On the carriage ride to the mortuary, Huai Xi scrunched up her little face.
“You’re a physician, not a coroner. This is Chang’an, not the jianghu where we helped gather the dead—it’s not the same…”
Jiang Li replied calmly: “Medicine and coroner’s work share much in common. In today’s world, female physicians are rare. Many women, unwilling to be examined by male doctors, endure illness untreated. Over time, physicians know less and less about women’s ailments. That’s why people say, *‘Better to treat ten men than one woman.’* Women’s illnesses are seen as difficult mysteries. Fortunately, when I first studied medicine, my master taught me to treat women’s diseases. Healing the living and examining the dead are not the same, but if I can be of help, perhaps we can catch Ah Ci’s killer sooner.”
Huai Xi pouted: “Women are trapped in the inner quarters. Few, like you, study medicine from childhood. And those famous doctors outside—hardly any are willing to take female apprentices. With no path to learning, female physicians are even rarer. I never imagined you first studied women’s medicine…”
Her words stirred Jiang Li’s memories.
At the start of the twenty-sixth year of Jingde, seven-year-old Jiang Li had wandered into the Pujiu Temple’s healing hall in Puzhou. By early summer in May, torrential rains burst the Luo River’s banks, killing and injuring tens of thousands along its shores. When she and her master descended the mountain to aid the disaster victims, they encountered Yu Qingling and Wei Jie, who had also come to provide relief.
The Wei clan of Earl Guang’an had practiced medicine for generations. Wei Jie was the youngest Imperial Physician in over a century. His wife, Yu Qingling, from a collateral branch of the Yu family in Chang’an, had apprenticed under a wandering physician and specialized in women’s illnesses. Compassionate and skilled, she followed Wei Jie as he treated epidemic outbreaks, offering free consultations to afflicted women.
During one such clinic, Yu Qingling noticed Jiang Li among the temple’s orphans. Though only seven, she tirelessly dispensed medicine and showed remarkable talent. Moved, Yu Qingling decided to take her as a disciple. Later, she brought Jiang Li back to Chang’an, and her very first lesson was on the difficulties women faced in seeking medical care.
“Miss, we’re here!” Huai Xi’s soft cry broke Jiang Li’s reverie. Lifting the curtain, she saw the carriage had entered a desolate area south of the city. Not far away, snow-covered pines and cypresses half-concealed a dilapidated courtyard—the southern mortuary.
When the carriage halted, Pei Yan and Fu Yunheng were already waiting at the gate. Four mortuary guards and two officers from the Court of Judicial Review stood nearby. As the carriage door opened and a beautiful young woman with jade-like skin stepped down, the men were visibly startled.
Fu Yunheng spoke with concern: “Miss Xue, are you certain? You still have a chance to turn back. This is no ordinary medical consultation…”
Jiang Li gave a faint laugh. “Please, Lord, lead the way.”
Pei Yan shook his head slightly, then turned and entered first. Jiang Li lifted her steps to follow, while Fu Yunheng, walking at her side, probed cautiously: “Miss Xue, the dead you’ve seen before were mostly those who died of illness, weren’t they?”
The mortuary was old, its courtyard snow trampled into muddy slush by many feet. Jiang Li walked slowly. “In the jianghu, there are many killings and poisonings. This past summer, during the floods in Xuzhou, I went to aid the victims and saw corpses piled high from the plague. You may rest assured.”
Fu Yunheng blinked. “Oh, I heard of that. It was during the disaster relief that my uncle found you.”
Just then, the mortuary guard Ge Yang, walking ahead, said: “Lord Pei, Coroner Song and his men left not long ago. They thought you wouldn’t come today. The identity of Miss Qian has been confirmed beyond doubt.”
Speaking as he led the way, Ge Yang turned left from the main hall, passed through a corridor, and arrived at a side chamber with doors and windows tightly shut. He drew out a key and unlocked it. “The remains of the young ladies are still kept here—”
As the door opened, a wave of cold, fetid stench rushed out. Inside, seven or eight wooden beds were arranged, five of them covered with straw mats and blankets. Before each bed lay offerings of incense, candles, melons, and fruit. Jiang Li handed her cloak to Huai Xi and stepped in after Pei Yan.
Fu Yunheng covered his nose and mouth, entering reluctantly with a look of distaste. Ge Yang chuckled: “You still not used to it? It’s far better now than in summer.”
The deeper they went, the sharper the stench grew. Yet winter’s chill slowed decay, making it barely tolerable. Pei Yan also shed his cloak, passed it to Jiu Si, and then lifted the nearest straw mat in one motion—
At the sight upon the board, Huai Xi could not suppress a retch.
Jiang Li’s brows knit; she steadied herself before stepping closer.
On the long wooden plank lay a corpse mottled in green, purple, red, and white. To call it a corpse was generous—it was a body pieced together from dozens of fragments. With much of the upper torso missing and the flesh rotting, the sight was especially ghastly. At the head of the board rested a woman’s skull, her face half-decayed, laid chillingly upon several talismans drawn in cinnabar.
At that moment, an officer named Lu Zhuo spoke: “My lord, Miss Qian’s head was found in the Guanghui Canal east of the city. It snowed again last night, and this morning two children discovered it frozen in the canal’s waters.”
Huai Xi shivered at the words. Lu Zhuo continued: “Her lower body was found in a dark alley not far from the Guanghui Canal. There’s an abandoned warehouse there, where locals often dump refuse they cannot dispose of. Early this morning, a beggar scavenging for scraps discovered a bundle of rags—inside were pieces of the corpse…”
The “lower body” he spoke of was the section from the abdomen to the thighs, split in two. The bluish-purple flesh had frozen stiff, while rotting viscera had congealed into a foul red-black mass. At a glance, the wooden board resembled a butcher’s block at market—except every piece of meat was human flesh and organs.
Suppressing the urge to retch, Jiang Li said evenly: “Huai Xi, the gloves.”
Grinding her teeth, Huai Xi rummaged through the medicine chest, then hurriedly handed over a pair before turning her head away, unable to look.
Jiang Li pulled on the gloves, rolled up her sleeves, and first approached Qian Gantang’s severed head. Circling halfway around, she bent to examine the mottled, vein-swollen face and neck…
Pei Yan, standing opposite, spoke: “The killer used blades and axes to dismember with crude violence. The first two victims’ corpses were so decayed that, apart from a few bruises, even the cause of death and the weapon were hard to determine. It wasn’t until the third victim, Zheng Ran, was found that we had clarity. Her remains were dumped in the wild outside the city—her head and upper body left by a mud pit. Those days, the autumn sun was fierce, the mud dried quickly, and the corpse fragments shriveled, but the wounds remained intact enough to study.”
“Unlike the dismemberment cuts, the wound on her left chest was narrow and inflicted while she was alive. That confirmed the weapon was a short single-edged blade. Re-examining the first two victims, similar chest wounds were found. Later, the fourth victim, Wu Ruohan, though discovered in a sewage canal, had preserved upper-body wounds in the early winter cold—again, the same kind of cut.”
As Pei Yan recounted, Jiang Li had already begun examining the victim’s lower abdomen and limbs. His gaze lingered briefly on her composed, solemn expression before he added: “Moreover, on the necks of Zheng Ran, Wu Ruohan, and Qian Gantang, similar bruises were found. And near the places where Wang Yan, Kang Yun, and Wu Ruohan disappeared, traces of narcotics were discovered—the very substances you mentioned: *fengqie* and *naoyanghua*.”
Because Lu Zhuo and the others were present, Pei Yan did not mention Fu Yunci. At that moment, Jiang Li straightened and looked toward another wooden bed behind her. Seeing this, Pei Yan stepped forward, lifting the straw mat and blanket before she could.
Both coverings reeked with age, their stench foul. Pei Yan wore no gloves, yet seemed unconcerned. Jiang Li glanced at him instinctively, a strange unease rising in her heart—for once, Pei Yan had been known for his fastidious cleanliness.
Catching her look, Pei Yan said gently: “This is the fourth victim, Wu Ruohan.”
Jiang Li withdrew her gaze, steadied herself, and examined the corpse.
Wu Ruohan’s remains, like Qian Gantang’s, had been pieced together. The decay was even worse—her head, face, shoulders, and chest nearly stripped of flesh, her organs rotted into clumps. On closer inspection, white maggots were frozen in place. Suddenly, Jiang Li’s eyes fell upon the lower abdomen. She bent to inspect briefly, then moved to the next wooden board. Pei Yan followed, uncovering the corpse cloth, and without pause revealed the last two bodies as well.
As Pei Yan had said, the remains of the first victim, Wang Yan, and the second, Kang Yun, were no longer recognizable as human. From head to toe, the fragments could scarcely be pieced together. Many parts had rotted down to bone, with not a patch of intact skin left. The chest and lower abdomen were especially decayed—the organs reduced to scraps, leaving only bits of flesh clinging to the skeleton.
Jiang Li felt a sourness rise in her stomach. “In such a state, how was the identity confirmed?”
Pei Yan replied: “The killer discards the victims’ ornaments along with the body, sometimes even wrapping the fragments in their clothing. That makes recognition easier. In addition, the coroner examined the bones for stature, and the families confirmed identifying marks. There is no mistake.”
Jiang Li nodded, focusing her inspection on the third corpse.
Zheng Ran’s remains were also incomplete; much of the flesh had decayed. Seeing her lips pressed tight, Pei Yan spoke gently: “Wounds on the flesh can be examined, but whether the victim was violated before death is difficult to determine. You are a physician—you need not force yourself…”
Without lifting her head, Jiang Li asked: “How does the court judge it?”
Pei Yan answered: “At present, we lean toward believing the victims were assaulted. His choice of targets, and the way he dismembers and waits for the corpses to rot before discarding them—all of this seems meant to conceal such acts.”
Jiang Li fell silent for a moment, then straightened, her expression grave as she surveyed the bodies. Before long, her brows drew tighter. “My view may differ from the yamen’s.”
Pei Yan looked doubtful. “Why do you say so?”
Though she spoke with hesitation, her tone was firm after a pause: “The first two victims leave little to examine. But among the later three, Wu Ruohan’s lower body is relatively intact. Though the genital area is decayed, I examined it closely—there are no bruises or abrasions that would follow an assault.”
Jiang Li stood tall, speaking with composure. Her words made Fu Yunheng and the others widen their eyes; Huai Xi blinked and coughed lightly before regaining her composure.
Jiang Li turned to Pei Yan, expecting even this upright gentleman to show some embarrassment. Yet he remained calm, his voice steady: “If the killer used narcotics first, perhaps the victims did not struggle?”
Jiang Li shook her head: “If one motive were assault, then whether or not the victims resisted, he would hardly spare them. Yet in Zheng Ran and the other later victims, though they bear many bruises and scrapes, there are no extra finger marks on thighs, waist, hips, chest, arms, or neck. Their limbs are mostly intact. Only Zheng Ran shows possible finger marks near the collarbone and chest—but that alone is insufficient proof of violation.”
The men present were all seasoned, and though Jiang Li spoke delicately, they understood at once. If the killer had assaulted them, it would be impossible not to leave ambiguous traces—especially given his cruelty and apparent desire for vengeance. To find so few marks was, indeed, profoundly strange.
Pei Yan’s gaze grew more solemn. Fu Yunheng scratched his head and said: “If the killer did not assault them, then it was purely revenge and rage? If he were a man spurned in love, and his method of revenge was dismemberment alone, then he would be both ruthless and coldly rational. But… but I… I don’t mean to say…”
The word *“sister”* was hard to utter, yet Jiang Li recalled Fu Yunci’s account and also found it strange. The killer had shown her slight humiliation, but if a man stopped only at that, then…
Jiang Li frowned. “Could it be that the killer is impotent?”
Fu Yunheng’s eyes widened, unused to hearing such words spoken so lightly by a young woman.
Pei Yan, however, remained composed, though a trace of helplessness flickered in his eyes. “It is possible. Or the killer may have other motives. For now, the evidence is too scarce to draw conclusions.”
At this, Jiang Li turned again to study the mutilated corpses. Just then, voices drifted in from the courtyard outside. A moment later, a mortuary guard entered. “Lord Pei, someone from the Wang family has arrived!”
Pei Yan’s eyes narrowed as he stepped out. After two paces, he said to Ge Yang: “Bring water for Miss Xue.”
Ge Yang blinked, then quickly obeyed. Soon, he returned with hot water from the side room. Jiang Li stepped forward to wash her gloves. Emerging from the corridor, she saw a tall, thin man of about twenty-four or twenty-five, speaking to Pei Yan with a face full of resentment.
“That Assistant Minister He was slow in his duties, but Lord Pei, you have taken over this case for two months now, and still the killer has not been caught. My sister’s body has lain here for five months. I truly do not know what the yamen is doing…”
Fu Yunheng tried to soothe him: “Master Wang, the Court of Judicial Review and the Right Guard have been investigating all along. You must know about the unrest in the city these days. But the killer is exceedingly cunning. Please give us more time.”
This man was Wang Gan, the elder brother of the victim Wang Yan. His face was heavy with grief. Thinking of his sister’s body lying here, he glanced toward the corridor—and there he caught sight of Jiang Li. Startled, he immediately said: “Lord Pei, all Chang’an praises you as upright, a man of integrity untouched by women, a model of the court. Yet you… you bring a lady with you to investigate?”
Fu Yunheng looked at Jiang Li, then at Pei Yan, and quickly interjected: “Ah, no, it has nothing to do with Lord Pei. It was I—I invited Miss Xue to help. You may not know, but this young lady is the eldest daughter of Minister Xue’s household, and in the jianghu she is famed as the Divine Physician, the Magnolia Hand. I asked her to see if the coroner overlooked anything.”
Wang Gan was taken aback. “The Magnolia Hand…”
Fu Yunheng thought he had salvaged Pei Yan’s reputation, but Pei Yan, ever serious, said: “Miss Xue is compassionate. Knowing the victims were all women, she volunteered to assist. Master Wang, I understand your urgency. The Court has devoted all its manpower to this case. Soon, you will have an answer.”
Fu Yunheng gave a faint hiss—did he really have to distinguish between *‘invited’* and *‘volunteered’* so precisely?
Wang Gan sighed bitterly: “Lord Pei, forgive my offense. But after my sister’s murder, my mother fell ill, and my father’s hair turned white overnight. Now her case is known throughout the city, and even our business at the estate suffers. A good family ruined. We wait every day to avenge her…”
Pei Yan nodded. “I understand. Once there is news, the yamen will inform you. Today you have come to pay respects—please, go inside.”
Wang Gan had brought many offerings. Normally, entry to the chamber of the dead was not permitted, but since Pei Yan gave leave, his face eased slightly. He offered thanks and went down the corridor with two attendants.
Jiang Li watched him go, struggling to imagine the pain of kin beholding such remains. Beside her, Ge Yang sighed: “Master Wang truly cherishes his sister. He comes to pay respects once every ten days.”
At that moment, Pei Yan gave Lu Zhuo a few instructions, then walked toward Jiang Li. “Miss Xue—”
She said quietly: “Lord Pei and Lord Fu surely still have official duties. I will return to my residence on my own, and tomorrow I shall come again to examine Miss Fu.”
Jiang Li was considerate, but Pei Yan’s gaze dropped slightly. “Your hand…”
Jiang Li shook her head. “It’s nothing. I am a physician.”
Pei Yan seemed about to speak further, but held back. Fu Yunheng stepped forward instead: “We’ve troubled you far too much today. Without you, we’d have been at a loss. The rest, Lord Pei and I will investigate. You’ve been injured—please return home and rest.”
Jiang Li agreed. Draping her cloak over her shoulders, she took her leave of the mortuary.
Once inside the Xue family carriage, Huai Xi looked at her hand with concern. “Miss, how long has it been since you were hurt? You may not say it, but I know you fear pain. Whenever you suffer, you press your lips tightly together…”
Jiang Li glanced at the wound. “Saving Ah Ci was worth it.”
At the mention of Fu Yunci, Jiang Li recalled her words. The killer’s actions clearly hinted at lust, yet after examining the victims’ remains, Jiang Li truly did not believe he had committed a violation. A dull ache rose in her head. She leaned against the carriage wall to rest.
By the time the carriage stopped at the Xue residence, half an hour had passed. Entering the gate, Jiang Li saw Jixiang waiting. She hurried forward: “Miss, your aunt and cousin have arrived. They’re waiting in the front hall.”
Jiang Li’s eyes lit up. “Aunt and cousin are here!” She quickened her pace toward the front hall. After only a few steps, she noticed two maids ahead, each carrying bolts of brocade.
One laughed: “This is the famed *Tianyun Bi*. Touch it—it’s as soft and smooth as a woman’s skin. Made into sleepwear, it would feel like wearing nothing at all…”
The other replied: “Careful not to spoil it. These bolts are for Third Miss’s gown at the Princess’s banquet. She had people run to the Jinyun Silk Shop three times, and only after much effort snatched them from several madams…”
Jiang Li paused, her gaze sharpening. She asked Ji Xiang: “Jinyun Silk Shop—there’s only one in all of Chang’an, isn’t there?”