Richest man’s

Chapter 10

The final investigative result was that my brother didn’t provoke Lucy at all, let alone bully her.

On the contrary, Lucy was provoking and insulting my brother when I wasn’t aware.

But my brother has never told me about it.

My brother’s injury was classified as minor.

It was ridiculous, wasn’t it He had been so severely injured, but as long as there were no broken arms and legs, no disability, it could only have been minor.

My parents consulted a lawyer specifically, Lucy intentionally injured others and caused minor injuries, punishable by up to three years in prison.

Of course, three years was the maximum, if the victims issued a letter of forgiveness and apologized actively, it could have been a few months of probation, detention, control, and even

non–prosecution treatment.

That was to say, even if the evidence was concrete, Lucy could still escape punishment.

My parents‘ favoritism and wealth served as her safety net.

My brother had been discharged from the hospital and returned to their old rented house.

To get an apology letter, my father asked me to talk to my foster parents. I refused.

They, instead, bought fruits and nutrition supplements, brought Lucy, and deigned to visit my foster parents.

Lucy reluctantly apologized. Then, my father set a stack of money and an apology letter on the table.

1/2

Here is 100 thousand dollars, enough for you to work for a year. I have apologized, paid the money, you should sign this apology letter now. Do not try to exploit us anymore.

His haughty attitude was so irritating that I wanted to smack him.

My foster mother choked, We have never thought a out exploiting your money. If it wasn’t for…

Mom!

I was in the room tutoring my brother about the lessons he missed these days. I dashed out ignoring his attempts to stop

1. me.

I tore the apology letter on the table into pieces.

Mom, didn’t I tell you Don’t sign it! Lucy committed the crime of intentional injury. She should be punished by the law!

My foster mother’s eyes t turned red. My foster father clenched his fists, biting his cheek, but saying nothing.

As a child, when the children in the village called me a wild breed, my foster father would directly grab a club and rush to their homes to make them apologize to me, or else he’d beat

them up.

But now, his son was seriously injured and humiliated, yet he still bore it and said nothing.

I knew, they were restraining themselves for my sake.

They didn’t want to make my life difficult in my parents‘ house because of them.