Chapter 5 — One DNA Test, Two Truths

My attorney was waiting inside. Truong Dinh refused to sign the papers. That was entirely fine; I had an abundance of time to drag this out with him. The court summons would arrive much sooner than he could possibly imagine. The litigation proceeded with remarkable smoothness. The evidence in my possession was overwhelmingly complete. The lawyer hired by Truong Dinh was cross-examined by my counsel to the point of utter speechlessness before the judge. His scandal of marital infidelity and asset concealment once again dominated the front-page news. Ultimately, the court officially pronounced our divorce. Full custody of our son was awarded to me. The sprawling riverside villa we had purchased after our marriage became my sole property. The seven million that he had illicitly transferred out was forced to be returned in its entirety. Furthermore, as the fault-bearing party, he was ordered to pay me a substantial sum for emotional distress. He walked away with absolutely nothing.

On the day the judgment was handed down, I encountered him right outside the courthouse. He lunged forward, attempting to grab me by the arm, but was swiftly intercepted and pushed back by my bodyguards.

"Hua Yun! You vicious, ruthless woman! I will never forgive you!"

He stood behind the barrier of the crowd, screaming his lungs out at me. I paused in my tracks, slowly turned my head, and looked at him. I offered him a calm, mocking smile. Then, I stepped into my waiting car and drove away with unhurried arrogance.

The Truong family empire collapsed entirely. My father-in-law—or rather, the man who should now be addressed as Truong Kien Quoc—was successfully resuscitated at the hospital, but the ordeal left him stricken with a severe stroke. Half of his body was permanently paralyzed, and even his speech became slurred and incomprehensible. The very first thing he did upon being discharged from the hospital was to divorce Tran Tu Lan. He cast her out of the Truong household without giving her a single penny. Due to the cascading scandals and the paralyzing succession crisis, the Truong Corporation was systematically acquired at a rock-bottom valuation by the board of directors acting in concert with external capital. The life's work that Truong Kien Quoc had spent decades building was thus handed over to strangers on a silver platter.

With the settlement funds, I joined forces with a group of like-minded attorney friends to establish a non-profit legal aid center. Our guiding motto was simple yet resolute:

"Let us give voice to every woman trapped in silence."

We specialized in providing pro bono legal assistance and psychological counseling to vulnerable women who were suffering from domestic violence, property infringement, and other harrowing marital injustices. My office was no longer housed within a cold, towering skyscraper, but had instead transformed into a warm, brightly lit sanctuary. The walls were covered from top to bottom with colorful thank-you cards sent by the women and children we had successfully helped. I was no longer addressed as "Director Hua," but had instead become "Attorney Hua" in the hearts and mouths of everyone around me.

That lazy afternoon, I was quietly organizing a stack of litigation documents when the receptionist's call came through the intercom.

"Attorney Hua, there is a woman named Tran downstairs asking to see you, though she doesn't have an appointment."

"She says she is your former mother-in-law."

The fountain pen I was holding paused mid-stroke.

"Send her up."

A few minutes later, a soft knock echoed against my office door. The person who stepped inside was Tran Tu Lan. She was draped in an expensive mink coat, yet it utterly failed to conceal the haggard, deeply weathered exhaustion etched across her face. She looked at me with a complex, shifting gaze—one filled with lingering jealousy, bitter resentment, and a subtle, cringing subservience.

"Yun Yun..."

She forced out a smile that looked far more painful and grotesque than weeping.

"No, Attorney Hua."

"Could we... possibly have a word?"

I gestured toward the seating area, inviting her to take a seat. She awkwardly lowered herself onto the sofa. The luxurious mink coat she wore clashed jarringly with the minimalist, modern aesthetics of my office.

"Attorney Hua, you have certainly... made something remarkable of yourself now."

She rubbed her hands together nervously, her eyes darting repeatedly around the room.

"I came here today because I wanted to..."

She trailed off, hesitating. I remained silent, simply waiting for her to continue.

"I want to apologize to you on A Dinh's behalf."

"He knows he was wrong, truly and deeply wrong."

"Right now... his life is unimaginably difficult."

As she spoke, the rims of her eyes rapidly reddened.

"He has to work as a food delivery driver, enduring the scorching sun and torrential rain day after day, constantly cursed at and humiliated by strangers."

"He has grown so thin and gaunt that he barely looks human anymore."

"Yun Yun, for the sake of the years you spent as husband and wife, and for the sake of Le Le..."

"Could you... perhaps give him a hand up just this once?"

I stared at her coldly.

"Give him a hand up? In what way?"

Her eyes instantly lit up, mistaking my inquiry for a glimmer of hope.

"Your firm is so vast and powerful, you could easily arrange a position for him somewhere."

"It doesn't even have to be a high-ranking role; just make him a department manager or something similar so he can have a decent, respectable job."

"After all, he is a graduate of a prestigious university, and his capabilities are still there."

I let out a low, humorless laugh.

"Mrs. Tran, my establishment is a legal aid center, not a charity organization."

"The people we assist are victims, not perpetrators of harm."

Her facial expression froze instantly.

"You... how can you possibly say such a thing?"

"No matter what transpired, he is still Le Le's biological father!"

"Can you really bear to watch him continue living in such misery?"

"Aren't you afraid that when Le Le grows up and realizes how destitute his father was, he won't be able to hold his head high among his peers?"

She began resorting to cheap moral blackmail to bend my will.

"That is hardly something you need to trouble yourself over."

I stood up from my desk and walked over to the wall adorned with heartfelt notes of gratitude.

"As for my son's future, I am fully capable of securing it properly."