The third set of rules for Mushroom Village, found inside the ancestral hall, had been hidden away by Xie Jia.

[If the God Worship Festival has not yet begun, take a dog with you and leave Mushroom Village as quickly as possible. Do not abandon the dog—only the dog can point you toward the way out.]

[If the God Worship Festival has already begun, respect the local customs, take part in the celebration, and listen carefully to the festival's songs.]

[The Sacred Canon is supreme. Serve the Dog God, and your name will be recorded in the Sacred Canon. (The following sentence is crossed out) Never let your name appear in the Sacred Canon.]

Xie Jia knew that if she handed over this third set of rules, which explicitly described how to leave, Hao Shijun would undoubtedly choose to lead everyone out at once.

But she didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay and take part in the festival—because only then could she gather more information and uncover the secrets of this haunted realm.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

To address the increasingly frequent appearance of haunted realms, the country has introduced numerous special privileges—recruiting those who have gained talents from these realms as haunted-realm investigators. These benefits even include reductions or exemptions from the death penalty.

If she could gain a talent from this haunting, she wouldn't have to fear her crimes being exposed. On the contrary—she could use it to protect her mother.

"Did you make up your mind to do this the moment you entered the haunted realm?" Inside the interrogation room, Xie Jia—already dressed in prison clothes—sat across from Hao Shijun.

His lips were dry, and when he asked the question, he couldn't help but lick them.

Xie Jia slowly shook her head—then, after a few seconds, nodded.

"Not at first. But once I got the third set of rules, I decided." Her voice was quiet.

"I'm not as stupid as my mom. I knew that even if she took the blame, you'd find out the truth. My mom had no way to get the poison—it was only me who could take it from the school lab. If it was traced to me, I'd accept my fate."

Hao Shijun didn't know what to say. He lowered his gaze to hide the complexity in his eyes, but his voice still carried emotion.

"You have only six months until the college entrance exam. I've seen your grades—you could get into a great university. Why do something that destroys your future?"

Xie Jia tilted her head at him. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed—as if she couldn't help it.

"Officer Hao, don't you find it strange? The thriller world can only be entered by adults over eighteen. So, almost all high school students will never enter a haunted realm—this is a hope reserved for the nation."

Hao Shijun froze. That's right—Xie Jia was in her third year of high school, but she had entered a haunted realm. She was already an adult—one year older than most seniors.

"He would never let me go to college," she said. "If you've looked into me carefully, then you must have found that last year, I didn't even sit for the exam. There was only one way to get free of him—kill him."

Hao Shijun couldn't stop himself from asking, "You never tried telling a teacher? Or going to the police?"

Xie Jia gave a cold laugh and rolled up her prison sleeve, revealing her thin arm.

She was so slim that not an ounce of extra fat could be seen, but her arms were unmarked—no bruises, no scars.

"What if I told you my father never hit me—he hit my mother instead? From the time I can remember, he stopped laying a hand on me. Maybe he was afraid that when I grew up and he got old, I'd hold a grudge? Or maybe he knew that if he hit a child, the marks would be seen by teachers, who might report it even if I didn't."

"But beating my mom was different. She was his wife. Even if I told my teachers, they'd see it as a family matter. Since I wasn't the one being hurt, they wouldn't get involved. If we called the police? They'd just mediate—and then he'd hit her harder."

"People around us would say things like, 'A wife you marry is like dough—you have to beat it to make it obedient.' Or, 'What woman doesn't get hit by her husband? At least he's good to your daughter, hasn't laid a hand on her.'"

"And my mom thought the same—at least he never hit her daughter. My tuition was paid by that man. So she told herself to endure it, for my sake."

"Last year, I didn't take the college entrance exam—because right before it, my mother was beaten half to death. I took her to the hospital. While everyone else was sitting for the test, I was waiting outside the emergency room."

Xie Jia spoke slowly, as if telling an ordinary story. Her face was utterly calm, with no trace of sorrow or grief.

Her decision to act hadn't been sudden; it was the result of careful planning. She had even thought through what would come afterward.

But Wang Hui hadn't. She was just an uneducated, unemployed woman. Her first thought was simply to take the blame for her daughter.

A naïve notion—how could she believe that modern forensic investigation wouldn't uncover the truth? Taking the blame would only result in both mother and daughter being convicted.

But then a turning point came—they entered the haunted realm. Because Xie Jia had destroyed the Sacred Canon, uncovered most of Mushroom Village's secrets, she gained a talent when she emerged from the haunted realm.

"We've completed the investigation of your case," Hao Shijun told her before leaving the room. "Next, you'll undergo a psychological assessment. If there's no problem, I hope you'll serve the country and strive for a sentence reduction."

"Your mother's act of taking the blame constitutes the crime of harboring an offender. She'll be sentenced to between one and three years in prison. But don't worry—once you apply for special protection, she will be taken care of."

After saying goodbye to Xie Jia, Hao Shijun entered a small reception room. Though plainly furnished, the people sitting on either side of the conference table were far from ordinary.

Once he had taken a seat, the person in the center got straight to the point.

"The woman you mentioned—Wan Qian—with the exceptionally strong talent... we've run a preliminary search through the national database. The results show that none of the profiles match her."

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