Chapter 320 Visiting Others
She suddenly felt that her anger and grievances from just now seemed so insignificant at this moment.
Qiao Wanyin, the girl who usually couldn't even be bothered to wear high heels, stood in the center of the room, her gaze sharp as a knife, exuding an undeniable sharpness.
Her eyes were deep and resolute, as if she had endured countless sleepless nights to forge such a fierce determination from exhaustion, as if she had spent the entire night without closing her eyes, repeatedly pondering, struggling, and making decisions in the darkness, and finally developed an unshakable resolve.
Fu Lian stared at the floor, standing motionless for a long time. At his feet were shards of a broken cup from yesterday, the glass fragments gleaming coldly under the light.
His brows were furrowed, and his lips were pressed into a thin line, as if he had a thousand words stuck in his throat but didn't know where to begin.
The air was so heavy it was hard to breathe, and every second felt like it was being stretched out.
Finally, he took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly, as if trying to suppress all his anxiety and unease.
Then he slowly turned his head, his gaze falling on his wife's face, his voice low but sincere: "Qingqing, I was in a hurry just now, I'm sorry."
Qiao Wanyin shook her head, her tone calm yet warm: "I understand you're worried about her. I know what you're concerned about; if it were me, I would definitely stop her too."
She really understands.
She understands perfectly.
From childhood to adulthood, whenever her brother Qiao Yuanshan did anything even slightly dangerous, she would be unable to sleep all night, fearing that the phone would suddenly ring and bring the worst news.
If it were her brother who knew she was going to venture into dangerous territory, he would probably be even crazier than Fu Li'an, grabbing a baseball bat and rushing over without saying a word.
Fu Lian walked over slowly, as if afraid of disturbing this hard-won peace.
He gently held his wife's hand, his palm slightly warm, his knuckles strong, his gesture carrying a silent reassurance: "Tell me, how's the plan going? What can I do to help? Let me do my part."
At that moment, the warmth from her palm felt like a gentle stream slowly seeping into her heart, dispelling the last trace of chill in Qiao Wanyin's heart.
The taut nerve finally relaxed, and the piercing anxiety and self-blame were soothed away at that moment.
She nodded, calmed down, and began to explain her plan in a clear and organized manner: First, she would take advantage of the sisterly bond between Maihe and Zheng Xiaowen to create a natural opportunity for a visit and gain entry into the Zheng family home; once inside, she would prioritize checking places where things could be easily hidden, such as the study, the master bedroom's walk-in closet, and the side cabinet in the living room; she would open each drawer one by one, feel the stitching of hidden compartments for any abnormalities, and carefully search the shelves, especially the backs of old hardcover books for any hidden documents.
“Also,” she paused, her eyes narrowing slightly, “Zheng Mingyuan is a passionate collector of antiques, quite obsessed with them. The more valuable something is, the more he likes to hide it in inconspicuous places. So, we need to keep a close eye on those ornaments—vases, paperweights, bronze incense burners, even under inkstones, things could be hidden there.”
Fu Lian nodded thoughtfully: "That's right, these kinds of people always have quirks. The more secretly they hide things, the safer they feel, forgetting that no matter how well a thief is guarded, there will always be clues left behind."
After saying that, he turned to stare at his sister, his gaze stern yet concerned: "Maihe, if you're going, you must be fully prepared. This is no joke; if you're discovered, the consequences will be unimaginable."
Fu Maihe's eyes lit up, and the corners of her mouth couldn't help but turn up, her eyes sparkling with anticipation: "Brother, you agreed? You mean you're letting me go?"
"I did not agree."
Fu Li'an said calmly, then raised his hand and gently ruffled her hair, "But you've made up your mind, and there's no stopping you. Rather than letting you make a rash decision on your own, we'd rather accompany you to the end, at least we can protect you."
Qiao Wanyin suddenly remembered something, her brow twitched, and she quickly added, "There's one more thing—Maihe, you must pay attention to the traces of overprinting paper or typewriter marks. That letter... is most likely fake. Real evidence wouldn't be written so neatly. If it was forged with a typewriter, the letters would be slightly misaligned, and there might be a blue-purple mark of overprinting paper on the back of the paper."
Fu Li'an glanced at his wife, a hint of approval flashing in his eyes, and said softly, "That's right. We also need to check if the ink color is correct and if it matches the style of the documents from back then. We also need to pay attention to the condition of the paper. If it's freshly printed, the edges will be a bit rough, it will feel prickly to the touch, and it won't have that brittle feel that comes with age."
The three of them squatted under the lamp, forming a circle. Above them was a dim, yellow chandelier, the light reflecting off each person's face and casting several shadows of varying depths.
They meticulously examined every clue, even scrutinizing the teeth marks on the lock—which direction the lock was opened from was more likely to leave scratches, which key had been recently tampered with, breaking everything apart and analyzing it carefully, repeatedly simulating all possible scenarios.
It wasn't until the old-fashioned wall clock struck twelve, its cool chimes echoing in the night, that the three of them slowly straightened up. Their shoulders and necks ached, and their eyes were sore, but none of them complained of being tired.
The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, the breakfast stalls on the street had just set up their stoves, and the air was filled with the aroma of fried dough sticks and soy milk.
Fu Maihe sat by the window, holding his phone, took a deep breath, and dialed Zheng Xiaowen's number.
"Xiaowen, this is Maihe."
Her tone was light and her smile natural, like she had just finished a glass of iced lemonade, making her look refreshed and radiant. "The weather is nice today. I'd like to come over to your place and see the new tea set you mentioned last time. Are you free?"
Zheng Xiaowen's familiar voice came from the other end of the phone, and she responded with a smile.
The call lasted less than two minutes, but it already laid the groundwork for the actions to come.
Although Zheng Mingyuan tricked Song Heting and resorted to many underhanded tactics, on the surface, the Fu family and the Zheng family still maintained a long-standing friendship.
The two families' fathers used to do business together, and they would visit each other during festivals, exchanging gifts and favors without ever stopping.
That's why an ordinary visit wouldn't arouse suspicion.
It was only natural for her to visit.
As usual, on an ordinary weekend afternoon, the sunlight shone on the sycamore trees at the entrance of the alley, and the dappled light and shadows swayed gently in the wind.
The streets were quiet and languid, with the occasional tinkling of bicycle bells passing by.
Fu Maihe carried a bag of roasted chestnuts he bought from the street corner and walked briskly toward the familiar little villa.
She was wearing a light blue dress, her hair was slightly curled at the ends, and she had a sweet smile unique to young girls on her face.
All of this seemed so ordinary, as if she really was just visiting her best friend, having a chat, and listening to an old song.
But only she knew the true purpose and risks behind this visit.
Qiao Wanyin and Fu Li'an stood in the corner, even their breathing was slowed down, and their ears were perked up.
They hid behind a large tree at the corner of the alley, their eyes fixed on the wrought-iron gate in front of them.
Qiao Wanyin crossed her arms over her chest, her brows furrowed slightly, her eyes revealing undisguised worry; Fu Li'an stood ramrod straight.
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