The Recurring Nightmare

At the same time, a netizen with the username "Love Eating Snails Rice Noodles" also swiped to this short video. She was first frightened by the photo, and then couldn't help but watch it a few more times.

Finally, she opened the comment section and saw Key's comment. She replied: "Is it possible that the Judge only judges the murderer and does not need to consider anything else?"

Although Su Mo had gained some fame on the internet last time, with such a short time interval, as soon as this short video came out, it really blew up.

Countless netizens left comments, with all kinds of remarks, but in short, this time, the reputation of the Midnight Judge was completely established.

At midnight, the special team sealed off the scene. Forensic doctor Qin had finished the investigation. He stood up and shook his head at Wei Dongqing.

The meaning was obvious. There were no gains, the scene was still very clean, and there were no clues.

Soon, Li Yang ran over and said, "Team Wei, the surveillance didn't catch anything. The surveillance downstairs was tampered with by the murderer, and the other surveillance didn't capture the murderer either."

A few minutes later, Zhao Xiaobao said, "Team Wei, Qian Shang's wife and children's performance is a bit strange. It doesn't seem like they are very sad, just a bit surprised. This is very abnormal."

Wei Dongqing was expressionless, but thought to himself: "Can't remain passive anymore, have to change the strategy, otherwise, following the conventional procedures, I'm afraid I'll never be able to catch this Judge."

"My name is Qian Shang. Since I was little, I have been the envy of others.

Everyone said my dad was a great person, and everyone respected my dad.

But only my mom and I knew that my dad was not good, he was a demon who made life very painful for me and my mom.

From when I started having memories, my dad demanded that I dress properly and speak and act slickly.

But I was only 6 years old, forced to wear very uncomfortable gentleman's clothing, with my hair combed like an adult's, and even my walking and talking could not be unruly.

I remember very clearly that every time I disobeyed, that impeccably dressed father would string me up. He didn't beat me, just strung me up. I felt very uncomfortable, very uncomfortable.

My mom felt sorry for me and wanted my dad to spare me, but it was useless. My mom didn't have a say in our family.

I was very scared, because being strung up felt too painful. I didn't know what death felt like, but I was certain that being strung up was more painful than death.

I did everything carefully, for fear that I would displease my dad. In fact, he had never been satisfied. No matter how well I did, he could always find a reason to string me up.

I didn't even dare cry, because whenever my mom wanted to wail loudly, my dad would look at her with an extremely terrifying expression.

I didn't know what my dad did to my mom, but every time, my mom would cower in the corner, shivering, with tears streaming down uncontrollably, but didn't dare make a sound.

My mom's eyes were bloodshot every day, or at least that's how I remember it, and I don't know why, but I felt like my mom had become somewhat abnormal. She would often talk to herself, which was creepy.

When I was 8 years old, my mom asked me if I was willing to die with her. I thought about it and nodded. I actually felt that life was so tiring and bitter that death didn't seem so bad.

That day, my mom took me to the rooftop, wanting to jump down together, but we were a little slow and some uncles saved us.

A few days later, my parents got divorced. I wasn't sad, because I felt that my mom could live on.

I still remember that on the day my mom left, she held me and said a lot, but I only remember one sentence: "Mom is sorry to you, I should have killed you earlier."

After that, it was just me and my dad living together. My dad got busier, busy making money and helping other people in the county. He became more and more respected by everyone.

But the frequency with which I got strung up also increased. I discovered that my dad was becoming more and more deranged.

Once, he even tied a rope around my neck and strung me up. I nearly died. Fortunately my dad let me down in time. He held me and cried for a very, very long time.

That day, for the first time, I heard my dad mention my grandfather's name. My dad said his father had hanged his own younger brother to death.

I didn't understand, but that was the first time I remember being held by my dad crying. I didn't feel any warmth, but wasn't as terrified anymore.

Since I was little I followed my dad learning legal affairs. Actually I didn't have much talent, but after being strung up so many times, I could learn anything. I suddenly realized that in the future I could also educate my children this way - it was very effective.

It wasn't until I started university that I separated from my dad. From then on, he never strung me up again. He didn't have the strength anymore.

During university, I dated a girl. I really liked her and she liked me too. We got together.

After graduating, we got married. The first six months were passionate and happy.

But then one day, I saw her joking and chatting with a male colleague. When she came home, she complained to me about everything that colleague did wrong.

My eyes instantly turned red. I realized then that my wife was so hypocritical, just like my dad.

So I decided to punish her. I didn't talk to her or touch her, just looked at her coldly like that.

Those few months, whenever I saw her crying, aggrieved, in pain - it made me feel so gratified, just like seeing my dad in pain.

Thinking of my dad gave me an idea - have a child, then find an excuse to call my dad over.

That day, I apologized to my wife and fooled her with some excuse. And a month later, she successfully got pregnant.

The child was born, a boy. I really liked him. I wanted my son to become as outstanding as me, no, even more outstanding than me.

My dad finally came over. He had aged a lot and didn't look as fierce anymore. I wasn't afraid of him anymore.

From that day on, every day I demanded my dad dress properly. If I was dissatisfied, I would string him up and just watch him like that.

My dad didn't resist either, just silently wept. One day, he said a confusing sentence that I didn't really understand.

"It's all my fault, it's all my fault, I shouldn't have imposed pain on you. I'm sorry, Shang'er."

The child grew up day by day. I discovered this child was disobedient, always not meeting my demands. I'm his father, how could I harm him?

So I strung him up. My wife clamored, and I just looked at her coldly, didn't hit or scold her, because I deeply hated domestic violence.

But a few years ago, I discovered that in my neighborhood, several households would often quarrel noisily. After asking around, I found out that several men were beating their wives.

I was furious. After finding out the details, I was even more furious. A teacher, a policeman, a civil servant - all esteemed professions.