"Hand me the scissors."
Li Yan was lost in thought when Shen Hanzhou's words pulled her back.
His gaze was cool and detached as he looked at Li Yan. Seeing her lack of response, he repeated, "If you please, Miss, could you fetch me a large pair of scissors? My hands are covered in blood, and it's inconvenient."
Li Yan instinctively glanced at his hands and immediately regretted it, feeling her stomach churn violently.
She quickly suppressed the urge, fished out a large pair from the box, slapped it onto the small table beside him, then rushed out of the mortuary. Leaning against a tree in the courtyard, she joined the two constables in their retching.
After finishing, she looked up at Shen Hanzhou's profile—still calm and indifferent.
He was completely focused, channeling all his attention into his hands, as if shutting out everything around him.
"This new accountant at the estate is truly extraordinary," the constable said, grimacing, his tone tinged with admiration. "He doesn't even bat an eye. Even the coroner we hired at the yamen doesn't have this kind of composure. Where did you find him?"
Li Yan forced a dry laugh. "…I picked him up on the road."
Though the constable looked utterly bewildered, she wasn't lying.
The three of them stood at the entrance of the mortuary, craning their necks. A chilling aura emanated from within, and none of them wanted to take another step forward.
"When was the body discovered, sirs?" Li Yan asked, shifting her gaze away.
"At three-quarters past the hour of the Rooster," the constable waved a hand. "I'll never forget it for the rest of my life."
The sun was setting, and though it wasn't late, the murderer dared to dump the body from the rooftop. The culprit was indeed audacious and unconventional.
But Shen Hanzhou had also said he was a novice, unprofessional.
It seemed contradictory.
"A friend who frequently kills might calmly stand on the eaves to dispose of a body, but a novice…" She glanced toward the mortuary. "Most people are terrified the first time they kill, desperate to flee the scene immediately. Why did he wait until this time and dump the body in front of the common folk? Was there a reason he had no choice but to do so?"
"Who knows? But what you're saying is exactly what our Lord Lin mentioned before he left."
"Left?" Li Yan's voice rose a notch. "Where did he go? Trying to avoid giving me the wine by hiding out?"
"Misunderstanding," the constable quickly shook his head. "The Duchayuan's Jingcha official from the imperial court is expected to arrive in Qingzhou in the next couple of days. Our lord has gone to the courier station to await him."
So that was it. No wonder they had come to her.
The Duchayuan conducted routine inspections of officials across the realm, assessing their performance. The capable were promoted, while the incompetent were dismissed on the spot.
If the official arrived in Qingzhoucheng and learned of such a heinous case, with the entire prefectural yamen having made no progress or uncovered a single clue in ten days, it would indeed be necessary to dismiss a few people as a warning to others.
"Nor is it entirely without clues," Shen Hanzhou spoke up leisurely at that moment.
After burying himself in the mortuary for two quarters of an hour, he covered the body with hemp cloth, returned the tools to their places, washed his hands clean, and lit three sticks of incense for the young woman.
"There are binding marks on her wrists and ankles, and her upper body is covered in purple welts from thin lashes. Those marks are significant—they're not ordinary."
Having said this, he lifted the hem of his robe and walked out of the mortuary.
His white robes were like snow, embroidered with clusters of red plum blossoms. His gaze swept coolly over the group.
His eyes settled on Li Yan. After lowering his gaze in thought for a moment, he spoke again. "Those marks are extremely uncommon. They look as if they were made by three strands of colored rope braided together."
A braided whip made of three colored ropes?
Li Yan's deep eyes suddenly turned cold.
Shen Hanzhou spoke very subtly, each word reminding her.
Originally, even if the case at the Fuya had blown up to the heavens, it wouldn’t have had much to do with Li Yan, and she didn’t need to be overly concerned.
But now the situation was different. A braided whip made of three colored ropes was a very special item. In all of Qingzhou, only Feilong Shanzhuang knew how to weave it, and it was a pre-order item, sold only at high prices to those with considerable status among bandits—a symbol of identity.
Currently, in Qingzhou, including Li Yan, there were at most five people who owned such a whip.
She looked at Shen Hanzhou with a complicated gaze, momentarily speechless.
She came to help investigate a case, and in the blink of an eye, she found herself within the range of suspects?
But Shen Hanzhou didn’t respond and continued, “The marks from the whip also appeared on the neck. Because the murderer took the head away, and the method was extremely clumsy, large areas of the strangulation marks were destroyed. I pieced it together for a long time.” Shen Hanzhou raised his hand and pointed at his own neck. “The incision wound on the neck had obvious serrated marks, the result of gripping the knife handle and applying force multiple times.”
“Additionally, the skin on the back of the neck was turned outward, indicating that the victim was still alive when the knife was used.” After saying this, Shen Hanzhou withdrew his hands from behind his back.
“As for the weapon used for dismemberment…”
He held a small black knife in his hand.
“Judging from the distance of just over two inches from the tip of the knife to the skin…” He unsheathed the knife. “The weapon that best matches the knife marks is this—a scholar’s knife, used only by scholars.”
“A scholar’s knife?” Li Yan frowned.
Scholar’s knives were mostly used for cutting paper or opening letters, so the blade could be made less sharp to prevent accidental injury.
For the murderer to use it for such a purpose was truly cruel.
First, the victim was abducted, bound, and tortured. Then, she was strangled unconscious with the braided whip. Before she had even died, the murderer attempted to remove her head. Every step was aimed at ensuring her death. How much hatred and madness must have driven such actions?
“It’s been over ten days of investigation. If there are no leads on the murderer’s side, has anything been found regarding the victim?” Li Yan looked at the constable.
As expected, the two constables’ eyes reflected clear confusion as they shook their heads.
Li Yan felt a tightness in her forehead, personally experiencing the lackluster quality of this generation of constables at the Qingzhou Fuya.
She raised her head and looked back at Shen Hanzhou on the stone steps.
For some reason, she felt that if it were him, he would surely find a breakthrough.
The moment she fixed her gaze on him, Shen Hanzhou’s expression faltered slightly. A hint of discomfort flickered between his brows, and his gaze drifted to the side before he spoke: “There is.”
He sheathed the scholar’s knife, his slender fingers pointing to a spot an inch below his shoulder blade. “Here, there is a very distinct brand.”
“A brand?” Li Yan didn’t notice his discomfort, her eyes fixed only on his fingertips.
Shen Hanzhou was a scholar, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. The collar of his robe faintly revealed the curve of his collarbone.
Though thin, it had to be said—he was handsome, pleasing to the eye, and she enjoyed looking at him.
“I made a rubbing of it. It’s not old, likely branded last year.” Shen Hanzhou took out a piece of paper from his robe and waved it in front of her under her straightforward gaze.
Li Yan felt dizzy from his waving and snatched the paper, shooting him a glare.
“If the Manor Lord finds it hard to believe, you can go inside and lift the cloth to take another look yourself.”
Hearing this, she couldn’t help but recall the scene from earlier and immediately felt nauseous again.
"No." As she looked up, she happened to catch a hint of smugness at the corner of Shen Hanzhou's lips—clearly intentional.
How impressive!
"You've already made a rubbing of it. How could I possibly disregard the kindness of our considerate Accountant Shen?"
She snorted, shaking the paper open with a flick. A stark black-and-white imprint appeared on the page.
"This isn't just a simple branding iron mark—it's a Moyin," Shen Hanzhou said, amusement in his voice as he saw her frustration, sounding quite pleased.
Li Yan had no time to berate him, her thoughts entirely focused on the two words: Moyin.
In Dajin, there were three types of branding: one to prevent slaves from escaping, another to deter deserting soldiers, and a third—a form of punishment.
Moyin fell into the third category. It involved scarring the skin, applying ink to inscribe characters, leaving permanent marks that would never fade after the wounds healed.
It was one of the ancient five punishments, reserved only for those who committed serious crimes.
Shen Hanzhou clasped his hands behind his back and said softly, "The girl is an innocent woman, untouched. Yet she bears a Moyin on her chest—truly baffling."
In other words, she had once been imprisoned for violating the Dajin Luling.
"What could a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old girl have done to break the law and receive Moxing?"
Li Yan lowered her head, studying the paper for a long time. The imprint looked like the character for "qing" (blue/green), yet also resembled "chun" (spring).
"It's 'bao' (暴), as in violence," the constable interjected, pointing to the outer border of the rubbing. "And this oval frame—it's a pattern only used in county jail cells."