Chapter 1140: Smokescreen

Chapter 1140: Smokescreen

The young officers nearly stumbled backward in horror. The moment they had lifted the lid of the so-called “pickle jar”, all hell broke loose.

Hidden beneath a thin layer of pickled vegetables was not some forgotten preserve, but a barely-breathing human being.

Gasps rippled through the crowd as the police hauled the frail figure out of the jar.

Gu Zi, standing at the very front, had the misfortune of seeing it all too clearly—the man’s scalp was split open, and writhing maggots were crawling out of the gaping wound. Overwhelmed, Gu Zi turned pale and retched violently on the spot.

And then it hit them—this so-called piece of “evidence” Lin Miao had been shouting about wasn’t some inanimate object; it was a person. A person so brutally tortured he was clinging to the last threads of life.

If their guesses were correct, this must have been the madman Jiang Yao once discovered in the infamous haunted house. And going a step further—it seemed likely that this unfortunate soul was none other than Jiang Nan’s long-missing husband.

Their suspicions were confirmed just moments later when someone cried out in shock, “Isn’t that Jiang Yi—Jiang Nan’s husband? Oh my God, look at that head wound—it’s like someone hacked at him with an axe! This is monstrous! What the hell happened here?”

The revelation shattered any last semblance of order. Jiang Nan crumpled to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut, but instead of despair, a look of blissful relief unfurled across her face.

She threw her head back and laughed—a wild, chilling laugh that echoed off the courtyard walls.

“It’s not my fault!” she shrieked, her voice sharp as broken glass. “It was you—you betrayed me first! You and your whole filthy family—bullying me, beating me, hurling insults, forcing me to raise a bastard that wasn’t even mine! I wanted you all dead! Dead, dead, dead! Hahahaha!”

There was no need for further explanation—the grisly truth hung in the air, undeniable and suffocating.

Meanwhile, at the Su family residence, Su Shen had just returned home when he heard the commotion from the neighboring household. The minute he learned that Gu Zi was involved, unease gripped him, and he rushed over without a second thought.

When he arrived, he found Jiang Nan’s courtyard jammed with villagers, a chaotic, stinking mass. And there, near the center of it all, was Gu Zi—ashen-faced and trembling on the verge of collapse.

Su Shen didn’t hesitate. He barreled through the crowd, scooped Gu Zi into his arms, and immediately caught a glimpse of the nauseating scene near the jar. It didn’t take long to figure out why Gu Zi was in such a state.

Without wasting another second, he carried her away, running all the way back to their home.

Cradled against the strong, familiar chest she knew so well, Gu Zi finally allowed herself to surrender to unconsciousness, her body going limp with relief.

Their loyal dog Big Yellow, sensing that its work was done and its humans had departed, quickly turned tail and trotted back to the Su residence as well.

Inside, Su Shen laid Gu Zi carefully onto the bed, fetched clean water, and tenderly washed her face and hands.

The children gathered anxiously around her, their little faces creased with worry.

It was a long, agonizing while before Gu Zi finally stirred awake. The first thing she tried to do was scramble up to wash her face again, but Su Shen caught her gently, his voice soft and reassuring, “Don’t worry, I’ve already cleaned you up.”

Gu Zi nodded weakly in his arms. Slowly, color returned to her cheeks. She forced herself to push the horrific images from her mind, though every time she slipped, a wave of nausea threatened to overtake her.

Seeing her struggle, Su Bing rushed over with a bowl of vibrant green sugar water, carefully crafted from fresh beetroot. “Mommy,” she said earnestly, “I made this sweet juice—it’s very refreshing. Have some. It’ll make you feel better.”

Su Shen took the bowl and carefully fed her a few sips. Sure enough, Gu Zi’s stomach began to settle. She wasn’t sure if it was the juice itself or the overwhelming love and concern radiating from her family, but the strength inside her, momentarily lost, began to rekindle.

She knew then: as long as her family stood by her, no horror could ever truly break her.

Jiang Nan’s residence was cordoned off by the police. No one was allowed near. Jiang Nan was swiftly handcuffed and loaded into a squad car. An ambulance had arrived too—but it was too late. Jiang Yi succumbed to his injuries before they could save him.

His aged parents were permitted a final, heart-wrenching glance at their son’s body. And with that last look, as if their souls had been tied to his, they each exhaled their final breath, collapsing side by side like a pair of fallen trees.

The arrangements for the three funerals were entrusted to the village chief of Jiangjia Village.

Days later, the forensic reports came back. Jiang Yi’s injuries were extensive—multiple unrecoverable wounds, a fractured right leg, and the fatal axe wound to the head—all inflicted by Jiang Nan. In custody, Jiang Nan confessed without a trace of remorse. She had imprisoned Jiang Yi, tortured him, and ultimately taken his life.

There had never been a haunted house, nor any supernatural forces at work. The so-called “haunting” had been a smokescreen for her own monstrous crimes. Jiang Nan had orchestrated everything from beginning to end.

As for the mysterious death of Li Mei? That, too, was finally laid bare. Just as Lin Miao had insisted, Li Mei had been murdered by Jiang Nan.

As for the illegitimate child Jiang Yi fathered with another woman—and the string of missing children in the village—Jiang Nan had collaborated with a ruthless ring of human traffickers, selling the children to faraway places.

When she recounted her deeds to the police, Jiang Nan’s face twisted into a grotesque smile—a horrifying expression of satisfaction.

She confessed her deep hatred: hatred for men, hatred for boys, hatred for families who flaunted the birth of sons as if it were a prize. She had targeted these families specifically, stealing away their children to be trafficked elsewhere.

In her twisted mind, she wasn’t the one who was wrong—it was the world itself. A world that had always treated women unfairly.

The officers conducting her interrogation couldn’t suppress the shivers running down their spines. Who could have imagined? A woman like Jiang Nan—seemingly honest, modest, and entirely unremarkable—had hidden such darkness within. She had blood on her hands, was an accomplice to human trafficking, and had masterminded a chilling mystery that spanned over a decade before finally unraveling.

It was too horrifying for words.

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