Viên Lộ Dao said coldly,
“Fine. Then let’s do a paternity test. If it really shows no blood relation, I’ll believe you.”
My father’s shoulders trembled slightly.
My mother stood to the side, not daring to say anything. She muttered under her breath,
“I’m even afraid of your stepmother… I don’t know how your dad dared to cheat, then let things get to the point of having a child out of wedlock…”
Thẩm Trân Trân was absolutely refusing to let them run the test. Clutching the baby’s body, she was practically hysterical.
“Lục Hoa Thịnh! The baby’s dead, and you still want to humiliate it? If it wasn’t yours, whose was it?! I carried your son, and this is how you treat me and my child?!”
Lục Hoa Thịnh turned away, unable to face her and the baby.
He tried to hold back. He was clearly on the verge of exploding, but in the end he swallowed his anger.
Viên Lộ Dao simply stood there, coldly watching the man she’d once paid to marry.
Perhaps she was wondering why, all those years ago, she’d lost her mind and fought another woman for a husband like him.
Thanks to Viên Lộ Dao’s connections, the test results came back very quickly.
Aunt Vuong meekly handed her the results.
She opened them and looked, the corner of her mouth curling as if in a smile.
With a thud, my father dropped to his knees right in front of her.
There were so many people there, and yet he went straight down on his knees.
“Honey, I was wrong! I won’t do it again…”
Viên Lộ Dao grabbed his chin, patting his face lightly as she gave a cold laugh.
“What were you wrong about? Didn’t you say there was nothing between you and her? You really are innocent—as it turns out, that child isn’t yours.”
8
My father’s eyes bulged like brass bells.
“?”
His face plainly said: Impossible!
The test results were flung down right in front of him.
He bent to pick them up, and his face instantly flushed red.
That child had no blood relation to him whatsoever.
I turned to look at my biological mother. We exchanged a glance that seemed to say: This drama just keeps getting better!
Lục Hoa Thịnh went berserk and staggered toward Thẩm Trân Trân, kicking her hard in the stomach—the very place she’d just had surgery.
“Whose kid is it?! You fucking dare pin it on me?! You shameless, despicable woman!!”
“You said you were poor, and I felt sorry for you, so I helped you. You thought that meant you could latch onto me?! You cheap slut!”
He was like a madman, kicking Thẩm Trân Trân over and over.
She was completely bewildered, too.
“That can’t be… I kept such careful track of the timing. It was obviously yours…”
“Please, don’t hit me anymore… please… sob… This test result has to be fake! Sob…”
If you’re going to be a mistress, you’d better be made of tough stuff.
Lục Hoa Thịnh had spent years sowing his wild oats, and now he’d finally gotten what was coming to him.
As soon as I went upstairs, I saw my mother slap him hard across the face.
“Your stepmother wants to return you now! And that five million I took all those years ago? Don’t even think you’re getting it back!”
And so Viên Lộ Dao packed up Lục Hoa Thịnh and me and sent us back to where we came from.
All of his bank cards were confiscated.
This time, Viên Lộ Dao was completely resolved: there was no going back on the divorce.
Seeing there was no way to salvage the situation, Lục Hoa Thịnh dropped all pretense and demanded a share of the assets.
“Viên Lộ Dao, I have the right to half the money you’ve earned since we got married! If you don’t split it with me, forget about getting a divorce!”
The more Viên Lộ Dao had trusted him, the more utterly her heart was shattered now.
The real Lục Hoa Thịnh had finally shown his face, leaving her utterly disappointed.
Viên Lộ Dao clicked her tongue softly and gave a frosty laugh.
“You want to settle accounts? Fine. I’ll settle them with you.”
Her company’s legal team was called in at once.
It turned out that before they married, they’d signed quite a few prenuptial agreements.
Back then, Lục Hoa Thịnh had been so eager to marry her, and so afraid she’d change her mind, that he signed anything put in front of him without reading it.
Only now, when they pulled them out and looked, did they realize every one of them was an agreement protecting separate premarital assets.
In short:
After the divorce, Lục Hoa Thịnh wouldn’t get a cent.
On the contrary, he’d have to pay back every cent he’d spent supporting his mistress.
By a rough estimate, he still owed Viên Lộ Dao… four hundred million.
Lục Hoa Thịnh was so furious he went berserk and raised his hand to hit me right then and there.
Luckily, I reacted quickly and dodged.
Missing me only made him angrier.
“You ungrateful little brat! If it weren’t for me, you’d never have set foot in a rich family’s home to eat well and wear nice clothes! You don’t know how to be grateful, and now you’re even plotting against your own father?! I must have done something awful in a past life to end up with you and your mother!”