Chapter 44 Chen Angzang's money is 170 million...

"Chen Ang, have you lost your mind? 140,000. How are we supposed to live like this?"

Chen Ang looked at the ferocious-looking Wen Huilin. A trace of mockery squeezed into his gaze, but his tone was not angry at all. "Do you think this money shouldn't have been paid?"

"I'm not saying it shouldn't have been paid, but this is 140,000!"

Her voice was very low, but every word seemed squeezed out from between her teeth. "Where do you expect me to conjure up this much money?"

"Then what's your suggestion?" Chen Ang looked at her calmly. "Let the other party file a lawsuit? Once the lawsuit is over, we pay whatever the judgment is, plus legal fees of another few tens of thousands. And when the time comes, Chen Zetian's name will be written in black and white on the judgment. The child is only six. In the future, when he goes to school or looks for a job, that civil judgment record will follow him on his file."

Wen Huilin opened her mouth, choked on her words. She hadn't even considered these things. In an instant, she was like a defeated rooster, completely wilting.

Chen Ang changed his tone, becoming earnest: "Xiaotian is your son, and he is my son too. He caused trouble, so we as parents have to shoulder it for him. Paying for this lesson now is to teach the child a lesson, and also to buy him a clean file. This money is well spent."

Wen Huilin's eyes turned red; she was about to explode with anger. Hearing the phrase "Xiaotian is your son," she felt a fire in her heart but didn't dare to let it out, having to suppress it.

"Of course you'd say that." She gritted her back teeth. "Are you the one paying the money? You're just making me pay. You quit your job and are lying around at home; how much money have you wasted?"

"Wen Huilin." Chen Ang interrupted her, his voice not loud, but his tone had changed. "For these seven years, I've given you 8,000 for household expenses every month. I've never asked how much you spend outside, have I?"

Glaring at her, Chen Ang continued his assault: "You can't stand me lying at home for these few days? The money I've given you over these years adds up to at least 700,000. I've given you 700,000, and you're settling this account with me over 140,000 for our son?"

Wen Huilin looked like someone had grabbed her by the throat, her mouth open, unable to utter a single word. Chen Ang kept bringing up "for our son" at every turn; she couldn't even find a point to refute.

Sometimes she really wanted to press her forehead against Chen Ang's and shout: Chen Zetian is not your son.

Taking a breath to calm her violently heaving chest, she finally squeezed out: "Don't I earn money? I leave early and come back late every day..."

"That's enough." Chen Ang waved his hand, his tone returning to his usual indifference. "Now is not the time to argue about this. You saw Xiaotian's courage; he's already scared stiff. Also, remember not to scold him when we get back."

Wen Huilin was trembling with anger, forcing herself to swallow her fury.

She didn't speak again; she had no strength left, nor the mood. She had ten thousand curses in her heart, but every one of them died on her lips.

The police officer pushed the door open and placed the mediation agreement on the table, in duplicate.

Chen Ang took it, read it from beginning to end, scanned every clause, and then pushed it to Wen Huilin.

Wen Huilin's hand trembled slightly when she picked up the pen.

She recognized every word on the mediation agreement, but when strung together, she couldn't process a single one.

All she could see was that string of numbers: 140,000.

She silently calculated the balance in her bank account; her heart felt like it was being gripped by a hand, squeezing it until she couldn't breathe.

Her fingers gripped the pen tightly, turning white from the excessive force. The words written on the paper were not just her name, but her unwillingness.

By the time they finished signing and came out, it was almost four o'clock.

After getting in the car, Wen Huilin didn't speak the whole way, and neither did Chen Ang.

Chen Zetian sat in the back seat with his head down, not daring to make a sound. He clearly felt that Wen Huilin was a volcano about to erupt.

At that moment, he thought, it's good that this father will protect him.

Back home, Wen Huilin went straight into the master bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Chen Ang glanced at the closed door, a smile appearing at the corner of his mouth, because this 140,000 would be added to the claim list for fraudulent upbringing, and he would get every cent back.

Wen Huilin had lost another 140,000 from her savings; let's see how she lives in the future.

Chen Zetian knew he had caused trouble, so he slunk into the study and obediently took out his homework book.

Chen Ang sat down on the living room sofa, ready to scroll through short videos.

Glancing at WeChat, he saw a message from Ming Xuan with a photo of fried rice cakes, asking him if they tasted better than the ones at Bin University?

Chen Ang typed an "En" and sent it over, then ignored it and started cultivating his short video account.

In the master bedroom, Wen Huilin sat on the edge of the bed, clutching her phone. On the screen was the deduction notification from the bank.

She stared at the string of numbers for a long time, not blinking even as her eyes grew sore. 140,000... she couldn't swallow this anger.

Her phone suddenly vibrated; it was Jian Ting.

She hurriedly got up to lock the master bedroom door and sat back on the edge of the bed.

In the morning, after leaving Tu Yuandong's house, she had gone to the bank to check the transaction history of Chen Ang's card, but there was no useful information at all.

Afterward, she went to a phone repair shop and unlocked Chen Ang's old phone; sure enough, she found something.

It was the proof of purchase for that watch.

When she saw that the buyer was Xinhengtai Capital in Hong Kong, she was completely stunned.

Because in her impression, Chen Ang had absolutely no connection to Hong Kong.

Subsequently, she remembered that Jian Ting worked in the International Taxation Division of the tax system, so she immediately sent the picture to her to ask for help with the investigation.

Now, the results were out, and she answered the phone with a nervous heart.

"Sis, I found it. Xinhengtai Capital, registered in Hong Kong. This company invested in a subsidiary in Bin City called Hengxing Investment Management Co., Ltd."

"Hengxing Investment?" Wen Huilin frowned. She was certain she had an impression of this name.

Holding her phone while sitting on the edge of the bed, she kept recalling... then, she thought of the scene at the bank that day.

The conversation between the two employees had mentioned Hengxing Investment.

She instantly perked up and asked into the phone: "Does Chen Ang have a relationship with Hengxing Investment?"

"You already know?" Jian Ting's voice suddenly became very tight. "Sis, do you know who the legal representative of Hengxing is?"

"Who?" Sensing the abnormality in her best friend, Wen Huilin's voice also trembled slightly.

"Chen Zhuo. It's Chen Ang's younger brother, Chen Zhuo. The registered capital of this company is 24.9 million USD, and it was fully paid up—24.9 million USD—which arrived on October 18th."

The room suddenly became terrifyingly quiet.

Wen Huilin sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, holding her phone. Her back felt as if someone had splashed a basin of ice water on it, the chill running from her spine all the way to her fingertips.

Although she was only a financial clerk at the Urban Investment Company, having been exposed to it, how could she not know what "paid-up capital" meant?

This was a real remittance; it wasn't fake. It was real money wired into the public account.

"24.9 million USD?" She repeated the number mechanically.

On the other end of the phone, Jian Ting probably pressed a few keys on a calculator, then reported the result with a trembling voice: "At today's exchange rate, that's nearly 170 million RMB."

170 million.

Wen Huilin's vision went black, and it felt like something was buzzing in her ears.

She grabbed the nightstand for support, but her hand slipped, pushing the magazines on it all over the floor.

170 million. These words were like a heavy hammer, striking her brain one blow after another.

She had just paid out 140,000 that afternoon.

And that man, at the police station, had said with an earnest face, "I've given you 700,000 over these years; what's wrong with paying for our son?"

When he said that, he had 170 million in his pocket.

He has 170 million, yet he cried poverty while giving me 700,000; how could he do that?

How could he be so shameless?

Also, just how much money does Chen Ang's family have?

How much has he really lied to me about?

Before this thought could dissipate, Jian Ting on the other end of the phone suddenly let out a scream, so sharp that Wen Huilin almost dropped her phone.

"What's wrong???"