The corpse came from the execution platform—the place in the palace where criminals were put to death. A body from there had to be “cleanly” dealt with. Just thinking about it made the matter far from simple.
Qiao’er pushed the door open behind her, pointing at Jing Wan’er: “Freak! What trick did you use? Madam Liang actually ordered me to help you handle a corpse. You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t…”
The fear in her voice at the end betrayed her thoughts. Clearly, she remembered Jing Wan’er’s words from last night: if Jing Wan’er ever left the menial servants’ quarters, someone else would have to take her place in handling corpses.
Jing Wan’er turned slowly, saw Qiao’er’s pale face, and did not bother to explain. Her lips curved: “Madam Liang gave the order. How would I know the reason? If you’re worried, why not ask her directly?”
Qiao’er shivered. Who would dare question Madam Liang to her face? Jing Wan’er was mocking her.
“You’d better prepare yourself,” Jing Wan’er reminded her. “Madam Liang said it must be done quickly. The sun is already up. The hotter it gets, the stronger the stench. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Qiao’er’s face grew even paler. She hadn’t even seen the corpse yet, and she was already terrified. Suddenly, her eyes reddened; she covered her mouth and fled.
Jing Wan’er shook her head. If Qiao’er couldn’t handle even this, she was hopeless. She herself needed to prepare. Madam Liang had said the body was already delivered—that meant it was in the firewood shed.
Only Jing Wan’er and Madam Liang’s attendants had the key. When she reached the shed, she saw the lock had been tampered with. The body was inside.
Opening the door, she smelled pine resin. She was surprised. The straw mat had been re-rolled and tied neatly with rope. Inside, she could faintly see limbs and a torso—but the place where a head should have been was empty. Her heart tightened. She understood. This was a beheaded corpse. She stepped closer. Perhaps because of the resin, there was no smell yet. Or perhaps the body was fresh, not yet decayed.
For the first time, Jing Wan’er felt a chill in the unseen corners around her. After a moment’s inspection, she withdrew. She needed her maid’s uniform and waist token; she couldn’t simply drag a corpse out of the palace gates.
When she returned, she found Qiao’er wrapped head to toe in heavy cloaks, her face covered with three layers of veils. Clearly, she feared any stench or filth might touch her. But dressed like that, she couldn’t even use her hands—how could she move a body?
Jing Wan’er glanced at her, then looked away coldly. Her disdain enraged Qiao’er. “Jing Wan’er, how dare you look down on me!”
A lowly corpse-handler, daring to despise her?
Jing Wan’er ignored the quarrel. She pulled out her tools from under the bed: a maid’s uniform and the waist token folded on top. Turning, she said evenly: “Later, just stand aside and watch. Don’t touch anything.”
Especially since Madam Liang had ordered it to be “clean.” If Qiao’er interfered, she might ruin everything.
Qiao’er blinked, stunned. Was Jing Wan’er being kind? Not letting her touch the corpse? “You… you mean it?” she stammered.
Jing Wan’er’s lips curled. “Would you dare touch it?”
Normally, Qiao’er would fight her to the bitter end. But this time, she was truly terrified. If Jing Wan’er didn’t want her to touch the corpse, she was more than happy to comply.
Jing Wan’er ignored her further, picked up her things, and walked out. “To the shed.”
Qiao’er shrank back. “W-why go there?”
Jing Wan’er shot her a look. “The corpse is there. Why else?”
Qiao’er trembled but followed. Jing Wan’er unlocked the shed. Inside lay the straw mat, heavy with bones. One glance told Qiao’er the body was headless. Her limbs went weak; she nearly fainted. Only Jing Wan’er had ever seen so many corpses with her own eyes. She tugged the rope binding the mat. Heavy—heavier than usual. She wound the rope around her arm and began dragging the mat out.
Qiao’er screamed and backed far away, staring in disbelief. To her, Jing Wan’er was a true freak—unflinching before death. Didn’t she fear vengeful spirits at night? Yet every night, Jing Wan’er slept more soundly than anyone else.
Jing Wan’er glanced at her. “What are you waiting for? Come help.”
Qiao’er stammered: “You—you said I wouldn’t have to touch it!”
Jing Wan’er’s eyes pinned her. “I said you wouldn’t touch the corpse. But if you won’t even pull the rope, don’t blame me when I tell Madam Liang.”
Did Qiao’er really think she could just stand aside?
Finally, Qiao’er realized she had no choice. Tears welled as she bit her lip and edged closer.
Jing Wan’er handed her the rope. “You take the front.”
That way, Jing Wan’er herself stood between Qiao’er and the corpse.
Qiao’er clenched her teeth and gripped the rope. It was warm from Jing Wan’er’s hand. She forced herself not to drop it.
Together, they dragged the body to Wenchang Gate.
The guards saw Jing Wan’er again and scowled. She held up her waist token. “Gentlemen, do you need to open the mat?” she asked deliberately.
If they insisted, it wouldn’t be her fault. But the guards waved irritably. “No need. Bad luck.” Anyone could see it was a headless corpse.
Jing Wan’er smiled faintly. “Much obliged.”
Qiao’er stood stiff as wood, unmoving.
Jing Wan’er picked up the rope again, ready to leave. But the guards frowned. “Wait. There are two of you. Where’s the other one’s waist token?”
A corpse might pass unchecked, but a living maid could not leave without proof of identity.
Jing Wan’er froze, looking at Qiao’er.
Qiao’er panicked, fumbling at her body. “I—I forgot my token.”
Forgot? Jing Wan’er’s head throbbed. Anything else could be forgotten, but not the waist token. For palace maids, it was their identity. Without it, leaving the palace was impossible.
The guards’ faces hardened. “No waist token, no exit. Otherwise, you’ll be treated as an escaped slave.”
An escaped slave—that was a death sentence. Qiao’er trembled violently.
Jing Wan’er sighed inwardly. The sun was already high. If she dragged the corpse back now, it would waste hours.
Qiao’er’s face was white with panic.
Jing Wan’er made a quick decision. “You stay here. I’ll take the corpse out and deal with it. Then I’ll return, and we’ll report back together.”
Madam Liang had ordered that the two of them must act together. If either were left alone, the other would suffer for it.
Unexpectedly, Qiao’er’s face turned pale, and she immediately said, “No! Madam Liang commanded me not to leave your side for even a step!”
So it was true—Qiao’er’s role was to watch her. Jing Wan’er glanced at her, but the situation had already cornered them. The palace gate guards only recognized waist tokens, not faces. Even though Jing Wan’er’s face had appeared at the gate countless times, without her token, she would never be allowed to leave.
Jing Wan’er looked at Qiao’er and said: “There is another way. You take the corpse out of the palace, make sure it is properly disposed of before your eyes, and I’ll stay here.”
Since Madam Liang didn’t trust Jing Wan’er, she had sent Qiao’er along. If Qiao’er herself handled the body, then it would no longer concern Jing Wan’er. But how could Qiao’er ever dare?
Her face went deathly white. “Isn’t there any other way? I—I can’t handle corpses.”
Jing Wan’er said nothing, only stared at her.
The two gate guards grew impatient, frowning: “If you’re not leaving, then drag that body away from here. Don’t leave it in sight!”
No one wanted to keep staring at a corpse.
Jing Wan’er fixed her eyes on Qiao’er. The last straw broke her. “Y-you hurry and finish it, then come back. I’ll wait here. You mustn’t tell Madam Liang!”
Jing Wan’er gave a mocking smile. “Tell Madam Liang? Do you think I’m not afraid of death?”
Whether Qiao’er stayed behind or Jing Wan’er did, either way, one of them would be alone with the corpse. That already violated Madam Liang’s orders. If it came out, neither of them would escape punishment.
Jing Wan’er no longer hesitated. She wound the rope around her arm, summoned all her strength, and began dragging the mat toward the palace gate. It was unbearably heavy.
The palace city was vast. At its center lay splendor and luxury, a paradise on earth. Yet within such grandeur were many neglected corners. The servants’ quarters were tucked away in the most remote corner, closest to Xuanwu Gate.
Beyond Xuanwu Gate lay the foul-smelling mass graves. The guards stationed there wore perpetual scowls—being sent to Xuanwu Gate was as degrading as maids being assigned to the corpse-handling quarters.
No one could die within the palace walls. Just beyond them, the graves became the resting place for the dead.
Dragging the mat, Jing Wan’er finally reached the mounds of earth before her. She released the rope and sat on a stone, catching her breath. Then she pulled out the flask of lamp oil from her pocket. She had burned bodies before, but never one like this. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the straw mat. Why would a corpse already beheaded still need to be burned to ash?
She thought of erasing all traces.
After resting, she rose, clutching the oil, and circled the mat twice. Under the blazing sun, once the oil was poured, the fire would catch easily and consume everything quickly. Whoever had sent this body had timed it perfectly.
Jing Wan’er crouched down, slowly reaching her hand toward the mat.