Chapter 11 — Nine Months Post-Divorce

Yan suddenly thrust the phone back into the hands of his assistant and turned on his heel, ready to storm out. I called out to him, stopping him in his tracks.

Where are you going?

He hesitated for a fraction of a second.

The hotel.

I stared at his rigid, retreating back. If you rush over there right now, you will only be handing her an even grander stage to perform on.

Yan spun around, a suppressed fury blazing violently in his eyes. So you expect me to just stand by and let her slander you?

I met his gaze calmly. If she is so desperate for a stage, let us give her enough room to plant her feet. The higher she climbs, the more catastrophic her fall will be when the truth finally comes to light.

Yan stood frozen in place, a flicker of shock crossing his features. Dinh glanced over at me, his eyes sharp. You have already made arrangements?

I unlocked my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found a familiar number. It belonged to an old college classmate who now worked as a senior legal consultant for a prominent local media network. However, I had no intention of asking her to publish a retraction or break a story. I simply typed out a single, precise legal question: If an individual publicly disseminates fabricated documents to a live audience, what liability falls upon the broadcasting platform and the onsite operators? The reply came almost instantaneously. They would bear full civil and criminal responsibility. Without a word, I forwarded the link to the ongoing livestream.

Three minutes later, Rues broadcast suffered a sudden, inexplicable lag. Five minutes in, the feed was brutally severed.

Yet, the spectacle was far from over. The attendees still lingering at the venue were recording every second. Within moments, the assistant received a fresh barrage of video files. On the screen, security personnel were forcibly escorting Rue off the stage. She resisted fiercely, her voice shrill and desperate as it pierced the air. Why are you stopping me? They are terrified of the truth! Lan is only trying to strip the Yan family of everything they own!

At the exact peak of her hysterical screeching, two investigators in plainclothes pushed open the banquet hall doors. The chaotic room fell into an abrupt, suffocating silence. The color drained from Rues face, her features locking into a mask of pure terror. An investigator strode directly up to her, flashing his official badge. Miss Rue. We must ask you to accompany us and assist with our ongoing investigation regarding the deliberate fabrication of documents and the unlawful dissemination of private personal data.

The camera shook violently in the hand of whoever was filming. Someone in the background let out a sharp gasp of horror. Instinctively, Rue stumbled backward. I did not fabricate anything! Those papers... they were given to me by Aunt Fang!

In her blind panic, she threw Fang Shuhua under the bus once again. But this time, Shuhua was nowhere near her. There was no one left to shield her from the consequences. The video abruptly cut out.

A heavy silence settled over the quiet corridor. Yan stood clenching his fists so tightly that his knuckles had turned completely white. I watched him quietly. You see? It is not that she is incapable of telling the truth. It is simply that she must be driven into an absolute dead end before she is willing to utter even a fraction of it.

Yan closed his eyes, his breath hitching. I will ensure she pays for this. I said nothing more. Promises, when uttered too many times, lose all their weight and dissolve into thin air.

That afternoon, the hospital called to inform me that little Yis bilirubin levels remained slightly elevated, necessitating another two days of close observation. I sat on the edge of the sterile bed, gazing down at the tiny, fragile bundle resting inside the incubator, feeling as though a cold hand was slowly tightening around my heart.

The fierce power struggles and ugly machinations of the adults were worlds away from this innocent child. Yet, the accumulated malice of everyone around her seemed uniquely targeted at her existence.

As dusk began to bleed across the horizon, Dinh returned with a fresh piece of intelligence. The surveillance footage from the old Yan family estate has finally been successfully recovered.

I lifted my head, my eyes locking onto him. He extended his tablet toward me. On the screen, the dim, amber-lit hallway of the second floor on the eve of my divorce flickered into view. I could be seen signing the legal papers down in the grand parlor, with Shuhua standing attentively by my side. Meanwhile, lurking just out of sight behind the second-floor banister, Rue was crouching with her phone, secretly recording the entire scene. Moments later, she crept stealthily downstairs, and while I briefly stepped away to pour a glass of water, she slipped a single sheet of paper from the portfolio. That exact page was the blank authorization slip bearing my genuine signature.

I stared at the glowing screen as a profound chill crept through my chest, inch by inch. Dinh spoke softly, This footage is more than enough to serve as the pivotal piece of evidence.

Before I could voice my thoughts, my phone began to vibrate insistently in my palm. It was a text message from Yan. It contained only a single, stark sentence: The expedited DNA paternity test results are out; Yi is my biological daughter.

I stared down at the words, entirely devoid of the emotional upheaval I might have once expected. That Yi was Yans child was something I had known from the very beginning. The person who truly needed proof was never me. It was the man who had stubbornly refused to listen to a single word I uttered nine months ago. It was those very people who had repeatedly shoved me and my unborn child into the line of fire.

Almost immediately, Yan sent a second message. Lan, would it... would it be possible for me to come and take a brief look at her?

I fixed my gaze on the glowing screen for several agonizing seconds before wordlessly handing the device over to Dinh. You reply for me.

Dinh scanned the message, his expression unreadable as he looked up. How would you like me to answer him?

I lowered my gaze back to the incubator, watching Yi. She was no larger than a newborn kitten, her eyes sealed tight, her fragile breathing as light as a falling feather. Tell him that the test results merely establish a biological bloodline; they do not grant him any standing or qualifications.

Dinh nodded curtly, his fingers moving across the screen to dispatch the message without hesitation.

A long, quiet stretch of time passed, and Yan sent nothing further. I allowed myself to briefly believe that he had finally understood the depth of the chasm between us.

However, exactly half an hour later, the familiar sound of footsteps echoed down the hospital corridor once again. This time, there was no frantic rushing. The steps were agonizingly light, hesitant, and slow.

A nurse quietly slipped into the room to inform me, Miss Wen, Mr. Yan is waiting outside. He said he has no intention of stepping inside the room, but he wishes to hand some documents over to your attorney.

I glanced toward Dinh. Without a word, Dinh stood up and strode out into the corridor.