In the ice-cold mortuary, Song Yi’an, the coroner of the Court of Judicial Review, worked with a scarf over his face and gloves on his hands. He carefully lifted seven or eight frost‑covered fragments of flesh onto the wooden rack beside the brazier. These frozen blocks, hard as stone, were the chest and abdominal remains of the victims Zheng Ran, Wu Ruohan, and Qian Gantang.
Song Yi’an’s brows knotted into the shape of the character “川” as he watched the frost slowly melt away. In his muffled voice he said, “My lord, it will take at least another half hour before they thaw completely…”
As the ice gave way, a pungent stench of rot filled the side hall. Pei Yan opened the window, then turned to the grave‑faced Jiang Li. “Miss, you still haven’t explained how you came upon this idea.”
Jiang Li’s gaze lingered on the thawing remains before she answered, “It came to me the other day at Princess Qingyang’s banquet. Today at the Earl residence, I found confirmation, and it explains why the other victims bore so few marks.”
Pei Yan’s eyes narrowed. “Princess Qingyang’s manor—”
Fu Yunheng interjected, “The Flower‑Viewing Banquet? I heard Her Highness recently cultivated a rare peony and invited many guests to admire it. Just yesterday I met the heir of Prince Yiyang, who mentioned it.”
Jiang Li nodded, unwilling to elaborate further. Pei Yan turned back to Song Yi’an. “When the remains were first discovered, the surface was too decayed, the organs unrecognizable. Once the cause of death and weapon were determined, the viscera were no longer examined. Months have passed; most hope now rests on the last two victims.”
The killer had hacked the bodies into tiny pieces. The first three died in summer and early autumn, when organs could not be preserved. Only Wu Ruohan and Qian Gantang perished in winter, leaving a faint chance.
Fu Yunheng, holding his nose, muttered, “But the killer delayed discarding the corpses longer and longer, likely to worsen the decay. It all depends on Coroner Song now.”
Though coroners were considered menial, Song Yi’an was of official descent. His family had fallen into disgrace, forcing him into servitude. By chance, he learned the coroner’s craft, served two years in Shangzhou, and was transferred to the Court of Judicial Review earlier this year. At twenty‑five, tall and striking, with scholarly features, he looked more like a learned gentleman than a lowly coroner.
As he shifted the remains, Song Yi’an could not help but remark, “This murderer kept the pieces in his own home after each killing. How he endured the stench is beyond me. The last two corpses should never have rotted so far—he must have deliberately kept a brazier burning indoors…”
Jiang Li, knowing thawing could not be rushed, turned to Pei Yan. “My lord, you said you wished my help. For what matter?”
Pei Yan signaled to Jiu Si, who promptly brought in a large mulberry‑paper bundle from the main hall. He spread it upon an empty coffin bed, revealing two stained garments.
Pei Yan explained, “In re‑examining the case, I reviewed all five victims’ belongings. This crimson shawl belonged to the second victim, Kang Yun; this saffron pleated skirt to the fourth, Wu Ruohan. The killer used both garments to wrap body parts. At the time, the yamen inspected them thoroughly, but the stains were too heavy to yield clues. Yesterday, while comparing the evidence, I noticed both bore the same unusual residue. Coroner Song examined it but could not identify it. Suspecting it to be medicinal, I hoped you might assist.”
Jiang Li’s heart tightened at the words, and she immediately stepped closer to examine. Pei Yan continued, “Kang Yun’s body was discarded in the reeds by Mochou Lake south of the city, stained with mud and sand. Wu Ruohan’s corpse was thrown near two sewage ditches in the western quarter, and when it was found, it was covered with kitchen refuse. At the time, the stains on Wu Ruohan’s skirt were dismissed as food waste. Yet such refuse could never appear on the sandy banks of Mochou Lake. This strongly suggests the stains came from the killer’s dwelling—or from the site where the dismemberment took place.”
The marks Pei Yan described clung to silks and gauze already stiffened by blood and mud. The residue looked like dried ink, dark brown to the eye, with tiny granules palpable to the touch.
Jiang Li’s brows furrowed. “Bring two clean bowls and fetch hot water.”
Jiu Si hurried off, with Huai Xi assisting. Soon, two porcelain bowls filled with steaming water were brought in. Jiang Li carefully placed the stained scraps into the warmth, gently rubbing them—the ink‑like blot dissolved, clouding the water until both bowls turned murky.
After letting them settle, she poured the water away. At the bottom lay fine brown sediment—just like the dregs left after decocting medicine. Jiang Li pinched a trace between her fingers and sniffed lightly. “Licorice… cinnamon.”
Pei Yan’s eyes lit up. “So it is medicine. For what illness?”
Jiang Li answered gravely, “Licorice and cinnamon replenish qi, warm the meridians, and ease weakness of the spleen and stomach—cold pain in the abdomen, vomiting, diarrhea, palpitations, shortness of breath. But they are not only for illness; some restorative formulas use them for general tonics. I will need time to identify more herbs before we can be certain.”
Pei Yan nodded. “There is no need to rush.”
Jiang Li’s brows knit tighter as she studied the bowls. After a moment, she said, “There seems also to be clove bark and zedoary. Clove bark is often used in Clove Powder, prescribed for children’s abdominal distension. Zedoary moves qi and breaks blood stasis, relieves pain from food stagnation, abdominal swelling, menstrual obstruction, and hard masses…”
Pei Yan stepped closer. “All remedies for abdominal pain?”
Jiang Li inclined her head. “Indeed. But the two victims were attacked three months apart. Abdominal pain is not a grave illness—the killer could not have been taking such medicine continuously for three months.”
Her quick reasoning drew Pei Yan’s agreement. “That is true.”
Fu Yunheng interjected, “But what if it were a coincidence?”
Jiang Li sighed. “If we explain everything away as coincidence, this case will never be solved.”
As they spoke, the remains thawed completely. Song Yi’an, with a two‑inch dissection knife, began carefully cutting into the corpse fragments. Jiang Li, unable to discern further herbs, turned her gaze to the long case before him.
The organs had fused with flesh and bone during decay. Song Yi’an could only peel away the rotted surface to reveal what lay beneath, then painstakingly distinguish which organ was which. The process was nauseating, and within minutes, sweat beaded his brow.
After another half hour, Song Yi’an raised his head. “My lord, Wu Ruohan’s chest cavity shows no trace of the heart. It seems too far decayed. Yet she died in early winter—there should have been some remnant of the organ. Not a single chamber remains!”
Pei Yan and Fu Yunheng both straightened with sudden intensity. Song Yi’an bent over the remains again and, before long, exclaimed in shock, “My lord, Qian Gantang’s fragments also show no trace of the heart. Let me examine Zheng Ran—”
Though not all had yet been inspected, the absence in these last two victims was enough to confirm Jiang Li’s suspicion. Pei Yan’s face lit with grim satisfaction. “Miss, your deduction was correct—it was indeed to take the heart—”
Fu Yunheng shuddered. “To prey specifically on brides‑to‑be, and then carve out their hearts… Could the killer be some fiend or demon? What use is a maiden’s heart? Wouldn’t it rot within days?”
The motive was no ordinary lust or passion, and Pei Yan felt no relief. “Each victim was a bride awaiting marriage, full of expectation and affection for her future husband. Perhaps the killer fixated on that. But whatever the reason, he must have had a purpose in taking the heart.”
Fu Yunheng’s expression twisted. “I’ve read tales where evil spirits feast on human hearts. Surely the murderer isn’t…” His voice broke, nausea rising in his throat. He quickly cut himself off, hurried to the window, and gulped the cold air until the sickness subsided.
Pei Yan said firmly, “Ghost stories are not to be trusted. Yet though the killer took the victims’ hearts, he treated the bodies with utter disdain. It gives the impression that the hearts were meant for some use.”
Jiang Li nodded. “I feel the same. His dismemberment and disposal were all to conceal the act of heart‑removal. He feared above all that the authorities would discover it. I suspect he even used them in a place known to many…”
Her words chilled the room. Fu Yunheng whispered, “Used in public? But how? A heart is like raw flesh—within summer days it would rot. Unless chopped and mixed into something, it would be easily exposed.”
His description made everyone think of food, and their stomachs turned uneasily.
Pei Yan pressed on. “The actors and entertainers are still under investigation. So far we’ve traced two famous troupes in Chang’an who performed at four of the victims’ households. Only the Wu family never invited them, but they did attend a banquet at the Zheng residence where a troupe was present. So indeed, the performers had the opportunity to contact all five families. Yet each troupe numbers over a hundred people, and verifying alibis will take days.”
Jiang Li nodded. Pei Yan continued, “Beyond the troupes, the strongest ties among the five families in the past half year were all related to marriage. In this respect, they shared common connections.”
Jiang Li looked puzzled. Pei Yan explained, “First, the silk shops and jewelers for wedding gowns, headpieces, and ornaments. Second, the furniture and rare goods merchants for dowries and bridal gifts. Third, the banquet suppliers for wedding feasts. The latter two offered little chance to reach the brides themselves, so we focused on the first. All five families were wealthy or noble, and the shops they frequented overlapped considerably—”
Jiang Li held Pei Yan’s gaze without wavering, but he said, “All the official documents are kept at the Court of Judicial Review. The investigation is vast and complex—hardly explained in a few words. If you wish to understand, you may accompany me there later.”
Her heart stirred at the offer, though caution reminded her to be wary of his penetrating eyes. At that moment, Fu Yunheng spoke up: “Miss Xue is meticulous, and being a woman, she is well‑suited to assist in such a case. After all, the victims were all young ladies. The items for marriage are things only women truly know. The yamen runners can chase about all day and still fail to tell Yun brocade from Shu brocade…”
Just then, Song Yi’an suddenly said, “My lord, I have examined Miss Zheng’s remains as well. Though her body was not preserved as well as Miss Wu’s or Miss Qian’s, I am certain—she, too, was robbed of her heart. Moreover—” He drew a deep breath. “Moreover, I suspect these young women were cut open alive.”
“Alive—while their hearts were carved out?!”
Fu Yunheng recoiled in horror. “From what do you see that?”
Song Yi’an turned to Pei Yan. “My lord should recall—the fatal wound was first determined when Miss Zheng’s body was found. The cut was deep across her chest, inflicted while she still lived. Today, upon re‑examination, I found the wound lay extremely close to the heart. If the killer had stabbed her to death first and then removed the heart, there ought to be a deeper blade mark in the chest. Yet in her thoracic fragments, no such deeper wound exists.”
A chill ran through Jiang Li. She thought of Fu Yunci’s injury—also perilously near the heart. Remembering how the killer struck during her struggle, she could not help but suspect he had meant to end it swiftly by ripping the heart out.
The pain of ten fingers is unbearable—how much worse to be carved open alive? Everyone in the room shivered. Fu Yunheng cursed under his breath.
Jiang Li fell silent for a moment, then said coldly, “Since the killer’s purpose is now clear, all old clues must be re‑examined. Lord Pei, I will return with you to the Court of Judicial Review and see if I can be of aid.”
…
The Court of Judicial Review lay within Shunyi Gate, just outside the Forbidden precinct. The carriage rolled north from the burial grounds in the southern quarter. By the time they reached Shunyi Gate, it was nearly the hour of Shen. As the carriage halted, Jiang Li heard a voice outside—familiar, faintly.
“Lord Pei, where have you returned from?”
As she stepped down, she saw a young man standing beyond the gate, clad in a raven‑blue cloak patterned with swallows. Snowflakes drifted thickly; he held a parasol, waiting as though for some time.
Jiang Li’s pupils contracted slightly. Gathering her cloak, she walked toward Shunyi Gate with calm composure.
“Just returned from the burial grounds—”
“The burial grounds? Have you found new clues?”
Pei Yan’s voice was low. “There are indeed clues, but I cannot disclose them to you yet. Go back and wait for news.”
The young man hesitated, then said quickly, “Very well. I trust you will not let us wait in vain. Since you still have official duties, I won’t intrude further…” He bowed in farewell, but as he left, his eyes lingered curiously on Jiang Li.
Once inside Shunyi Gate, Pei Yan explained, “That was Jin Congshan, eldest son of Grand Physician Jin Yongren. He now serves at the Imperial Medical Bureau. He and Wu Ruohan were childhood companions, so he is deeply concerned about the case.”
Jiang Li recognized him at once. Five years ago, before Wei Jie’s downfall, Jin Yongren had been only an ordinary physician, and Jin Congshan had just entered the bureau. Her face remained impassive as she said, “Young Master Jin truly cared for Miss Wu.”
The Court of Judicial Review, charged with all criminal cases under heaven, was imposing in its grandeur. Pei Yan led Jiang Li through its gates, past rows of sweeping eaves, toward an eastern courtyard. Soon they reached a heavily guarded compound, where a stern‑faced servant awaited—Pei Yan’s trusted aide, Shi’an.
Shi’an bowed. “Master, Miss Xue—” His expression betrayed no surprise. He lifted the heavy curtain and ushered them inside.
Jiang Li followed Pei Yan into a hall of elegant simplicity. Beneath the western window stood a desk piled with dozens of official documents, one of which was spread open at the center, showing that Pei Yan had been reading before he left.
A brazier warmed the room. Pei Yan removed his cloak and went to the desk. “All the documents are here. Coroner Song’s examinations are included. If there is anything you don’t understand, you may ask me.”
Jiang Li handed her cloak to Huai Xi and stepped forward. The documents, though numerous, were neatly arranged; the brushes and inkstones beside them were in perfect order. She nodded and began reading from the leftmost stack—investigations into the first victim, Wang Yan, detailing her life, family, servants, habits, and dislikes.
Before long, Jiu Si brought hot tea and set a chair beside her. More lively than Shi’an, he smiled. “At least two hours’ reading here. Don’t tire yourself, miss.”
Fu Yunheng also came forward, taking two volumes. “The Imperial Guards only took over after the third case. I know little of the first three victims, especially Miss Kang and Miss Wang…”
As they read the old records, Shi’an handed Pei Yan fresh reports. He did not join them, but sat at a side table, leafing through the pages. For a time, the only sound in the room was the rustle of turning paper.
Jiang Li skimmed the records with remarkable speed, line after line, and only after half an hour did she remember the cup of tea at her side. She lifted it for a sip, but at once her brows knit. Glancing at the golden‑yellow brew, she flicked her eyes toward Pei Yan.
Pei Yan, absorbed in his documents, noticed nothing. Nearby, Jiu Si asked curiously, “What is it, miss? This is our master’s favorite—Huoshan Huangya. Not a rare tea, but mellow and refreshing.”
Jiang Li set the cup down with a shake of her head. Though her gaze returned to the papers, her thoughts were less settled than before. Drawing a deep breath, she cast aside distractions and resumed her rapid reading. Within another half hour, she had combed through the key points and listed her findings neatly on a sheet of xuan paper.
Fu Yunheng leaned in to look. “Though the five families shared some shops, no single store served them all. For wedding gowns, they went to Jinyun Shop or Zhang’s Clothier; Wang Yan made her own. For cosmetics, they frequented Fuxiang Studio, Ningxiang Pavilion, or Linxia Spring Hall. Jewelry was even more scattered—Rongbao Studio, Wande’s, Shuyu Studio, Su’s Goldsmith…”
Pei Yan rose and came closer. “They all visited these shops, long‑standing patrons. But if the killer lured the five victims as he tried to lure your sister, that theory falters. Grooms might buy clothes or ornaments, but they rarely enter cosmetic shops. Xu Lingze and Jin Yongren, for instance, never went to Fuxiang Studio or Linxia Spring Hall. Others never visited Ningxiang Pavilion. And Wande’s sells only women’s ornaments—none of them went there.”
Fu Yunheng frowned. “Then the killer must have used another method. He could disguise himself, change his voice, but that makes it harder still—unless he had some legitimate identity to linger in those shops. Yet tradesmen usually shun outsiders… Otherwise, perhaps the killer had nothing to do with the shops, but simply had dealings with each victim’s household.”
Pei Yan shook his head. “Almost impossible. The first two victims were merchants, moving in circles far from the last three families. Of those, only the Wu and Zheng households had private ties. The Court has already examined this.”
Seeing Jiang Li silent, Pei Yan asked, “Miss Xue, what do you think?”
She was studying Song Yi’an’s autopsy notes. “I am considering the weapon. It was a three‑inch single‑edged knife—common among carving tools. The act of cutting out a heart is no ordinary skill. But if the killer were trained in carving, he would wield such a blade with unusual precision.”
Fu Yunheng looked surprised. “Miss Xue, do you carve?”
She shook her head slightly. He said, “Brother Hechen, Young Prince Jiangling, is skilled at carving. The Directorate of Works lies just behind the Court. Why not ask him for a few carving knives to compare?”
Pei Yan remained composed. “The Court has already studied the weapon. Carving knives are indeed plausible. But now we also have the lead of the entertainers. In those troupes, many are adept with all manner of blades.”
Jiang Li agreed, though she added softly, “Whatever their trade, the purpose of heart‑removal remains obscure. Such cruelty betrays a twisted mind…” As she spoke, the curtain lifted.
Shi’an entered, face grave. “Young Master Fu, men from Shou’an’s household have come. They sought you at the Imperial Guards, found you absent, and came here instead.”
Fu Yunheng rose in surprise. “Who is it?”
A trembling voice answered from outside, “My lord, it is I…”
Before he could ask further, the voice grew indignant. “My lord, you must return at once—the Xu family has come to break off the engagement with our young lady—”