Chapter 3 Paternity Testing

Chapter 3: Paternity Test. Early in the morning, Zhengyuan Judicial Appraisal Institute.

This old building was hidden behind the Bin City Third People's Hospital. A row of electric scooters was parked at the entrance, and two middle-aged men, reeking of resentment, were squatting on the steps smoking.

Chen Ang parked his beat-up Magotan on the side of the road and pushed the door open to enter.

The receptionist was a woman in her forties, scrolling through short videos with the volume on full blast. She didn't even lift her head when she heard the door open.

"What business are you here for?"

"A paternity test."

The woman finally looked up and sized him up: a faded windbreaker, two days' worth of stubble, and dark circles under his eyes.

Another sucker who'd been cheated on and came to verify it.

She had seen plenty of such people and had already mentally stamped the verdict on the test results.

"Personal test or judicial test?"

"Personal."

"Six-hour rush service, double the expedited fee." She pushed a form toward him.

Chen Ang filled out the form, swiped his card, took the receipt, and when he turned around, his phone vibrated. It was Wen Huilin.

"Teacher Li called and said Zetian isn't feeling well. You go pick him up at noon and bring him home."

Chen Ang stared at the message for five seconds. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly; he didn't know if it was a smile or something else.

Then he typed two words and sent them back: "Okay."

Before heading to the school, he parked the car on the side of the road, went into a shop to buy a pack of cigarettes, rolled down the window, and lit one up.

Having quit smoking for seven years, the first puff made him cough violently, but the nicotine hit helped clear his head a little.

Even though he had cherished Chen Zetian for six years, if the results turned out to be true, he would have to face it head-on.

He stubbed out the cigarette and started the car.

He picked up Chen Zetian at the school gate. The child looked listless, pulled open the car door, called out "Dad," and curled up in the passenger seat.

Chen Ang once again felt the perfunctory and vague nature of that "Dad"; it was basically devoid of warmth.

Then he noticed a new toy stuffed into the side pocket of the child's backpack, the plastic packaging still intact.

Through the rearview mirror, he looked at the child's profile and only felt that he looked more and more like Wen Huilin.

He searched the whole way—the curve of his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose, his chin—but he couldn't find a single trace of himself.

Suspicion is a seed; once planted, it will sprout.

Hiding his emotions, he took Chen Zetian home and got him settled, then Chen Ang changed into slightly more presentable clothes before heading out.

Lawyer Shen's law firm was on the 23rd floor of the Financial Center, with floor-to-ceiling windows facing the river view.

Every inch of land here was worth gold; the rent for one square meter was higher than his monthly salary.

When Chen Ang pushed the door open, Lawyer Shen was on the phone and gestured for him to sit.

"Mr. Wang, I can't take this case. You should find someone else." She hung up cleanly and decisively after saying that.

Chen Ang sized her up. She was under thirty, wearing a dark gray suit jacket that accentuated her full chest. She had a low ponytail, light makeup, and deep facial features—not stunning, but very pleasant to look at.

She glanced at Chen Ang's attire; it was faded but clean, though his face looked visibly haggard.

There was no disdain in her gaze, but no warmth either.

"Mr. Chen?" She leaned back in her chair. "Yu Liang said you have a property dispute case?"

Chen Ang placed the file folder on the table. "It's not a dispute, but an asset that needs to be cashed out. I need professional legal support to ensure the process is legal and discreet."

"How much?"

"Two billion."

Lawyer Shen's fingers paused on the armrest.

If Yu Liang hadn't called personally, she probably wouldn't have taken this client.

She stared into Chen Ang's eyes for three seconds. After confirming he wasn't joking, she took a deep breath and reached out to take the file folder.

USB screenshots, printed pages of bitcoin market value, a handwritten explanation—she flipped through them for a few minutes without asking a single word.

When she closed the file and looked up again, her gaze had completely changed—not the look one gives a client, but the look one gives a puzzle.

"Mr. Chen, you need three things: an offshore account, a shell company registered in Hong Kong, and an explanation for the legal source of funds."

"Can you handle it?"

"Yes." She thought for a moment. "But I have conditions. The commission fee is 2.5% of the cashed-out amount, non-negotiable. All operations must go through me."

Chen Ang locked eyes with her for a moment; this woman was quick-witted and direct with her pricing.

He did a quick mental calculation—it would cost fifty million, which wasn't much different from the rates he'd researched online.

Selling 4,735 bitcoin would undoubtedly attract heavy scrutiny from the blockchain, exchanges, and even regulators.

Therefore, it was impossible for an ordinary person to handle it alone.

One must hire a professional OTC team, lawyers, and tax advisors to manage the whole process, otherwise, it would be suicide.

"Fine, but I also have conditions. First, no matter who you hire, I won't pay any additional fees. Second, the guarantor must be a licensed OTC institution. Third, absolute confidentiality."

Lawyer Shen's lips curled up slightly as she took the service agreement out of the drawer and pushed it over.

When signing, Chen Ang noticed her right hand trembling slightly under the desk. She was trying her best to control it, but Chen Ang still saw it.

In the face of two billion, anyone would tremble, and Chen Ang didn't point it out.

After signing and organizing the various identity documents, Lawyer Shen stood up to see him out.

Walking to the door, Chen Ang turned back and asked, "Lawyer Shen, how long until I can see the money?"

Lawyer Shen wasn't surprised; with so much money, who wouldn't be impatient?

"Five days for operations, and the first batch of money should be able to reach the Hong Kong account. But before that, you need to set aside a day to go to Hong Kong, the sooner the better."

Chen Ang nodded and turned to leave.

After leaving the law firm, he went to another street.

This was an old commercial district in Bin City, the office location of a private investigator he'd found last night.

He walked into a residential building without an elevator and climbed to the fourth floor. It was plastered with small advertisements: drain cleaning, high-price recycling of old appliances, and document forging.

After he knocked, the door was opened by a man who looked like a university professor—round face, early thirties, fair-skinned and refined.

The room was simply but neatly furnished, with a few folders and a laptop scattered on the coffee table. It didn't look like a private investigator's base at all.

"Brother Chen? I'm Jiang Shan."

Chen Ang sat on the sofa and placed a note on the coffee table. The note read: Bin A·7D461, black Audi Q7.

"I need all the information on the owner of this car."

"Marital issue?" Jiang Shan looked at the note, then at Chen Ang's face.

He had been in this business for eight years and could tell the client's state at a glance. The man before him was definitely not here to investigate a commercial dispute.

Chen Ang didn't speak, just nodded.

"Add one more person: my wife, Wen Huilin. I want the bank cards and communication records under her name, as well as her relationship with the owner of this car. I want everything that can be found."

Jiang Shan was silent for two seconds, then held up two fingers. "Pay a 2,000 deposit first, and you'll have a report within the day. Subsequent work will be charged based on the workload."

Chen Ang swiped his credit card to pay and stood up to leave.

"Brother Chen." Jiang Shan called out to him from behind.

Chen Ang paused but didn't turn around.

"I've been in this business for eight years. Let me give you a piece of advice: sometimes, what you find is more painful than what you don't. Are you sure you've thought this through?"

"If I hadn't thought it through, I wouldn't have come to you." Chen Ang replied and walked out the door.

A gust of cold wind hit his face. Chen Ang felt the chill drilling straight into his bone marrow. He tightened his coat, finally feeling a trace of warmth.

He checked the time; it was almost four o'clock. Just as he was thinking about the paternity test results, his phone suddenly vibrated.

It was an email. Chen Ang clicked on it with trembling hands, his eyes staring like knives at the two most prominent words: Excluded.