Chapter 228 False Comfort
"you……"
Song Yazhi pointed a trembling finger at the two women, her voice hoarse and shrill, "You've set this up! You planned this all along, just to get back at us! This is a frame-up, a conspiracy!"
"Framed?"
Qiu Zishu sneered, her voice full of sarcasm and disdain, her eyes sharply fixed on Song Yazhi. "Aunt Song, now you know how to cry foul? But Sister Wanyin has solid evidence, in black and white, no, it's a written recording, crystal clear. Should we go find the leaders to settle this now? Go to the Political Department of the Military Region, and play this recording in front of everyone?"
Song Yazhi opened her mouth, but her throat felt blocked, and she couldn't make a sound.
The muscles in her face twitched, and the already deep wrinkles seemed to deepen even more at this moment, as if carved by a chisel, revealing endless fear and defeat.
Qiao Wanyin walked slowly to Fang Xiaoju, looked down at her with a sharp gaze, and said, word by word, "Fang Xiaoju, I didn't want to lower myself to your level. After all, you're from the cultural troupe, and I can't be bothered with those gossips. But there's one thing I can tolerate, except for the fact that you hurt my child—I absolutely cannot pretend I didn't see it, and I will never forgive you."
Fang Xiaoju slowly raised her head, her eyes no longer filled with the arrogance of before, but only with deep resentment and unwillingness. Her teeth were grinding together: "Qiao Wanyin, don't think you've won! You're smug today, but one day... you'll regret it!"
"What if one day sooner or later?"
Qiao Wanyin interrupted her directly, her tone suddenly turning stern and carrying an undeniable air of authority, "You still expect a future? I'll hand this recording over to the military region's security department immediately and have them investigate how Comrade Fang, a member of the prestigious cultural troupe, could scheme against a military family member! Let's see how everyone judges your behavior!"
Fang Xiaoju couldn't hold on any longer, and all her pretense collapsed completely at that moment.
Tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. She knelt down, sobbing and pleading, "Please...please...don't hand it in...If my uncle finds out, he'll beat me to death...I really know I was wrong..."
Qiu Zishu looked at her coldly, letting out a sneer. "Now you're scared? Weren't you so fierce when you were trying to scare us? When you said someone else's child was 'doomed,' weren't you afraid of being struck by lightning?"
Seeing that the matter had been exposed and there was no way to salvage it, Song Yazhi immediately changed her expression, forcing a smile and putting on a fawning face: "Qingqing, we're all family, why make such a fuss? There must be some misunderstanding... Xiaoju just acted impulsively and didn't think much of it, so don't take it too seriously..."
"Misunderstand?"
Qiao Wanyin scoffed, her sharp gaze piercing her. "Mom, how many 'misunderstandings' have you gotten involved in? Every time, you've used the guise of 'doing what's best for me' to actually scheme against others. I've had enough of your good intentions."
Song Yazhi's face turned deathly pale, then ashen, her lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.
She felt a tightness in her chest, couldn't catch her breath, and felt as if she were nailed to the spot, filled with shame and indignation, utterly humiliated.
Is Comrade Qiao here?
Suddenly, a series of urgent shouts came from outside the door, breaking the silence inside the room.
The voice was anxious, clearly indicating that the visitor had something important to discuss.
Seeing this, Qiu Zishu quickly helped Qiao Wanyin out of the house.
A guard in a green military uniform stood at the door, his hat slightly askew, beads of sweat on his forehead, and he looked extremely nervous.
"What happened?"
Qiao Wanyin frowned and asked, a faint sense of unease rising in her heart.
The guard's voice trembled slightly, his lips quivering as if he were trying his best to suppress his inner unease. "Comrade Qiao, Regiment Commander Fu had an accident while on a mission. His condition is very critical, and he is currently being treated at the Military Region General Hospital... The doctor said that his condition is not optimistic."
Qiao Wanyin's mind went blank with a "boom," as if she had been hit hard by a heavy hammer. Her ears were ringing, and the world in front of her instantly became blurry and distorted, as if covered by a thick black veil.
Her legs went weak, and she could barely stand. She swayed, as if her soul had been drained away, leaving only a heavy shell.
"take me."
Her voice was terribly hoarse, as if it were being forced out of a parched throat, and every word was tinged with pain.
Her eyes reddened instantly, and tears welled up in them, but she held them back tightly.
Seeing this, Qiu Zishu immediately stepped forward, reached out and firmly supported her swaying body, her voice full of anxiety and heartache, "Sister Wanyin, don't be afraid, I'll go with you! I'll accompany you to the hospital and stay with you the whole time!"
Song Yazhi sprang up from her chair, her face deathly pale, her eyes wide open. She staggered toward the guard, grabbing his strong arm tightly, her nails digging almost into his flesh, and cried out in a hoarse voice, "My son! My poor son! If anything happens to you, I won't live either! I won't live anymore—!"
She wailed and trembled violently, tears and snot streaming down her face, shouting incoherently, "Who killed my son? Was there a problem with the assignment from above? Was someone deliberately trying to harm him? You have to give me an explanation! You must!"
Fang Xiaoju rushed forward, supporting Song Yazhi's hunched shoulder with one hand and gently patting her back with the other. Her voice choked with emotion, but she tried to remain calm: "Auntie, please calm down... Brother Maidong is very lucky, good people are always protected by heaven, he will definitely be alright, you believe me... everything will be alright..."
As she spoke, her eyes reddened, and tears streamed down her cheeks, but she forced herself to hold back her sobs.
Qiao Wanyin watched all this with a cold eye, a sneer running through her mind.
She didn't want to watch them put on a show here, nor did she want to hear their hypocritical words of comfort.
She gritted her teeth, said nothing, and turned to walk towards the military green jeep parked in the middle of the yard, her steps firm and heavy.
The autumn wind swirled with withered yellow leaves in the courtyard, carrying a biting chill.
The wind tousled her long hair, brushing it messily across her face, revealing a bloodless complexion, her lips as pale as paper, and her eyes as cold as ice.
The corridors of the military general hospital were narrow and quiet, with pale white lights that looked like a layer of frost on the cement floor.
The red light above the operating room was on, its scarlet glow reflecting on everyone's faces, as glaring as blood.
Each flash seemed to be a reminder of impending death.
Qiao Wanyin sat quietly on the bench against the wall, her back straight, her hands tightly clasped on her abdomen, her fingertips icy cold, her nails digging deep into her palms, yet she felt no pain.
Her gaze remained fixed on the tightly closed door, unmoving.
Three hours have passed.
The hands of the watch moved slowly, each second feeling like a tug at her nerves.
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