Chapter 13: The First Autopsy

These two are fellow disciples?

Lu Ziqing’s sharp gaze swept over Shen Qianmo and Qin Niansheng standing before him. One was a refined and elegant gentleman, the other a messy, dirt-streaked boy. Were these two truly taught by the same master? And why was this person wearing half a mask—was he unable to show his real face?

But he had no time to ponder such matters now; whether it was true or not could be left for later. First, he needed to resolve the predicament at hand. The corpse had already lain in the morgue for two days; any further delay would only make things more difficult.

Shen Qianmo met Lu Ziqing’s eyes. So this was the youngest third-rank official in the Da Sheng dynasty, as the rumors claimed—indeed, his presence was formidable. Dressed in a purple official’s robe, his features were austere and reserved, yet his keen eyes betrayed a shrewdness that seemed to see through one’s very soul, leaving nowhere to hide.

This man would not be easy to deal with. Had she known Qin Niansheng was so unkempt, should she have made herself look a bit more disheveled too? Composing herself, Shen Qianmo gave a calm salute and said, “Commoner Mo Xin pays respects to Lord Lu.”

Lu Ziqing knew well that his stern, unsmiling demeanor usually made people uneasy in his presence, so seeing this “Mo Xin” meet his gaze with such composure impressed him—there was some courage here, and he felt a hint of approval.

“No need for formalities,” he said coldly. “Since you are a disciple of Qin Lin, come with me to the morgue.”

The morgue was built in the basement on the north side of the Ministry of Justice, where the temperature was lower, making it suitable for preserving bodies. As they reached the entrance, a cold wind swept through. Shen Qianmo noticed Lvzhu’s face turn ashen with fright and told her to wait outside, but Lvzhu insisted on accompanying her inside.

Descending a dozen stone steps, they saw rows of neatly arranged mortuary beds—two rows of five each. Shen Qianmo paused and said to Lvzhu, “Ah Zhu, take out the items from the bag.”

The name “Ah Zhu” was gender-neutral and should not arouse suspicion.

Lvzhu carried a blue cloth bundle. She opened it and handed Shen Qianmo a strange, lake-blue garment. Made of cotton and linen, it was donned by threading both arms through the front and tying it at the back. The robe was oversized, enveloping Shen Qianmo completely and making her appear even more petite.

None present had ever seen such odd attire; they watched her with puzzled expressions. Lvzhu then produced a matching mask to cover Shen Qianmo’s face, followed by a pair of white gloves. Thus, only half of Shen Qianmo’s face and her eyes remained visible. Once fully equipped, she nodded to Qin Niansheng and said, “Let’s begin.”

Qin Niansheng also donned a mask and walked to the bed in the upper left corner, pulling back the white cloth to reveal a male corpse. After two days, the body had begun to emit the stench of decay. Even with a mask, Lu Ziqing frowned; the bailiffs nearby turned their heads away, unable to look directly, and Lvzhu turned pale, on the verge of retching.

This was Shen Qianmo’s first true examination of a corpse since arriving here. Standing fully prepared before the body, she felt her old professional instincts awaken, every cell in her body coming alive. Lvzhu stared in disbelief at her young mistress, who seemed almost exhilarated before the corpse, and thought with dismay: “Oh no, has Miss gone mad from fright after that fire? Why does she seem so unnatural?”

But Shen Qianmo had no time to care about others’ thoughts. She bent over, wholly focused on examining the corpse.

“Deceased: male, aged between twenty and twenty-three, height…” She paused, converted the measurements in her mind, and continued, “about six chi. Judging by the livor mortis, time of death is…” She had intended to say forty to forty-eight hours but caught herself and corrected, “about twenty-four shichen, which is two days ago.”

Her tone was even and devoid of emotion. She glanced sidelong at the dazed Qin Niansheng and frowned, “Write this down.”

Since Shen Qianmo had bent down to examine the body, Qin Niansheng’s mind had been blank, overwhelmed by the light in her eyes. This, he thought, was true professionalism! Startled by her instruction, he instinctively replied, “Yes,” and began to take notes, as if following her orders was only natural.

Shen Qianmo continued her examination. “The eyes show mild cloudiness; no abnormalities in the nasal cavity or external auditory canal. The lips and mucous membranes are pale but uninjured. Teeth are intact, with slight black material between them. No marks on the neck. Mild bruising on the left chest, likely due to external force but not fatal. No abnormalities in the lower body.”

She examined the deceased’s groin without batting an eye. Lvzhu, catching a glimpse, nearly screamed and hurriedly covered her mouth, retreating to one side. Lu Ziqing and Qin Niansheng showed a trace of embarrassment. Shen Qianmo ignored them, concentrating on the deceased’s hands. Upon inspecting the right palm, she paused and asked Lu Ziqing, “Was the deceased a scholar who had passed the provincial exam?”

Lu Ziqing had been captivated by Shen Qianmo’s focused demeanor, but her sudden question startled him and, for a moment, his sharp gaze faltered. Recovering quickly, he nodded, “Correct. We’ve checked against the candidates’ register; he is Du Yu, the eldest son of Du Yuanwai from Suzhou.”

Shen Qianmo thought briefly and said, “Come over and take a look.”

Her tone was firm, leaving no room for refusal. Lu Ziqing didn’t mind and stepped beside her. Shen Qianmo said, “Look at his right palm.”

Lu Ziqing was quick-witted. Prompted by Shen Qianmo, he immediately spotted the issue. “He’s not a scholar!”

A worthy student! Shen Qianmo nodded. “Judging by the calluses on his palm, it looks more like the hand of someone who’s wielded a sword for years.”

Lu Ziqing shot a dark look at Qin Niansheng, his tone icy. “You couldn’t spot something this obvious and still claim to be a coroner?”

Qin Niansheng returned a helpless glance and thought to himself: Did I ever say I was a coroner? I’ve always emphasized I’m just an assistant, just an assistant!

The corpse showed no external signs of injury, making the cause of death difficult to determine. Shen Qianmo asked, “Is there a dissection knife?”

Qin Niansheng replied hesitantly, “There is, but… it seems to have rusted…”

His voice grew quieter, lacking confidence. Why did he feel embarrassed? But could he be blamed? Even their master had seldom used it.

Lu Ziqing’s expression darkened further. Shen Qianmo, helpless, said to Lvzhu, “Ah Zhu, give me the knife from the bag.”

Lvzhu’s face was strained. “Young master, you’re not really going to do… that dissection, are you?”

A sharp light flashed in Lu Ziqing’s eyes as he studied the master and servant, lost in thought.

Shen Qianmo nodded at Lvzhu, signaling her to hand it over. Reluctantly, Lvzhu produced a thin, razor-sharp dagger. Shen Qianmo had designed it herself and had it custom-made here—her first dissection knife, perfect for a trial run. Placing her left hand on the deceased’s chest, she drew the blade steadily down the centerline. A trickle of black blood oozed from the incision, and the scent of blood filled the room.

At the sight of Shen Qianmo cutting into the chest, Lvzhu turned as white as a sheet. The smell forced her to turn away and retch, while the two bailiffs who had come with Lu Ziqing also looked queasy and quickly averted their eyes.

“If you can’t take it, go outside,” Shen Qianmo said coolly, her hands never pausing.

“I…” Lvzhu could endure no more and bolted outside, retching audibly. Soon after, the two bailiffs hurried out as well.

Now, only Shen Qianmo, absorbed in her examination, Lu Ziqing, watching her intently as she scrutinized the organs, and Qin Niansheng, pale but scribbling notes, remained.

After a full hour of inspection—examining the deceased’s brain, heart, stomach, lungs, kidneys, and intestines—Shen Qianmo reached her conclusion: the man had died of acute pulmonary embolism leading to respiratory failure. The cause of the embolism was likely external, as the deceased was healthy and disease-free. Could it be related to the black substance found between his teeth? Shen Qianmo considered the black granules wrapped in the white cloth in her hand. This was likely some kind of drug, but determining its exact composition would require further testing. She doubted she could get results here, given the lack of equipment and tools.

So, the man had likely died of poisoning. But who was he, truly? Why impersonate Du Yu? And where was the real Du Yu? The case was growing ever more complex, and Lu Ziqing fell into deep thought.

Yet today's investigation was fruitful—she had determined the true cause of death and, more importantly, cleared Feng Ze of suspicion. That was the most important thing. The pressure from the General of the Western Campaign’s mansion had worn Lu Ziqing down these past days. Now, he had to investigate Du Yu’s whereabouts and the identity of the deceased.

After two days in the Ministry of Justice’s prison, Feng Ze was released without charge. Upon hearing that Qin Niansheng’s senior brother, Mo Xin, had cleared his name, he insisted on meeting him to express his gratitude, dragging Qin Niansheng all over the Ministry in search.

Meanwhile, Shen Qianmo was being interrogated relentlessly by Lu Ziqing in a side hall.

Lu Ziqing, astute as ever, had seen through the disguises of Shen Qianmo and Lvzhu since the morgue, realizing both were women dressed as men. His gaze now burned into Shen Qianmo as he demanded, “Who are you really? Why disguise yourself as Qin Niansheng’s senior brother and infiltrate the Ministry of Justice in men’s garb?” He had already checked—Qin Lin had no other disciples besides Qin Niansheng.

Shen Qianmo inwardly lamented—Lu Ziqing was indeed shrewd; had he seen through her so quickly? She’d thought her disguise was rather convincing. But her true identity was something she could never reveal—not only did it involve the Duke of Shen’s household, but also the Prince of Xuan’s. She could not bear the consequences. So she could only smile apologetically and say, “Please forgive me, Lord Lu. I truly cannot reveal my identity at this time. But rest assured, I mean no harm. I only intervened in this matter to help an old friend.”

“An old friend? Who?” Lu Ziqing pressed, frowning.

Shen Qianmo shook her head again. “I cannot say more, please understand.” She could not reveal that the old friend was Feng Ze, so she had to be evasive.

“You think I can’t find out just because you won’t tell me?” Lu Ziqing said coldly.

Shen Qianmo smiled, replying, “I believe Lord Lu has more urgent matters to attend to right now than questioning my identity.” Wasn’t the deceased’s identity far more pressing?

Lu Ziqing snorted, seeing he would get nothing more out of her, and swept away, intending to question Qin Niansheng next. He did not believe he could not uncover Mo Xin’s true identity.