Chapter 311 Difficult Decision
Fu Lian glanced back at her, hesitated, and finally just nodded: "Okay."
The corridor of the regimental headquarters was eerily quiet; even the hum of the fluorescent lights could be clearly heard.
The fluorescent lights overhead cast a stark white light, making the shadows long and cold.
The military regulations sign hanging on the wall remained motionless, as if monitoring every inch of air.
Qiao Wanyin sat on a bench at the end of the corridor, her fingers unconsciously clenching the hem of her clothes until her knuckles turned white.
Her gaze was fixed on the tightly closed door, as if she could see through the wooden planks and witness everything that was happening inside.
She lowered her head, gently placing one hand on her protruding belly, her fingertips trembling slightly.
She pressed her belly against her stomach and whispered in a voice only she could hear, "Don't be afraid, baby. Mommy's here, Daddy will be out soon. We're not afraid, we're a family, no one will abandon anyone."
Time passed by, second by second.
Forty minutes passed, and the door remained tightly shut, without the slightest movement.
She couldn't help but start to have wild thoughts: Had news of Song Heting's matter already reached the higher-ups in the military region?
Could someone use this as an excuse to link this matter to the Fu family?
Will Li An be held accountable?
Her child...
Could it be that before even being born, one is already burdened with a burden they shouldn't have to bear?
She bit her lower lip, forcing herself to calm down.
But that invisible pressure surged up like a tide, wave after wave, almost drowning her.
Just as she was about to stand up, the door creaked open.
The sound was slow and grating, like the groaning of an old wooden door hinge that hadn't been lubricated for years in the cold wind, accompanied by a slight tremor, echoing through the silent corridor.
Fu Li'an strode out, his face much more relaxed than when he went in.
His steps were steady and powerful, his leather boots making a clear "thump-thump" sound on the cement ground. His shoulders and back were straight, and the solemnity between his brows had quietly disappeared, as if a heavy burden had been lifted.
Although a trace of fatigue still lingered in his eyes, his expression was no longer tense, and a faint, relieved smile even appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"How about it?"
Qiao Wanyin went to meet her, her voice very low.
She walked briskly forward, her heels lightly tapping the ground, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes.
The cold wind ruffled the stray hairs on her forehead, but she didn't bother to fix them. Her eyes were fixed on Fu Lian'an's face, and her voice was almost squeezed out from her throat, filled with uncontrollable trembling and anxiety.
Fu Lian took the coat from her hand and said in a low voice, "It's nothing. It's just a routine conversation before the promotion."
He took the dark gray wool coat, draped it over his shoulders with practiced ease, buttoned up the collar, and then answered in a low voice.
His tone was gentle and calm, but he deliberately avoided her gaze, as if he was hiding something, or as if he didn't want her to see the lingering unease in his heart.
Qiao Wanyin let out a long breath, and her shoulders finally relaxed.
She slowly exhaled the breath she had been holding in her chest for a long time, as if a huge stone had been lifted from her heart. She swayed slightly, then steadied herself by holding onto a pillar against the wall.
My tense nerves finally relaxed, my arm hung down, and my fingertips felt slightly numb.
The investigation team has not yet extended its reach to the military region.
At least for now, there's been no movement.
The unspoken words hung like a thin mist between the two.
They all knew that a storm was approaching outside, and the wind direction was unpredictable, but at this moment, the small area of the military region was still relatively calm.
This tranquility is like the thin ice on a lake in the early morning; it appears intact, but in reality, it is so fragile that it would shatter at the slightest touch.
Stepping out of the regimental headquarters building, the late autumn wind felt like a knife scraping my face.
A cold wind swept up from the empty playground, carrying withered leaves and dust, howling and hitting people's faces.
Qiao Wanyin subconsciously shrank her neck, and the wind lifted a corner of her scarf, revealing her reddened ear tips.
The sky was overcast, the clouds hung low, and a few bare old trees in the distance swayed in the wind, their branches like withered bones cutting through the gray sky.
Fu Li'an silently moved to the upwind side, shielding himself from the cold wind.
He shifted his feet slightly, subtly turning to the side and standing still. His broad shoulders and back formed a barrier, blocking out the raging north wind.
His coat billowed and fluttered in the wind, yet he remained motionless, like a silently guarding mountain.
“Li An,” Qiao Wanyin bit her lip, “Just now at the regimental headquarters…they didn’t mention my uncle, did they?”
Her voice was very soft, as if afraid of disturbing something; her lips were slightly pale, and her nails dug shallow crescent-shaped marks into her palms.
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with trepidation and unease, as if mentioning that name would instantly ignite a fuse that was about to explode.
Fu Lian paused for a moment, then shook his head without saying a word.
He stopped, his toes lightly tapping the ground, his throat bobbing, but no sound came out.
He simply shook his head slowly and firmly, the movement extremely light, yet like a stone falling into a deep pool, stirring up silent ripples.
"It wasn't mentioned. But this matter can't be kept secret for long."
He finally spoke, his voice low and deep, as if squeezed from the depths of his heart.
His tone was so calm it was almost indifferent, but beneath that calm lay an undeniable heaviness.
He knew that an investigation was only a matter of time, and once he was implicated, no one could escape unscathed.
His tone was calm, but beneath it lay a heavy unease.
That unease, like an underground current, surges quietly, unseen yet powerful enough to shake the very foundations of the land.
He didn't look at her, his gaze fixed on the gray camp wall in the distance, a barely perceptible shadow passing through his eyes.
Qiao Wanyin quietly grasped his hand—his palm was as cold as ice.
Her fingers gently reached out and hooked onto his, her fingertips icy cold and trembling slightly.
She gripped his hand tightly, as if that would allow them to transfer their body heat and gradually dispel their fear and helplessness.
He didn't say a word on his way home.
The two walked side by side on the path leading to the family quarters. Fallen leaves covered the path, making a soft rustling sound as they stepped on them.
The wind was still cold, and the sycamore trees along the street were bare.
Fu Li'an remained silent, his hands in his coat pockets, his brow slightly furrowed, as if he were weighing some extremely difficult decision.
He suddenly stopped just before he reached the door.
He paused, his body stiffening for a moment, as if nailed to the spot by some invisible force.
The wind brushed past his temples, lifting a few stray hairs.
He turned around and looked directly at her, his eyes filled with a complex and almost heartbreaking expression.
"Qingqing".
His voice was so low it sounded like it was pressing on his chest, "You probably don't know, but my uncle is in trouble, and the Fu family... might not escape either. Including me."
Every word seemed to be squeezed out of his throat with difficulty, carrying suppressed pain and self-blame.
He spoke slowly, almost to himself, yet he had to make sure she could hear him.
He knew that once this news got out, it would cause a huge uproar in her heart.
Qiao Wanyin's heart clenched suddenly.
She shuddered, as if she had been stabbed unexpectedly, and felt a tightness in her chest that made it hard to breathe.
His fingers tightened instantly, his nails almost digging into his palm.
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