Act Three: Half a Century of Evidence — Nuclear Blast
9:00 AM, Supreme People’s Court, Third Trial Chamber.
Sunlight poured through the high windows, spreading a solemn golden hue across the dark wooden floor. The gallery was packed, yet unusually silent, broken only by the occasional shutter click of a camera.
When Shen Huaishan was escorted in by court officers, a suppressed sigh rippled through the courtroom.
The man had become skeletal, almost unrecognizable. His orange prison uniform hung loosely over his stooped shoulders, his hair gray and thinning. Most striking was the thick gauze over his left eye, edges stained dark yellow—three days ago, in the deep-sea prison, he had exchanged that eye for his daughter’s chance at a reduced sentence.
He didn’t look at Jiang Mian.
Head bowed, the remaining right eye fixed on the floor, he resembled a statue resigned to fate.
Jiang Mian sat in the plaintiff’s seat, dressed in a simple black suit. Her gaze rested on Shen Huaishan with complex emotion—not hatred, not satisfaction, but a heavy, dust-settled calm.
“Court is now in session.”
The gavel struck crisply.
“The defendant, Shen Huaishan, is charged with harboring serious criminals, illegal destruction of evidence, economic crimes, money laundering, and a total of twenty-nine offenses,” the presiding judge’s voice echoed in the silence. “Prosecutor, please present your statement.”
The prosecutor rose and opened the case files.
But Jiang Mian stood first.
“Your Honor,” her voice clear and steady, “before the prosecutor begins, I request to present the first piece of evidence—it pertains to Mr. Shen Huaishan’s attitude and remorse before the trial.”
The judge raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Granted.”
Jiang Mian produced a black USB drive. A court officer inserted it into the playback device.
The large screen lit up.
The footage showed the visitation room of the deep-sea prison, timestamped clearly: three days ago, 10:07 AM.
Shen Huaishan, wearing the same orange uniform, left eye intact but face drawn and weary, looked across at Jiang Mian. In his single eye, there was no hatred—only exhaustion and… resignation.
Shen Huaishan said, “The key is in… unlocking requires my iris.”
“Detached eyes can’t pass the liveness test,” Jiang Mian replied.
“The lock… doesn’t require a liveness test,” Shen Huaishan said bitterly. “My father deliberately leaked that pupil reaction was needed. In reality… it’s just static pattern comparison.”
He paused, voice growing softer:
“After you get the records… go to the Third Psychiatric Hospital. The earliest three survivors of the Eye-Opening Project still live there. Give them the money… tell them the person who harmed them has been punished.”
Jiang Mian asked off-screen: “Why do this?”
Shen Huaishan lifted his head, and his remaining eye filled with murky tears:
“For my daughter… to reduce her sentence by ten years.”
“And… for the lives my father destroyed.”
The footage continued.
What followed plunged the courtroom into stunned silence—
Shen Huaishan suddenly raised his hand, joined the middle and index fingers, and drove them forcefully into his left eye!
“SPLURT!”
A dull, horrifying sound.
Blood spurted from the socket, his body trembled violently, yet he summoned all his strength to remove the eyeball intact.
It landed in his palm, nerves and vessels twitching in midair.
“Take… it…” his voice shattered, “Use this… to open the box…”
“To save Yanxin… alive…”
The recording ended there.
The screen went dark, but the image had already seared itself into everyone’s retinas.
The courtroom was deathly silent.
In the gallery, some covered their mouths, others turned away. Reporters forgot to click their shutters. Jury members turned pale. The judge gripped the gavel tightly.
Shen Huaishan sat at the defendant’s seat, head bowed, shoulders trembling. Beneath the gauze on his left eye, the wound seemed to bleed again.
Jiang Mian took a deep breath and turned to the judge:
“Your Honor, this video proves two things: first, Mr. Shen Huaishan voluntarily provided critical evidence before the trial, assisting the judicial system in obtaining the proof; second, he paid… a terrible price for it.”
She paused, her voice laced with complex emotion:
“I request the court take this into account during sentencing.”
The judge was silent for a moment, then nodded and recorded it.
Low murmurs spread through the gallery. This was not the opening the public expected—no fierce confrontation, no angry accusations, only a heavy, almost tragic confession.
[Golden commentary floats at the edge of Jiang Mian’s consciousness]
[Sunny Day]: “Is this… atonement?”
[Late Night Champ]: “Trading one eye for his daughter’s reduced sentence… the cost…”
[Milk Tea Lover Today]: “The plaintiff isn’t gloating, actually speaking for him…”
[Jerk, Move]: “Still, his crimes are too severe. One eye can’t make up for it.”
The prosecutor rose again, flipping through the files:
“Your Honor, we now begin formal evidence presentation.”
The large screen lit up again.
This time, a yellowed scanned meeting memo. The edges singed, the handwriting neat and cold.
“March 15, 1988, Internal Meeting Minutes.”
“Attendees: Shen Xinzong (Chairman), Director Li, Deputy Director Wang, Shen Huaishan (Intern Recorder).”
“Agenda: Progress of destruction of ‘Eye-Opening Project’ records.”
“Shen Xinzong: All original records must be destroyed completely. Huaishan, you supervise.”
“Shen Huaishan: Father, medical files have been processed, but the volunteers’ families…”
“Shen Xinzong (interrupting): Families get paid to keep silent. Standard medical compensation—no more than 5,000 each.”
“Director Li: Chairman, three of these children just started college; 5,000—is that…”
“Shen Xinzong: Then even less should be given. Students are easy to pacify, just sign a confidentiality agreement.”
Resolution: Executed by Shen Huaishan. Complete all evidence destruction and family appeasement within three months.
The courtroom was silent.
Shen Huaishan did not orchestrate these crimes—he was only eighteen, a meeting recorder at the time. But he was the executor, the knife in the shadows.
Jiang Mian stood: “Your Honor, I request to summon witness Ms. Zhang Xiulan.”
A side door opened. A woman in her seventies was supported inside. Hair white, back hunched, walking unsteadily—but her eyes were bright, piercing.
She sat at the witness stand, hands trembling as she gripped the microphone.
“Ms. Zhang Xiulan,” Jiang Mian approached gently, “what was Zhang Jianjun to you?”
“My brother,” the old woman’s voice hoarse, thick with dialect, “my own brother.”
“In 1988, your brother…”
“He was long dead,” the woman interrupted, tears falling. “Died in 1972. In your Shen family hospital.”
She looked at Shen Huaishan, eyes bloodshot—not with hatred, but with deep sorrow accumulated over half a century:
“In spring 1988, you came to me. Dressed neatly, holding an envelope.”
Her voice trembled:
“You said it was humanitarian compensation from the hospital—5,000 yuan. Sign an agreement saying I couldn’t pursue the matter or tell anyone… I signed. I needed that money, my mother was sick, I had to buy medicine.”
Her voice choked:
“But every night I couldn’t sleep. I always felt… I had sold my brother. 5,000 yuan bought his life, bought him a chance at college, bought his whole future…”
Silence engulfed the courtroom.
Only the old woman’s restrained sobs echoed.
Shen Huaishan kept his head down, shoulders trembling even more. No defense, no rebuttal—just sitting there, like a weathered statue.
Jiang Mian returned to the plaintiff’s seat, opening a second folder.
9:47 AM, second round of evidence.
This time, audio recordings.
A young man’s voice first—processed, but recognizable as Shen Huaishan’s subordinate:
“Mr. Shen, Jiang Mian is investigating closely. Bank surveillance…”
Shen Huaishan’s voice cut in, terrifyingly calm:
“Handle it cleanly. Erase all traces. Whatever money is needed, go through overseas accounts.”
“But Mr. Shen, this time it’s too conspicuous, I’m afraid—”
“Afraid of what?” Shen Huaishan’s voice carried a trace of impatience. “The previous accident and fire—weren’t they handled thoroughly? Jiang Mingyuan and Song Yun are dead, the data burned, everyone thinks it was an accident.”
A few seconds of silence followed in the recording.
Then the subordinate said, “Mr. Shen, this time it’s different. That girl, Jiang Mian… she’s harder to handle than her parents.”
Shen Huaishan sneered coldly: “No matter how stubborn, she’s just a kid. Arrange a few people, stage some ‘accidents.’ Make her disappear naturally.”
The recording ended.
The courtroom collectively drew in a sharp breath.
This was direct evidence of attempted murder—Shen Huaishan had ordered his subordinates to go after Jiang Mian.
Jiang Mian stood and walked to the defendant’s seat.
She looked at Shen Huaishan, head bowed, her voice soft:
“Mr. Shen, was the person speaking in this recording… you?”
Shen Huaishan slowly lifted his head.
In his remaining right eye, there was no defense, no denial—only a profound, weary confession:
“…Yes. That was me.”
Two words, barely audible, yet like a hammer striking the courtroom floor.
“Why?” Jiang Mian asked. “My parents were already dead. The evidence destroyed. Why, after all these years, did you still try to harm me?”
Shen Huaishan was silent for a long moment.
Then he said:
“Because I was afraid.”
“Afraid you would uncover the truth about your parents’ deaths.”
“Afraid you would find the evidence… I thought I had destroyed.”
“Afraid the Shen family’s legacy—three generations’ work—would be ruined by my hands.”
He paused.
“But I was wrong.”
“Some sins… cannot be hidden.”
“Some debts… must be paid, sooner or later.”
Silence fell again in the courtroom.
This time, it was a different kind of silence—not the solemnity of the trial, but a heavy, almost compassionate weight. Some in the gallery began wiping their eyes.
Jiang Mian returned to the plaintiff’s seat and opened the last folder.
This was the heaviest piece of evidence.
10:15 AM, third round of evidence.
The large screen lit up with a complex flowchart of financial transfers.
Thirty-seven overseas accounts, $870 million, woven into a precise web—from the Shen family-controlled medical foundation, through the Cayman Islands, Switzerland, Singapore, eventually into European art auction houses, African mining companies, even… some politically sensitive accounts.
The prosecutor pointed to one node:
“This $42 million appeared in May 2018 at a Sotheby’s auction, used to buy a Monet Water Lilies painting. The payment came from a shell company registered in the Cayman Islands.”
He paused.
“Investigation shows the actual controller of that company is Shen Huaishan.”
Jiang Mian added:
“That $42 million was originally special research funding from the Binhai Medical Foundation—intended for neuroscience research.”
Murmurs erupted in the gallery.
Shen Huaishan still kept his head down, hands trembling.
“This is just the tip of the iceberg,” the prosecutor continued. “Over the past twenty years, the Shen family used similar methods to siphon over $870 million of state assets. Money that should have gone to healthcare, education, and poverty relief…”
He trailed off.
Shen Huaishan suddenly lifted his head, tears welling in his right eye.
“I plead guilty.”
Three words, clear and weighty.
The courtroom fell completely silent.
His voice trembled, yet carried resolve:
“All the charges… I accept.”
“I destroyed the evidence my father left behind.”
“I covered up the truth of the ‘Eye-Opening Project.’”
“I diverted those funds… for the Shen family, for Yanxin, and… for myself.”
He took a deep breath:
“I am willing to accept all punishment.”
“Just… give my daughter a chance to rebuild her life.”
He looked at Jiang Mian, eyes complex—guilt, plea, resignation:
“Jiang Mian, I’m sorry.”
“For your parents… I’m sorry.”
“For you… I’m sorry.”
Jiang Mian stood there, watching him.
The man who had destroyed her family and nearly killed her now seemed like a collapsing statue. His apologies came too late, his remorse too costly—an eye, half a lifetime of wealth, and impending imprisonment.
Yet she nodded slightly.
A small, almost imperceptible gesture.
Shen Huaishan saw it. He closed his eyes, and tears rolled from his remaining right eye, staining the orange prison uniform with dark splotches.
The judge struck the gavel:
“Court is now adjourned. The collegial panel will deliberate. Verdict to be announced at 2:00 PM.”
The gavel fell.
The trial that had spanned half a century was finally approaching its conclusion.
12:30 PM, courtroom lounge.
Jiang Mian stood by the window, watching the crowd gathered in the square outside. The media had spread news of Shen Huaishan’s confession across the internet, public opinion rapidly fermenting.
[Score Update: Shen Huaishan confessed in court, Revenge Progress 85%! +15,000 points!]
[Current Points: 170,800!]
[Golden commentary buzzing]
[Milk Tea Lover Today]: “Shen Huaishan confessed… but why do I feel even more uneasy?”
[Late Night Champ]: “The way he looked at Jiang Mian at the end… too complicated.”
[Jerk, Move]: “Verdict this afternoon—probably life imprisonment or death.”
[System Maintenance]: “Streamer’s emotions are fluctuating. Even with a win, she isn’t happy.”
Pei Yuyan pushed open the door, carrying two boxed meals.
“Eat something,” he said, handing one to Jiang Mian. “Afternoon’s still going to be tough.”
She took it but didn’t touch it.
“What are you thinking?” Pei Yuyan asked.
Jiang Mian paused:
“I’m thinking… if back in 1988, Shen Huaishan had refused to execute his father’s orders, what would have happened?”
Pei Yuyan was silent.
History has no “what if.”
But some questions must be asked.
“He would have lost everything,” Pei Yuyan finally said. “Shen family inheritance, his father’s support, perhaps… even his freedom.”
“So he chose compromise,” Jiang Mian whispered. “Once, twice, three times… until his hands were stained with blood, beyond washing.”
She turned to Pei Yuyan:
“When do you think a person crosses the line from ‘forced to do evil’ to ‘choosing to do evil’?”
Pei Yuyan had no answer.
Some questions, there simply aren’t answers.
1:50 PM, the courtroom reconvened.
Shen Huaishan was escorted back to the defendant’s seat. His complexion worse, lips purple, breathing somewhat rapid. Medical personnel positioned behind the gallery, ready for emergencies.
The judge struck the gavel:
“Court resumes.”
“Before the verdict, does the defendant Shen Huaishan have anything to state?”
Shen Huaishan slowly stood.
He gripped the railing of the defendant’s seat, body swaying slightly. His remaining right eye swept across the courtroom—scanning the jury, the gallery, and finally resting on Jiang Mian.
“Your Honor,” his voice hoarse, “I want… to tell a story.”
“Please proceed.”
Shen Huaishan took a deep breath:
“I was born in 1970, in Binhai City. By then, the Shen family was already wealthy, but my father, Shen Xinzhi, was never satisfied. He said the Shen family must become a true ‘aristocratic house’—not just rich, but powerful, possessing… things others do not.”
His voice began to tremble:
“In 1987, I was seventeen. My father took me to the ‘Eye-Opening Project’ experimental base for the first time. It was an underground shelter converted into a laboratory, where twelve people were confined.”
“My father pointed at them and said, ‘These are volunteers. They dedicate themselves to science. It is honorable.’”
Shen Huaishan closed his eyes:
“At the time, I believed him. I truly believed him.”
“Until… March 1988, the first volunteer died before my eyes.”
The courtroom was silent enough to hear a pin drop.
“His name was Li Weiguo, twenty-three, a farmer. After the injection, his whole body convulsed, bleeding from every orifice.” Shen Huaishan’s voice grew weaker. “I was terrified and wanted to call a doctor. But my father pressed on my shoulder and said, ‘Huaishan, remember—before science, individual life can be sacrificed.’”
He opened his eyes, bloodshot in the right eye:
“That night, I had a nightmare. Li Weiguo stood at my bedside, covered in blood, asking why I was just watching him die.”
“The next day, I went to my father and said I couldn’t do it.”
“My father slapped me. He said, ‘A man of the Shen family does not have the words ‘cannot do.’ Either you take over my work, or… never set foot in this house again.’”
Shen Huaishan smiled bitterly:
“I chose the former.”
“Because I was afraid. Afraid of losing my privileged life, afraid of disappointing my father, afraid… of becoming ordinary.”
“From that day, I began helping my father destroy evidence, appease families, and cover up the truth.”
He looked at Jiang Mian:
“Jiang Mian, you asked me when a person crosses from being ‘forced to do evil’ to ‘choosing to do evil’…”
“I will tell you now—”
“It was 1992, the day the ‘Eye-Opening Project’ was officially halted.”
Shen Huaishan’s breathing quickened:
“My father was furious, saying the bureaucrats didn’t understand science. I was relieved—I thought it would finally end.”
“But my father said, ‘No, it cannot end. We already hold the key technology. As long as experiments continue, we can achieve groundbreaking results.’”
“I said, ‘Father, twelve people have already died.’”
“He said, ‘All the more reason not to stop. Otherwise, their deaths were in vain.’”
Tears ran down his face:
“At that moment, I realized—I could never turn back.”
“If the ‘Eye-Opening Project’ was proven wrong, everything I had done would be wrong. The twelve lives I helped cover up—all became my guilt.”
“So… I chose to continue.”
“I volunteered to take over the ‘data cleaning’ work, to coordinate overseas fund transfers, to actively… become the kind of man my father was.”
The courtroom was dead silent.
His voice nearly broken:
“Jiang Mian, I know it’s too late to say this now.”
“But I truly… truly once wanted to be a good person.”
“Only by the time I realized it, it was already too late.”
He collapsed into the chair, hands covering his face, shoulders trembling violently.
In the gallery, some began to sob.
Jiang Mian stood, watching this man break down, her heart clutched by some invisible force.
The cruelest truth is not pure evil.
But that… there was once a possibility of goodness, and he extinguished it with his own hands.
[Golden commentary silent for a long time]
[Sunny Day]: “…I don’t know what to say.”
[I’m the Handsome Guy]: “If he had chosen another path in 1988…”
[Keep Going Today]: “But in this world, there is no ‘what if.’”
[System Maintenance]: “Streamer is shaking. This truth is more painful than pure hatred.”
The judge was silent for a long while, then spoke:
“Defendant Shen Huaishan, your statement has been recorded.”
He looked at Jiang Mian:
“Plaintiff Jiang Mian, do you have anything to add?”
Jiang Mian slowly stood.
She walked to the center of the courtroom, facing the judge and the entire court:
“Your Honor, members of the jury.”
“Mr. Shen just asked me a question—when does a person cross from being ‘forced to do evil’ to ‘choosing to do evil’?”
She paused.
“I can answer him now.”
“It was not in 1992, nor 1988.”
“It is every time one chooses to compromise.”
Jiang Mian turned to Shen Huaishan:
“Mr. Shen, you said you once wanted to be a good person.”
“Then tell me—”
“When the first volunteer, Li Weiguo, died in 1972, you chose silence. That was the first compromise.”
“In 1988, when you handed five thousand yuan to Ms. Zhang Xiulan, you chose deceit. That was the second compromise.”
“In 1992, when the ‘Eye-Opening Project’ was halted, you chose to continue covering it up. That was the third compromise.”
Her voice was calm, yet each word cut like a knife:
“For thirty years, you had countless chances to stand up.”
“To expose your father’s crimes, to save future volunteers, to… spare your conscience a little.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Time and again, you chose ‘the Shen family’s interests,’ chose ‘your own future,’ chose ‘it’s already this way, so just continue.’”
Jiang Mian walked to the defendant’s seat, looking down at Shen Huaishan:
“So don’t say ‘it’s too late.’”
“You weren’t too late—”
“You were unwilling.”
“Unwilling to give up the Shen family’s wealth and prestige, unwilling to endure the social pressure of exposing your father, unwilling… to let the first half of your life’s choices mean nothing.”
Shen Huaishan raised his head, right eye bloodshot, lips trembling, yet no words came.
Jiang Mian concluded:
“Your Honor, I have finished.”
“I only wish to emphasize—”
“Shen Huaishan’s remorse and confession are acknowledged. But the crimes he committed must be severely punished by law.”
“Because the dead have no second chance.”
“And the lives ruined cannot be lived again.”
She returned to the plaintiff’s seat and sat.
The courtroom remained silent for a long time.
Shen Huaishan slumped in the chair, like a shell emptied of soul.
The judge struck the gavel:
“Court is now adjourned for fifteen minutes. The collegial panel will make final deliberations.”
2:30 PM, final verdict.
Bailiffs helped Shen Huaishan to stand. He could no longer support himself, needing two people to steady him.
The judge rose; the entire courtroom stood in solemnity.
“Now, the verdict.”
“The defendant Shen Huaishan is convicted of intentional homicide, illegal human experimentation, money laundering, and economic crimes, totaling 29 counts. Facts are clear, and evidence is conclusive.”
“In consideration of the defendant’s voluntary surrender of key evidence before trial and his confession and remorse in court, the law allows for leniency in sentencing.”
“However, the crimes committed are extremely severe, with highly negative social impact and catastrophic consequences…”
The judge’s voice echoed through the courtroom.
Shen Huaishan kept his head down, body trembling slightly.
“The court hereby rules as follows:”
“1. The defendant Shen Huaishan is sentenced to life imprisonment for intentional homicide and deprived of political rights for life.”
“2. Fifteen years’ imprisonment for illegal human experimentation.”
“3. Ten years’ imprisonment for money laundering.”
“4. Eight years’ imprisonment for economic crimes.”
“Sentences for multiple crimes are to be served concurrently, resulting in life imprisonment and permanent deprivation of political rights.”
The verdict was read.
Low murmurs filled the courtroom.
Life imprisonment—for someone of Shen Huaishan’s age, it was effectively a sentence to die behind bars.
The judge continued:
“Furthermore, all illegal gains of the Shen family, totaling 870 million USD, shall be confiscated by the state treasury.”
“Families of the victims of the ‘Eye-Opening Project’ will receive compensation from the state and civil restitution from Shen family assets.”
“Cases involving Shen Yanxin will be handled separately.”
The gavel fell.
Shen Huaishan closed his eyes.
He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, yet at the same time utterly hopeless.
Bailiffs were ready to escort him out.
But then—
Shen Huaishan suddenly grabbed the railing of the defendant’s seat and looked at Jiang Mian:
“Jiang Mian!”
His voice was hoarse, like a broken bellows.
Jiang Mian lifted her head.
Shen Huaishan used the last of his strength to speak:
“Tell Yanxin…”
“…to reform properly…”
“…in her next life… be an ordinary person…”
Before he could finish, his complexion suddenly turned bluish-purple. His right hand clutched his chest, and he collapsed backward!
“The prisoner is having a medical emergency!” shouted the bailiff.
Medical personnel rushed forward.
The heart monitor emitted a piercing alarm—
Heart rate: 40… 30… 20…
Flatline.
Myocardial infarction.
Death on the spot.
The courtroom erupted into chaos again.
Jiang Mian stood still, watching the medical team attempt resuscitation, watching the monitor remain unresponsive, watching the man who had destroyed her family—and nearly ruined her life—finally fall at the trial bench.
She suddenly recalled a line from her father’s diary:
“Some sins can be judged by the law.”
“But debts of the conscience must be paid by oneself.”
Shen Huaishan paid his father’s debt with one eye.
He repaid his own debt with his life.
[Points Settled: Final courtroom victory, the Shen family completely destroyed! +30,000 points!]
[Current Points: 200,800!]
[Achievement Unlocked: Blood-Drenched Dawn · The Final Chapter of Crime and Punishment]
[Golden Comments Silent as One]
[Sunny Day]: “He just… died like that?”
[Late-Night Champion Here]: “That last line, ‘be an ordinary person in the next life’… sigh.”
[Move Away, Scumbag]: “Though he got what he deserved, this ending… is so heavy.”
[System Maintenance]: “Streamer needs rest. Emotional level is approaching critical.”
The judge struck the gavel again:
“In view of the defendant’s death in court, this case is terminated.”
“However, the verdict remains effective.”
“All illegal assets of the Shen family shall be executed in accordance with the judgment.”
“Court adjourned.”
People slowly began to leave.
Media photographers went wild, but were blocked by bailiffs.
Jiang Mian stood in place, motionless for a long time.
Fu Chenyu came over and gently touched her shoulder:
“Let’s go.”
“It’s all over.”
Jiang Mian nodded and turned to leave.
But before exiting the courtroom, she glanced back one last time.
Shen Huaishan’s body was covered with a white cloth, being prepared to be carried away.
The covered left eye slightly bulged beneath the fabric.
Like an eye that could never fully close.
Watching something.
Or perhaps… waiting for something.
Jiang Mian closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, all that remained in her gaze was a calm wasteland.
“Let’s go,” she said.
The two walked out of the courtroom.
Sunlight blinded them outside.
In the distance, the city roared with life—traffic, voices.
As if nothing had happened.
Yet everything had happened.
Jiang Mian took out her phone and sent a message to Pei Yuyan:
“Court finished this afternoon.”
“I won.”
“But I’m so tired.”
Seconds later, a reply came:
“Go home.”
“I’m waiting for you.”
Jiang Mian looked at the words, eyes moist.
Not sadness.
But finally… release.