The conference room was dead silent.
He suddenly lowered his voice, his military medals glaring in the sunlight:
"Want to touch the orphans of the martyrs?"
After a pause, he glanced towards the security department:
"First, ask the seven medals on the left breast of this military uniform if they agree! In battles big and small, which one wasn't paid for with a life?"
Half an hour later, Fu Qixun's adjutant hurried into the hospital, pulled Xiaocheng aside in the corridor and whispered to him.
When Qin Ying passed by with the medicine tray, she heard the fragmented words "Old Gun" and "Take Responsibility".
Her hand holding the pen paused mid-air, her eyes welling with tears. Blue-black ink spread across the "Compilation of Military District Regulations"—those 47 articles that Fu Hanzhou had read countless times.
Her vision gradually blurred, and the red and blue circle of the 47th line gradually enlarged into a bright arc of light in front of her eyes.
It turns out that Fu Qixun's "old gun" was never a weapon, but the gold thread on his epaulettes when he sat in the main seat, the blood-oozing bandage when Fu Hanzhou circled the rules for her, and the unconditional defense of the four words "martyr's orphan" by the entire military region.
The ink dripped next to the word "Qin Ying", smudged into the shape of a small shield - she suddenly understood that the barrier built for her by the Fu family father and son was stronger than any gun.
The military terms that once frightened her have now become armor to protect her: regulations are shields, medals are swords, and their trust is the bullet that is always loaded.
*
The dusk was as dark as ink, slowly seeping into the ward.
Fu Hanzhou half leaned against the head of the bed, his bony fingers pinching the "Investigation Record" left by the Security Department, his eyes fixed on the four words "Anonymous Report".
The edge of the paper was slightly wrinkled by his rubbing. He suddenly raised his eyes and looked at Qin Ying who was reading a book by the window.
The warm yellow halo split her figure into two, half immersed in the light, and the other half hidden in the shadow beside him.
Fu Hanzhou's voice was low, as if squeezed out from deep in his chest:
"Who would report you?"
The sound of turning pages suddenly stopped.
Qin Ying's fingertips stopped on the surgical diagram. She had thought about this question over and over again.
But the target of the surgery was too big, and she really couldn't think of a specific suspect.
She closed the book, and the image of Director Zhang suddenly leaving the operation in the middle of the operation resurfaced in her mind:
"They said you were hopeless."
Recalling the scene at that time, her breathing became involuntarily rapid.
Fu Hanzhou glanced at the surgical record full of annotations, unconsciously continuing to stroke the edge of the paper:
"But some people are more sensitive to the words 'no hope' than I am. Those who can accurately point out the problems with the surgery are either present at the time or are familiar with the military medical system."
He watched Qin Ying's increasingly nervous expression and stretched out his hand towards her:
"come over."
Qin Ying stood up and sat on the edge of the bed, and instantly fell into his bottomless eyes.
Fu Hanzhou stared at the word "spy" on the anonymous letter, then suddenly grabbed her hand. His fingertips gently stroked the lines on her palm, and he could clearly feel the slight trembling of her fingertips.
"The first possibility is that someone in the hospital thought your operation was 'nonsense' and a slap in the face of all the military doctors."
"It slapped all the military doctors in the face."
Outside the window, the sound of guards changing shifts came. Qin Ying clenched her pen tightly.
"The second possibility is...Gu Ping'an reported me for playing the violin before."
"She's in the detention center."
Fu Hanzhou's voice suddenly turned cold, and his Adam's apple rolled up and down:
"How can I deliver a letter while handcuffed?"
Qin Ying recalled the resentful look in Gu Ping'an's eyes when he was taken away, and continued:
"The third possibility..."
Fu Hanzhou suddenly tightened his grip on her hand.
"That's related to Gu Ping'an. Will her parents think that you're the one who put their daughter in jail? So... we have to do something."
The ward fell into deathly silence, with only the occasional sound of bubbles coming out of the IV tube.
Fu Hanzhou suddenly chuckled and gently stroked the back of her hand with his thumb:
"But it doesn't matter, no matter who it is—"
"What?"
He grabbed her wrist and pressed it against his chest.
"You saved my life. This is the best evidence."
Xiaocheng's footsteps were heard in the corridor. Fu Hanzhou straightened his back suddenly, but the wound was pulled and blood oozed out.
"Xiaocheng!"
He called out to someone and pressed Qin Ying's hand against his chest.
"Three things to do: First, get the original consultation records and find out who leaked the surgical details. Second, get the stub of Gu Ping'an's last report letter and compare it to the handwriting of the anonymous letter. Third, check Gu Zhenhua's phone records to see if he contacted the security department."
As Xiaocheng saluted, his eyes could not help but fall on Fu Hanzhou's bloody bandage:
"Captain, your wound needs dressing changed—"
"Follow the order first."
Fu Hanzhou pulled off the IV tube, and two buttons on his military uniform broke, revealing the slightly pale skin underneath.
"There must be a result tonight."
"yes!"
Xiaocheng put his feet together, saluted solemnly, and walked away quickly.
Qin Ying held his cold hand and felt the dense cold sweat on his palm.
"You're holding on."
She gently rebuked him, but he grabbed her wrist and pressed it against his chest, his voice low:
"I can handle it."
When he lowered his head, the shadow of the brim of his military cap obscured the dark thoughts in his eyes.
"But if it turns out to be a member of the Gu family..."
He sneered, his voice filled with chills:
"I'll let them know what the price is for touching my people."
At three o'clock in the morning, the incandescent lamp emits a cold light.
Fu Hanzhou held the three investigation reports brought back by Xiaocheng, and his knuckles turned white from the force.
The light stretched his shadow very long, and his tense posture was like a bow ready to shoot.
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