Chapter 7 Severing Ties
I got home before them and installed a hidden camera in an inconspicuous corner on the second floor.
It wasn’t for evidence or lawsuits.
In this lawless novel world, police and courts barely existed.
Evidence was useless.
But the system could use the camera for Screen Recording and Save Slot, ready for Load Slot whenever I needed.
After setting it up, I waited quietly.
Mom and Dad returned one after another. The nanny, Zhang Ma, stayed at the hospital to look after Lin Weiwei and Lin Kai.
I had always suspected something off between Zhang Ma, Dad, and Lin Weiwei, but I never found proof…
As soon as Dad walked in, he called me over and slid a document across the table—an inheritance and parent-child severance agreement.
He spoke slowly: "I don’t care if today’s mess had anything to do with you. I’m not interested."
"But don’t think that just because your brother and Lin Weiwei are sick, you’ll inherit anything. Sign this. Renounce all claims. I’ll give you fifty million upfront. I’ll even let you move your household registration back and change your surname to Lin."
As if I wanted that.
In the three years since the Lin family took me in, they never bothered moving my registration from the orphanage. They never changed my surname. I kept the dean’s surname—Chen Wan.
Every time the topic came up, Lin Weiwei threw tantrums. To keep her happy, it was dropped. An unloved daughter didn’t matter.
Everyone in our circles knew about the real-vs-fake heiress drama, yet I remained Chen Wan.
Not being registered with them actually gave me freedom. They had no idea what I scored on the college entrance exam or which university I applied to.
My plan had been simple: the moment I turned eighteen, grab my household registration booklet and disappear forever. Leave these lunatics behind.
But after what Lin Weiwei did to me in my last life—poisoning me—this grudge had to be settled first. Only then could I move on.
Escape came after revenge.
I smiled. "Dad, the Lin Group is worth tens of billions. You’re offering fifty million? Lin Weiwei has five percent shares. I’m not greedy. Convert five percent to cash, and I’ll sign right now."
Dad slammed the table. "Dream on! Five percent is five hundred million. You’ve got nerve."
I stared him down. "It’s mine by right. Why should a fake heiress enjoy my life and steal my money? Don’t pretend I don’t know what really happened back then."
"Sixty million, tops."
Once he started compromising, he wouldn’t stop. I eased back. "Two hundred million. I sign and vanish today."
"Seventy million."
"One hundred million!"
"Eighty million." Dad gritted his teeth. That seemed his limit.
"Ninety million. Lin Weiwei loses it the moment she sees me now. Lin Kai probably will too. Ninety million final offer. After this, I disappear from your lives forever."
"Eighty-five million. And we sever all ties." Dad spat the words.
"Deal."
I read the agreement carefully, then signed boldly—Chen Wan.
The lawyers notarized it on the spot.
The money hit my account immediately.
I picked up my copy and said politely: "Mr. Lin, Mrs. Lin—from now on, we’re strangers."
Mom finally spoke: "Chen Wan, Mom never thought it would end like this."
I kept my face serious. "Mrs. Lin, please. Your daughter’s still in the hospital, future bride of the Gu family. Not like a poor nobody like me."
Mom tried to keep up her gentle act: "No, Mommy loves you."
I laughed coldly. Love?
In my last life, when Lin Weiwei killed me, you helped cover it up. And what did you say?
"This is her fate."
That’s a mother’s love?
This life, maybe they hadn’t planned to kill me—yet. Just pay me to leave.
Or perhaps, with two heirs possibly insane, they couldn’t risk a murdered real heiress scandal.
But the money was mine by right.
And the revenge would still come.
I said icily: "Mrs. Lin, drop the act. Focus on marrying off your mentally ill daughter to the Gu family."
Dad couldn’t stand my mockery. "Get out. Now. Or I’ll have security throw you out."
"Calm down, Mr. Lin. I’m leaving."
I went upstairs.
My "room" was a storage closet at the end of the second-floor hallway. My belongings: a few old clothes, some certificates, and—most important—my university acceptance letter.
I left the Lin house cheerfully, took a taxi to the hotel I’d booked, showered luxuriously, and stared at my bank account.
One zero, two zeros, three zeros… I counted again and again.
Who would’ve thought?
The real Lin heiress got five hundred yuan pocket money a month—to "break bad habits."
The fake one got three hundred thousand.
They say poverty breeds evil, wealth breeds kindness.
In this circle, how many kind people were there really?