, and the entire family was plunged into an ice cave.
She knew that the real disaster was only just beginning.
“Li An…”
She called his name softly, her voice so light it was almost like the wind rustling through the curtains.
But the husband's face was as white as paper, his lips were bloodless, and beads of sweat were faintly visible on his forehead.
His shoulders were taut, as if bearing an invisible weight, and he seemed to be nailed to the spot.
"Maihe, don't panic."
Fu Li'an finally spoke again, his voice extremely low, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth, with an undeniable calmness, "I'll take leave immediately and go back to Suzhou. Tell your aunt that no matter who asks, she can't say a word more than necessary. Just one word—'I don't know,' understand? Don't admit anything, and don't explain anything."
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a faint reply: "...Understood."
The receiver was hung up with a soft "click," the echo lingering in the empty living room for a long time.
He slowly turned around, his steps heavy, each step feeling like he was treading on mud.
Qiao Wanyin saw the anger and panic churning in his eyes, intertwined like a dark cloud before a storm.
That was an expression she had never seen before—the usually calm and resolute Fu Lian seemed to have had his spine removed, his eyes burning with resentment and anger, yet also concealing an unspeakable fear.
That look in his eyes was like the darkness before a storm, so dark and heavy that it was suffocating.
"Qingqing..."
Fu Li'an walked up to her, his voice dry and hoarse, as if his throat had been rubbed with sandpaper.
He grabbed her hand tightly; her fingertips were icy cold, yet the grip was almost painful.
A moment later, he noticed that her fingertips were as cold as ice, his heart tightened, and his tone softened immediately: "I'm sorry... I scared you. Something happened to your uncle."
Qiao Wanyin nodded gently, her eyes slightly red, but she tried to put on a reassuring smile: "I heard everything."
She gently grasped his hand in return, palm to palm, trying to convey some warmth.
"Shall we pack our things and leave now?"
Fu Li'an was taken aback, and his brows immediately furrowed: "You? No, you have to stay at the military dependents' home."
His tone suddenly turned stern, a hint of reproach flashing in his eyes, "You're almost three months pregnant. The journey is long and the car will be bumpy; if something goes wrong... I don't want to think about it."
"I absolutely have to go."
Qiao Wanyin's voice was still very soft, but it was irrefutable. Every word was like a nail driven into the ground, carrying an extraordinary power.
Her hand gently stroked her round belly, her movements tender, yet her tone firm: "I'm worried about you going back alone. Uncle is in trouble now, and the outside world is filled with fear and uncertainty. Who knows if even greater calamities await you? How can I stay here and pretend nothing has happened?"
She couldn't tell the truth—she couldn't tell him that she had traveled from another time and knew everything about the future.
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