DNA report

　Mo Jie looked at his mother's red, sleepless eyes with concern. 

Yesterday, he and Leng Mei Yi had deliberately left them alone. Don't adults always do this? When they encounter problems, don't they always need to talk about them? Why didn't they come to the conclusion, "Okay, let's get married"? ...

 Could it be that he was too optimistic? 

　　Just as he was thinking this, Mo Jing'er spoke up. 

"Mo Jie, how much do you know about yesterday's events?" 

"Huh?" The milk in his mouth nearly spilled out, and he quickly swallowed it awkwardly. "What are you talking about, Mom?" He feigned ignorance, blinking innocently. 

"Mo Jie!" 

　　"Are you talking about the uncle and aunt who came yesterday?" He pouted in protest. "They're Mom's friends, aren't they? Why are you asking me about them? If they're not your friends, then who are they?" 

"They're your—Mom's friends." Seeing her son's dejected expression, Mo Jing'er swallowed her accusatory words. 

　　"Right, I knew they were Mom's friends." Mo Jie chuckled to himself. 

Mo Jing'er felt that her son's expression was off. "Xiao Jie, you mustn't lie to Mom, or your nose will grow like Pinocchio's." 

"Hmm." He nodded vigorously, trying his best to keep his lips from curling upward. 

　　Since the kitchen assistant was absent today, Mo Jing'er stayed in the kitchen to help out. Perhaps everyone could tell she was in a bad mood, so few people spoke to her. 

As usual, when the crowd gradually dispersed, the kitchen door was quietly pushed open a crack without anyone noticing. 

Leng Yan frowned as he looked at the woman's back. 

　　From the back, she looked rather disheveled, but then again, when a woman is covered in grease and sauce stains, it's hard to look modern. 

　　The report stated that she worked at least fifteen hours a day at this 24-hour restaurant, earning two salaries to repay the debts and living expenses she had accumulated in the past. She was clever; over the years, she had managed to drag out the debt for so long by borrowing from one creditor to pay off the previous one, gradually reducing the burden. 

　　All the women he had dated in the past were adorned with gold and silver, perfumed and made up, going to great lengths to dress themselves up to please men. To be honest, he had never imagined any of them looking disheveled or unkempt. Moreover, the jobs those wealthy young ladies had done were either modeling or acting, or they had opened galleries or small cafés with the money from their families. 

　　But Mo Jing'er was different; she was truly "working." 

　　Thinking of this, he couldn't help but admire her. Even in the United States, where society is more open, it's still no easy task for an unmarried mother to raise a child on her own. And she was only twenty-seven this year, which meant she had become pregnant with Mo Jie at nineteen, when she was not much older than a child herself. 

Finally, someone in the kitchen noticed him and looked at him in surprise as he strode into the kitchen. 

"Miss Mo." 

　　"Wow!" Taken completely by surprise, she jumped up and spun around quickly, nearly colliding with him. 

"While you have a moment, we need to talk." 

"I don't have time." 

He flicked his wrist, grabbing her hand holding the spatula, which clattered to the floor. 

　　No one dared to intervene; they were all stunned by his face, twisted with anger like that of Satan. 

"Call the woman at the door to take over." He ordered domineeringly. "Unless you're willing to talk here, I don't care." 

Damn it! She should have known that once his stubborn temper flared up, nothing could stop him. She looked at Winnie, who was standing by the door, watching them with concern, and forced a smile. "Please tell the boss that I'm going out for a bit." 

"Let's go." He grabbed her arm, and as soon as she took off her apron, he carried her away in front of everyone's astonished eyes. 

　　The few customers scattered around the restaurant watched in surprise as Mo Jing'er and a tall stranger walked out hand in hand, looking very intimate. 

Mo Jing'er silently cursed every speculative glance directed at her. Didn't they see how tightly he was holding her hand? She couldn't even break free if she wanted to. 

　　"Get in the car." A black Mercedes was parked outside the restaurant. He opened the passenger door, and Mo Jing'er got in, still fuming. 

　　It wasn't because she was afraid of him—she told herself that, anyway, she had to talk to him. 

　　As soon as he got into the driver's seat, he locked all the doors. 

　　"What are you doing?" 

　　"I don't like conversations being interrupted." 

　　"Hmph!" She puffed out her cheeks angrily. 

　　Looking at her expressive face, Leng Yan unconsciously relaxed his mood and even felt a hint of amusement. 

　　Really, she still couldn't hide her thoughts. 

　　He suddenly jolted, rapidly thinking about the words that had just flashed through his mind. 

　　Had he really known her before? 

"Hey, did you bring me out here just to watch you space out?" She had been searching for the car door handle for a while, yet he was still standing there dumbfounded. 

"—Do you remember what I told you about being mentally prepared?" 

"Everything you said to me yesterday was nonsense!" 

　　Leng Yan suppressed his temper. It was strange—whenever he encountered this little woman, his temper flared up like a Spanish bull, ready to explode at the slightest provocation. 

He grabbed a document from the backseat and threw it at her. 

"What's this…" she exclaimed in surprise. 

　　"This is the DNA test report from Mo Jie. It's the blood sample data he left behind when he was hospitalized. I had two experts examine it, and the results match mine." 

"That doesn't prove anything!" she shouted. 

"Doesn't it? The DNA test proves our father-son bloodline. I can tell the world that you abandoned your biological father—oh, don't think no one will believe it. Money talks." 

"You—what do you want from me?" 

"I want you to marry me." 

"Forget it! Even if your family owns a gold mine, I'll never marry you." Even kittens have tempers. 

Strange, how come everything was predicted by Mei Yi? Women are truly strange creatures. 

"Get out, Mr. Leng. The sooner you leave my sight, the happier I'll be." 

"If that's the case, why did you mess things up in the first place, forcing me to notice you?" 

Women, a bunch of hypocritical creatures. 

If Leng Yan truly intended to confuse her, Mo Jing'er had to admit he succeeded. 

　　"Who would provoke you? What are you talking about? I don't understand a word you're saying." 

Hmm... Looking at her innocent expression, Leng Yan suddenly felt the urge to reevaluate her. If she wasn't the "traitor angel," then who was she? 

"But we used to be together, right?" No matter what, he had to confirm this point. 

　　"...I was very happy back then." Even if she had been deceived, she had accepted it willingly. She recalled her solemn vows from back then. "You—were you badly injured back then?" She remembered him mentioning a car accident last time, and couldn't help but stare at the prominent scar on his face, wanting to reach out and gently touch it. 

The air was filled with confusion. 

　　No woman had ever asked him such a caring question, her voice filled with reluctance. No one... 

"Let's call it a day for now!" He exhaled a long breath. 

She naturally agreed. Just as she was about to open the car door, she turned back as if she had thought of something. 

"What do you mean by 'causing trouble to get your attention'? And do you really have a company?" 

　　He couldn't believe it. "You don't know?" 

"What should I know? That you're now rich enough to rival Greek shipping magnate Onassis?" 

She didn't realize she had said the wrong thing; he was even richer than Onassis. 

"But even if that's the case, I don't care," Mo Jing'er shrugged. 

　　"But I think there's one thing you must care about." He stopped her. "As I said, once I prove that Mo Jie is my son, I'll take him." 

"Impossible!" 

"Impossible?" Leng Yan laughed arrogantly. "We'll see about that."