After I Died Unjustly, I Became a Devil

What they say I am. Then what am I. Three years ago, Lu Chen was pressed down on that iron chair, his throat choked with his own blood. Someone put a knife into his stiff hand and closed the case - "Rape and murder, suicide out of fear of crime." " The entire Internet reveled, calling him a beast, a scum, and a good death. Even his sister, who was taken away when she was five years old, had photos posted with the caption "Your brother is a rapist." No one knew the girl was still alive. No one knew that he just broke into the crime scene of rich young master Zhao Shijie and was dragged away as a scapegoat. Three years later, he crawled out of a deserted grave without a tombstone. His white hair and eyes filled with resentment. He wants everyone to know what "the scum you call back" means. The person who pressed the fingerprints cut off his own hand, and the person who cut his throat cut his own neck with his own hands. And those who were typing excitedly behind the keyboard found that their lips were tightly sealed with white hair when they woke up. But just when he was about to be completely swallowed up by his resentment, there was a voice that kept ringing in his ears repeatedly - it was the female forensic doctor who secretly took photos of the wounds, the classmate who carried his body for twenty miles at night, the sanitation workers who put a bun in front of his grave every day, and the group of "lunatics" who never stopped calling for his injustice for three years. They are his salvation and his choice: continue to be an unstoppable evil spirit in the eyes of the world, or find the boy who remembered his sister's name before his throat was cut?