The Hand of Confession – Chapter 141

Volume 5: Days of Applying Makeup to Corpses

Self-Immolation [自焚 | zìfén | ritual suicide by fire]

I’ll Take Responsibility

After three seconds, Shen Maomao asked timidly, “Should we… still proceed with the cremation?”

Where had Huang Hongxing’s body gone? Why was Xiao Qiao the one in the body bag?

Of all things, only Xiao Qiao, lying on the stretcher, seemed to know the answers.

Unfortunately, Xiao Qiao was already dead.

San Huang glanced at his phone, which displayed a large Arabic numeral 9. Time had slipped away to nine o’clock, less than an hour from Huang Hongxing’s specified deadline.

He panicked and blamed Shen Maomao: “This is all your fault! You just had to inspect the body. What do we do now?!”

Shen Maomao looked puzzled: “How is this my problem? Did I switch Xiao Qiao’s body? Is that thing on your head a brain or a ball? If it can’t think, might as well have someone kick it away.”

San Huang was dumbfounded, likely surprised that such a seemingly delicate girl could be so sharp with her retorts.

Shen Maomao continued: “Instead of passing blame, spend more time thinking about how to find the body.”

San Huang clenched his fists: “What’s there to find? Huang Hongxing only said we needed a body, not specifically his body. We just need to cremate her, and today’s task is complete.”

Dao Ba shrugged indifferently nearby: “I’m not the crematorium operator anyway. Do whatever you want, as long as you’re happy.”

San Huang silently gritted his teeth, probably cursing repeatedly in his mind.

He directed the four body-carriers to continue forward, and the group arrived at the cremation chamber. The crematorium had already been activated by someone unknown, needing only a final click to begin operation.

Everything seemed calculated. The four placed the body on the conveyor belt, and San Huang stood beside it, pressing the switch.

The crematorium began operating, and the conveyor belt slowly transported the body into the furnace.

The end of the body bag disappeared from everyone’s view, everything was ready, and the furnace lid began to descend.

Unexpectedly, in the next moment, San Huang, who stood by the control buttons, suddenly rushed forward like a madman, squeezing himself under the not-yet-fully-closed furnace lid.

He used such force that the blunt furnace lid scraped away a layer of his flesh. Before anyone could react, the lid sealed completely, the crematorium auto-ignited, and San Huang’s agonized screams echoed from within.

“Holy sh*t!” Shen Maomao darted to San Huang’s former position, with Lou Jingmo close behind, reaching the “STOP” button before her.

However, the furnace showed no response.

Shen Maomao also reached out, frantically pounding the “STOP” button: “Damn it! Stop, you piece of sh*t!”

The result was predictable – she achieved nothing.

The four body-carriers were terrified – San Huang had brushed past them, even knocking one person down.

San Huang’s wails continued, accompanied by rhythmic knocking sounds on the steel lid, though the sounds seemed to come from different distances.

The screams seemed far away, as if from deep within the furnace, while the knocking sound seemed separated from them by just a layer of steel.

Shen Maomao shuddered, suddenly feeling watched. She stepped back with a “swoosh”, looking around but finding no one staring at her.

After all, given the magnitude of what had happened, everyone’s eyes were fixed on the crematorium, staring so intently as if trying to bore holes through it.

Lou Jingmo gripped her wrist: “What’s wrong?”

“Can’t explain it…” Shen Maomao said uneasily, “feels like someone’s out to get me.”

The middle-aged auntie nearby sighed: “What evil karma! Why would he do such a thing?”

Dao Ba smirked: “Probably karma catching up for all his misdeeds.”

The group showed no intention of rescue, standing coldly before the crematorium as if it contained not a living person but a deceased acquaintance, and they were merely relatives and friends attending a final farewell.

San Huang’s wails continued as Shen Maomao looked around anxiously, located the main power switch of the crematorium, and rushed to pull it down.

The screaming stopped abruptly, but that bone-chilling knocking continued.

“What are you doing?” Dao Ba strode over, reaching for her arm.

Shen Maomao nimbly dodged, moving away from the switch: “You choose to ignore someone in peril, I choose to save them. Let’s not interfere with each other’s choices.”

Dao Ba said: “Your choices don’t concern me, but they certainly affect these four. Why not ask their opinion?” As he spoke, he put his hand on the switch and pushed it back up.

He was completely indifferent to San Huang’s fate, even anticipating his death, as then no one would oppose him, and he could take San Huang’s position to become the new ruler.

As the furnace restarted, Shen Maomao angrily said: “While you waste time discussing, does the person inside have time to wait?!”

Dao Ba replied: “Obviously that fat guy isn’t the one knocking. If you open it and release some monster, what about everyone’s safety here? Can you take responsibility?!”

Shen Maomao’s eyes widened slightly, clearly having not considered this point.

As the furnace restarted and the buttons lit up again, Lou Jingmo immediately pressed the door button, then turned to look at Dao Ba, saying airily: “I’ll take responsibility.”

Dao Ba opened and closed his mouth, but ultimately said nothing and moved aside.

The crematorium lid opened again, releasing a wave of heat accompanied by a nauseating smell of cooked flesh. Everyone stepped back two paces, except Lou Jingmo, Shen Maomao, and Dao Ba who remained in place.

The first thing to appear in their view was a charred arm—just a single arm.

The arm’s surface was charred black, impossible to tell whether it belonged to San Huang or Xiao Qiao. It flopped like a fish out of water at the furnace opening, yet never managed to jump beyond the crematorium’s bounds.

The onlookers fell silent as Shen Maomao called into the furnace: “San Huang? Are you still alive?”

No sound came from within, only the severed hand persistently thrashing, creating dull thuds as it struck the furnace floor.

Lou Jingmo studied the buttons again and pressed one, activating the conveyor belt which carried the severed arm into the furnace’s depths before bringing out the bodies within.

Xiao Qiao emerged first.

Her skin had melted, appearing not only horrifying but emanating a ghastly stench, causing everyone to cover their noses and turn away. The more timid ones even fled the cremation chamber.

Though grotesque in appearance, Xiao Qiao’s limbs were intact – clearly, the severed arm wasn’t hers.

San Huang lay not far from Xiao Qiao.

He showed no signs of life. But surprisingly, his body had undergone bizarre changes—

Both his arms had vanished without a trace, leaving only clean cuts. One severed arm had been “exercising” at the door before being sent into the furnace’s depths, while the other’s whereabouts remained unknown.

Moreover, his body mass had reduced by at least half. He was now remarkably thin, the fat beneath his skin mysteriously gone, leaving only loose, slightly charred skin that emitted a strong scent of roasted meat.

Lou Jingmo stopped the conveyor belt and reached for San Huang’s neck.

Shen Maomao grabbed her hand: “Let me!” She put on the heat-resistant gloves nearby and tremblingly reached toward San Huang’s corpse, hesitating to make contact.

Suddenly, Lou Jingmo embraced her from behind, gripping her wrists and guiding her hands forward, steadily placing them on San Huang’s neck.

Shen Maomao was completely stunned.

The two stood very close, with Lou-jie’s size-36 chest pressed against her back. Her embrace was so warm that it strangely calmed Shen Maomao’s anxious heart.

The heat-resistant gloves weren’t particularly thick; she could even feel the strange, soft texture beneath them.

There was no pulse in San Huang’s neck.

He was dead.

Shen Maomao lifted her hand, finding skin like melted rubber stuck to the glove, while yellow fluid leaked from his corpse, creating an unbearable stench.

Lou Jingmo covered her nose and mouth with her hand. Leaning against Lou Jingmo’s warm chest, Shen Maomao’s thoughts inexplicably drifted.

How could someone as cold as Lou Jingmo have such a warm embrace?

Dao Ba covered his nose, cursing: “What a waste of time! This is disgusting!”

Lou Jingmo gave him a cold glance before turning back to Shen Maomao, saying gently: “Take off the gloves, he’s beyond saving.”

Shen Maomao nodded, leaving the soiled gloves in the crematorium.

The smell was unbearable, causing some to retreat outside. Lou Jingmo restarted the crematorium, the steel lid closed, and the knocking resumed, but this time no one would help open it.

They were the last to leave the cremation chamber. When they exited, only Guan Qiwen remained in the empty courtyard.

Seeing them, Guan Qiwen stood up straight and said: “I took Gong Lian to the neighboring mortuary. The scarred man told everyone to disperse, so I waited here for you.”

Shen Maomao added: “San Huang is dead.”

“Oh?” Guan Qiwen seemed surprised, “How did he die?”

Shen Maomao hesitated: “From the circumstances, it appears to be suicide.”

Guan Qiwen: “??”

“He suddenly crawled into the crematorium, and his skin melted completely…”

“That’s enough, say no more.” Guan Qiwen interrupted her, “I can already picture the scene.”

After exchanging information, both turned to look at their leader Lou Jingmo, wanting to know her thoughts.

Unexpectedly, Lou Jingmo wrapped an arm around Shen Maomao’s shoulders, leading her forward with a swaying gait, saying: “Let’s go back to sleep. Turn in early tonight—there might be activity at midnight.”

Shen Maomao: “Lou-jie, we can talk things through! No need to get handsy—control your inner gay!”

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LP: THANK YOU WUTONG!!!

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