Chapter Forty-One: The Mysterious Autopsy

After a moment of contemplation, Ji Changge said, “I know someone who can verify it. Her skill in examining corpses rivals that of Song Ci.”

“Who is it?” Wen Qiran and Su Mu asked in unison.

Ji Changge cast a subtle glance at Wen Qiran, surprised. Did he not know that Wen Qiniang could examine corpses? Wen Qiran’s behavior at the county office had already aroused his suspicion, but last time, Wen Qiniang didn’t seem like someone inexperienced in such matters. How could this be? Had Wen Qiniang been hiding this from her father all along?

“Lord Ji?” Wen Qiran’s sharp gaze swept across Ji Changge’s face.

Ji Changge collected himself. “However, this person is quite mysterious. Whenever she examines a corpse, she never shows her true face.”

Wen Qiran and Su Mu were both taken aback. Why would a coroner go to such lengths to hide her identity?

Ji Changge continued, “Perhaps she fears her reputation will spread too widely, and people from all around will seek her expertise. So she covers her face with black cloth and never allows anyone to watch her work.”

“What do you think, Lord Wen?” Su Mu looked at Wen Qiran.

Wen Qiran pondered, “According to the law, the county official must personally examine the corpse… There’s never been a precedent for a coroner working alone. I fear it’s improper.”

Ji Changge gave Su Mu a meaningful look, his lips curling into a faint, elusive smile.

Su Mu’s face grew even paler. He thought to himself, If no one comes to examine this corpse, won’t I have to do it myself? Glancing again at the body with bubbles of green froth, Lord Su rushed out once more to retch.

Ji Changge watched Su Mu dash out in silence, while Wen Qiran sighed.

“Does Lord Wen know any coroners personally?” Ji Changge asked calmly.

Wen Qiran shook his head. He was only acquainted with a few coroners from the Ministry of Justice, all perpetually busy, and given his current status, “inviting” them would mean waiting in line for months.

“Very well, let’s proceed as you suggest. Lord Ji, I’ll trouble you to extend the invitation.”

Su Mu, his face slightly flushed, returned, visibly relieved that Wen Qiran had finally consented. He had been so frightened earlier that his legs nearly gave out. Examining a corpse? It was even more revolting than pursuing the pockmarked, obese courtesan of Apricot Blossom Pavilion!

“Excellent, excellent,” Su Mu said with a smile. “I’ll leave this to Lord Ji and Lord Wen. I’ll take Chief Constable Nie to question the witnesses.”

Chief Nie smiled, “That’s exactly what I had in mind.”

Su Mu was very pleased with Chief Nie’s quick-witted response.

…

That afternoon, Wen Qiran, who had waited at the mortuary for some time, finally saw Ji Changge arrive, followed by a mysterious figure completely shrouded in black, descending from a sedan chair. She carried a box, also veiled in black cloth. Her wide black robe concealed her form, a veiled hat covered her face, and she wore sheepskin gloves. Wen Qiran was unimpressed—after years in the Ministry of Justice, he’d heard of every coroner of note, yet never of such a secretive person who wouldn’t even allow others to witness her dissections. He suspected it was all a ruse to profit from the affair, leaving no trace afterward. He wondered where Ji Changge had found such a character.

The mysterious figure bowed to Wen Qiran without speaking.

Wen Qiran frowned slightly. Was she mute?

“Lord Wen, shall we begin?” Ji Changge asked.

“It’s all up to you, Lord Ji,” Wen Qiran replied.

Ji Changge pointed to the corpse placed at the center of the room. “You may start.”

The mysterious figure nodded and bent to examine the body.

Wen Qiran was surprised, recalling that Ji Changge had said the coroner never allowed onlookers. As he thought this, several clerks erected a screen, separating Ji Changge and the black-robed figure from the outside world.

Wen Qiniang removed her veiled hat; the robe and hat were nearly steaming her alive. She wished she could shed the robe as well—the sticky feeling of sweat-soaked clothes was something she hadn’t experienced in ages. Glancing at the calm, fan-waving Young Lord Ning beside her, Wen Qiniang’s brow twitched twice. She must have been out of her mind to agree to someone’s suggestion to wrap herself up like a mummy and come all this way to examine a corpse. Of course, she wasn’t one to do good deeds without leaving her name, and besides, this was originally a matter for the Hanjiang County office; she considered it a favor for her father.

A wave of stench assaulted her senses. In modern times, a gas mask would greatly reduce the smell, but in the primitive conditions of this era, Wen Qiniang could only cover her mouth and nose with a towel—not just for the odor, but also for protection. She held a few slices of fresh ginger in her mouth.

The female corpse was horrifying—the eyes bulged, the tongue protruded, and the clothing was so degraded its original color was unrecognizable. Gases had filled the body, causing it to swell like a balloon, the skin black-green and sticky to the touch. Wen Qiniang carefully wiped the surface with gauze, but the advanced decomposition meant the skin inevitably broke.

She took out pen and paper, writing: “No external wounds found; dissection required.”

Ji Changge read the note, nodded, and recited its contents to Wen Qiran outside.

Wen Qiran’s expression remained unchanged. Such perfunctory words—on a corpse like that, even after dissection, wounds would probably remain undetected, and one could easily declare the death as drowning.

Wen Qiniang cut away the deceased’s clothing with scissors, then took up a scalpel and slowly opened the chest and abdomen. As the blade went in, there was a sharp “pop”—everyone was startled. Wen Qiniang quickly covered her mouth and nose, and Ji Changge, hearing the unusual sound, rushed in front of Wen Qiniang and couldn’t help but retch; the stench was even worse than before.

Wen Qiniang was caught off guard. Seeing the tall figure shielding her, she suddenly felt uncertain. After a moment, she tugged at Ji Changge’s sleeve and pointed at the corpse.

Ji Changge looked and saw the once distended belly had collapsed, like a burst balloon. He felt a bit embarrassed, coughed twice, and retreated once more—he’d thought the corpse had come back to life…

Wen Qiniang continued to cut open the abdomen with the scalpel. The trachea and lungs were so decomposed it was impossible to determine whether the cause was drowning. She cut open the stomach and found it quite dry, with no fluid. Could it be that drowning wasn’t the cause?

Ji Changge saw Wen Qiniang fixated on a certain incision and asked, “Any discoveries?”

Wen Qiniang wrote, “The stomach is dry, no water. Not drowned.”

She then took up scissors to cut open the intestines and found partially digested food, just entering the duodenum. This indicated the victim had died within a few hours of eating—the food remained in the duodenum.

Ji Changge watched Wen Qiniang, fully absorbed in her task, as if she were embroidering rather than dissecting a corpse so terrifying. If he didn’t know the figure beneath the black cloth was a woman, he would never believe a woman could remain so composed before such a gruesome sight.