Qi Xun reacted swiftly. “Could it be that you suspect Lord Yu’s death was caused by spirits or demons?”
Liu Yishan glanced at the two of them and instinctively lowered his voice. “You are not locals, so you may not know—there is a very efficacious Guanyin Temple here. Five years ago, it was struck by lightning and even caught fire. But ever since then, the temple has become strangely effective: those who prayed for children received them, those who prayed for blessings found fortune. Moreover, within ten li of this place, anyone who committed evil was said to be cursed and punished by Guanyin Bodhisattva—some merely injured, others died tragically. Even in our post station, whenever someone made a small mistake, accidents would occur.”
Song Huaijin and Qi Xun exchanged a glance.
Qi Xun couldn’t help but ask, “So, Post Master Liu, are you implying that Lord Yu committed some evil deed?”
Liu Yishan quickly waved his hands. “No, no, how could I dare say such a thing? Lord Yu died miserably in his own quarters, and no explanation seems possible. During these past few days, my men and I have been terrified, so we set up offerings here.”
Whenever something defies explanation, common folk always attribute it to Heaven or spirits—it is hardly surprising.
Song Huaijin sighed. “Post Master Liu, our dynasty is governed by Confucian principles, not by talk of ghosts and monsters. You are an official of the court—how can you believe in such superstitions? The deceased is Yu Ming. Before leaving the capital, I visited the Ministry of Personnel once; Yu Ming had an excellent reputation, and his annual evaluations were always outstanding. From where would his evil come?”
Yu Ming’s corpse lay in the east wing. Hearing this, Liu Yishan grew even more frightened and hurried to explain: “Please forgive me, my lord. I have lived in this rural place too long and grown superstitious. Truly, I was only frightened.”
“Ghosts and spirits are best kept at a respectful distance. I have investigated many cases, and though I’ve seen plenty of so-called supernatural happenings, in the end, they were always villains pretending to be gods and ghosts.” Song Huaijin did not press further. “Enough—let us get to the proper business.”
Liu Yishan wiped the thin sweat from his forehead. “Yes, my lord, I will take you there at once.”
The two men left one after the other.
Qi Xun shook her head with a sigh. Ordinary people fear ghosts and spirits, yet they do not realize that, sometimes, the human heart is more terrifying than any phantom. And the murderer’s cruelty—was it born of hatred, or something else entirely?
For a coroner, every crucial clue lies upon the body. The living may lie, but the dead never falsify what they wish to tell the world. She brought a long case table into the main hall, laid out the severed limbs upon it, and began her examination. At her side, a young clerk named Zhou Wei carefully recorded her findings.
…
Liu Yishan and Song Huaijin headed north, but had scarcely gone far before they ran into a group of men.
At the front was Zhu Yun, the judicial officer Song Huaijin had dispatched. Behind him trailed several men in fine robes. Liu Yishan whispered, “My lord, that is Vice Minister Qi of the Ministry of Works, and his companions!”
Zhu Yun had been questioning the station officials about any past ties to Yu Ming, so, naturally, word had spread that the Court of Judicial Review had arrived.
Song Huaijin gave a short laugh. “They came quickly enough!” With that, he drew a smile across his face and stepped forward.
“Lord Qi, it has been a long time!”
As a deputy minister of the Court of Judicial Review, he often dealt with capital officials and had crossed paths with Qi Ran before. The others he did not know, but thanks to Xie Nanke’s earlier briefing, a single glance told him who they were.
Qi Ran, now in his thirties, was refined and scholarly, firmly seated as Vice Minister of Works. His words carried confidence. After the greetings, he warmly introduced the others, then said: “In September, I was ordered north to inspect the Longjiang embankment. Now I return to report, only to stumble upon this calamity. How goes your investigation? We have waited here four days already, eager to return to the capital. How many days, Deputy Minister Song, until the truth is clear?”
“We only just arrived. The coroner is still examining the body, and no useful clues have yet surfaced. I have already sent men to question the station clerks and all who came and went.” Song Huaijin paused in thought. “When the truth will be uncovered, I cannot yet say. But it is not yet the fifteenth—so I must ask you gentlemen to remain a few more days, to help me find the murderer of Lord Yu.”
His tone was genial, but his words made plain he would not let them depart. Present were not only Qi Ran, Vice Minister of Works, but also two prefects of the third rank, a general of the fourth rank, and a palace eunuch from the Directorate of the Imperial Household—none to be underestimated. Though they respected the Court of Judicial Review, Song Huaijin was but a fourth‑rank deputy minister, born of humble stock; none truly feared him.
General Xin Yuanshou of the Zhongwu Army spoke bluntly: “Deputy Minister Song, do you take us for suspects?”
Song Huaijin smiled easily. “How could I dare? But Lord Yu’s death was far too strange. News of it has already reached the capital, shocking the court. His Majesty is furious. If I fail in this mission, the entire Court of Judicial Review will suffer for my incompetence.”
Invoking the emperor’s wrath at least gave them pause. Qi Ran, seeing the tension, quickly smoothed things over. “We understand. We are colleagues in service of the court; we know each other’s difficulties. And since it is you who came, I am reassured.” He turned to Zhu Yun. “Your officer questioned us about our whereabouts on the Laba Festival. We all cooperated fully.”
Song Huaijin looked to Zhu Yun, who stepped forward. “My lord, these gentlemen had only one or two brief dealings with Lord Yu before, not close. Eunuch Tian met him for the first time. But on the Laba Festival, Eunuch Tian alone lacked sufficient witnesses.”
“Prefects Wu and Liu spent the day playing chess, and can vouch for each other. Lord Qi and General Xin lodged opposite one another, and can likewise testify. Eunuch Tian has only the station servant who delivered meals, who saw him in his room at noon and again at dusk.”
At this, Tian Wanchun, standing at the rear, spoke sharply: “I am blamed only because my quarters are remote and no one saw me. Surely I am not the only one in this station without witnesses? Do all clerks and servants have someone to testify for them at every moment?”
His voice was shrill, edged with sarcasm. “I have waited here four days. If I were guilty, I would have fled long ago. I care not for the others, but tomorrow the palace requires furs to be presented before year’s end. If I delay, the Empress Dowager and the consorts will not forgive me. The morning after tomorrow, I must depart.”
Tian Wanchun was small and frail, clearly no man of arms. And indeed, as he said, he was not the only one lacking witnesses.
“Rest assured, Eunuch. Whether you or anyone else, once cleared of suspicion in Lord Yu’s murder, you may leave the station. The Court of Judicial Review will not hinder you.” Song Huaijin’s eyes then turned suddenly to General Xin. “General, what weapon do you carry for protection on this journey back to the capital?”
Xin Yuanshou looked puzzled. “To avoid drawing attention, we carry only short swords.” He lifted his robe, revealing a blade about a foot long at his waist.
The short sword did not match Qi Xun’s analysis, so Song Huaijin temporarily set aside his suspicion of Xin Yuanshou. After a brief hesitation, he suddenly thought to probe further and explained: “The coroner’s examination just now revealed that the blade used to dismember Lord Yu’s body resembled a *mo dao*—a type of military sword.”
A flicker of surprise crossed the faces of the men, though only faintly.
Xin Yuanshou spoke up: “A *mo dao*? That weapon belongs to the Northern Frontier Army. Our garrison in Suzhou rarely uses them.”
At this, Qi Ran seemed to recall something. “The Northern Frontier Army? Isn’t there someone here at the station from that very army?” He turned to the others. “I mentioned it before—on the day I entered the station, I went to visit a colleague, but there was one man barred at the gate whom I never saw. That man was said to be from the Northern Frontier Army.”
The others appeared already aware of this matter, and suspicion lit their eyes. Qi Ran continued: “Not only that—the pass he used bore the commander’s seal of the Northern Frontier Army, yet he never reported his name to the registrar. He was carried inside upon arrival, and no one in the station has seen his face. Truly strange.”
Qi Ran looked to Song Huaijin. “Deputy Minister, are you aware of this?”
Song Huaijin nodded. “I am. In fact, I was on my way to meet this man just now—only I happened to encounter you first.”
At this moment, Xin Yuanshou spoke: “The Northern Frontier Army is currently engaged in battle with Xiliang. Ever since Marquis Fu Yun of Linjiang passed away three years ago, command has rested in the hands of his heir, Fu Jue. Rumor has it that on the battlefield, he is a god of slaughter, and off the field, his discipline is harsh. For someone to travel south at such a time, carrying a pass stamped with the commander’s seal—could it be some veteran general? Ordinary men would never receive his permission.”
Qi Ran immediately said: “Then why don’t we all go and see? On the day I arrived, I declared my identity, yet I was still refused entry. I found it strange. Among colleagues, courtesy and friendship are the norm. I would very much like to know who this person truly is, and whether he has any connection to Lord Yu’s death.”
Qi Ran’s openness made him seem fearless, and none of the others voiced objection. Song Huaijin observed them quietly, then gave a slight nod, agreeing they should all go together.
As they walked, Qi Ran spoke of how anxious he had been these past few days. Song Huaijin glanced at Liu Yishan. “Not only you—Post Master Liu was so frightened he thought ghosts and spirits were at work.”
At the mention of supernatural forces, several faces shifted subtly. Song Huaijin understood. “So you’ve heard the rumors as well.”
Qi Ran smiled. “Indeed. They say the Guanyin Temple is most efficacious. But we are men of learning, officials of the court—we would never believe tales of curses and spirits killing men.”
Song Huaijin assented. Half a cup of tea’s time later, they arrived before a secluded courtyard at the northernmost end of the station.
Zhu Yun stepped forward and knocked. After a moment, the gate swung open.
A young, stern face appeared. The man wore plain clothes and a sword at his waist. Seeing so many gathered, his eyes filled with suspicion and wariness. “What is the matter?”
Song Huaijin’s voice was grave. “Are you aware that a murder has occurred within the station? I am Deputy Minister Song Huaijin of the Court of Judicial Review, here by imperial command. When you entered the station, you gave no name. I have come to question you.”
Though he heard this was an imperial investigation, the youth showed no fear. “We know of the murder. But in the past few days, we have remained within our own courtyard. The station staff can attest to it. The crime has nothing to do with us. You need not waste your time here.”
He moved to shut the door, but Song Huaijin was quick, pressing his palm against it. “It is not for you to declare yourself innocent. The victim was a third‑rank court official. The weapon used was most likely a *mo dao*, a military blade. You are from the Northern Frontier Army—did you bring such blades with you?”
The youth released the door. “And how do you determine it was a *mo dao*?”
“By the coroner’s examination.”
“Even if it was a *mo dao*, our master is injured and has not left this courtyard. How could he harm anyone?”
“So you admit you did bring *mo dao*?” Song Huaijin pressed harder. “Then you must hand over the blade for inspection. And if your master is injured, we must verify it ourselves. Apart from your own word, there is no witness. You carry a pass stamped with the commander’s seal, yet you gave no name, and within days of your arrival, a murder occurs. Naturally, suspicion falls upon you.”
At the demand to examine both the blade and his master’s wound, anger flickered in the youth’s eyes. “Aside from the coroner’s claim, what proof do you have? Our pass bears the seal of the Northern Frontier Army’s commander. Do you mean to say we are not fit to lodge in an official station?”
Song Huaijin gave a cold laugh. “Don’t speak of a mere commander’s seal—even if your young lord himself were here, he would still have to give a clear account.”
“You—”
“Lin Wei.” A clear voice rang out.
The young man turned in shock. “Master—”
The crowd outside the gate also froze. Soon, the sound of wheels rolling across the ground approached. Lin Wei sighed, then swung the half‑closed gate wide open, revealing the courtyard within.
A stone path led to the main hall, dusted with a thin layer of snow. Three attendants, dressed like Lin Wei, were pushing a wheelchair toward the gate. Seated upon it was a young man wrapped in a snow‑white fox‑fur cloak. He had sword‑like brows and starry eyes, a straight nose and thin lips—strikingly handsome. Yet even from several yards away, everyone could see the pallor of his face. His body leaned weakly against the chair, swaying slightly with its movement, his breath faint, his frame fragile.
The wheelchair drew closer and stopped at the gate. The young man spoke softly: “Hand over the blade.”
One attendant unfastened a long sword from his waist and tossed it to Song Huaijin. Caught off guard, Song Huajin staggered under its weight, nearly dropping it.
Though Lin Wei’s manner was proud, his master proved unexpectedly accommodating. And he was clearly just past twenty, far from the veteran general Xin Yuanshou had imagined.
Song Huaijin coughed lightly, preparing to question further, but the young man spoke first: “Who will examine the blade?”
His voice was clear and measured, each word unhurried. Combined with his refined appearance, he evoked the saying: “A gentleman, gentle as jade.” Yet his dark eyes were unnervingly calm, carrying the inscrutable depth of one accustomed to command.
Song Huaijin felt momentarily subdued. “Of course… our court coroner.”
The young man continued softly: “I want to see it with my own eyes.”
It was not a request, but an order.
Song Huaijin’s brows furrowed. *Who is this man, to think I must heed his command?*
Then he said: “I am Fu Jue.”
…
“The deceased, Yu Ming, aged around thirty, height five chi. Time of death: more than four days ago. After death, the body was dismembered.
There were four cuts: neck, waist, and both knees. All were sharp‑blade wounds, the edges smooth, the bones cleanly severed. Each cut bore heavy frontal trauma—the killer must have forced the victim to lie on his back and dismembered him from the front.”
Qi Xun had already stripped the corpse of its robes, leaving only four ghastly, pallid segments of limb upon the long case. Zhou Wei wore a face‑cloth and held a pellet of fragrant resin in his mouth, yet even so, the work was far from easy.
Qi Xun was utterly focused. “There are several contusions on the body. The wrists and ankles show purplish bruising—likely signs of binding.”
She examined each wound carefully from head to toe, then said: “On the left cheek, there is a decayed lesion. The rot is light, but the original wound can still be seen—dark brown in color. It should be—”
She frowned in thought, then her eyes lit up. “Frostbite!”
She immediately searched the body for similar marks. “There are about twelve frostbite injuries, mainly on the cheeks, neck, outer thighs, calves, torso, and hands and feet. The severity is irregular: red patches on the torso and thighs, swollen blisters on the calves and feet, and the worst—gangrene—on the hands, cheeks, and neck.”
Outside, snow lay bright and cold, the chill seeping through the cracks. Qi Xun’s legs were already numb. With no floor heating here, the room was nearly as cold as outdoors, though at least sheltered from the wind. The heating had been stopped only after Yu Ming’s death was discovered that night.
She declared firmly: “The victim suffered freezing before death. The first crime scene was not this room.”
Her conclusion made Zhou Wei shiver. “Not in the room? Then outside? But when they arrived, the door was locked from within, and the corpse already dismembered, blood everywhere. If you are right, then the killer must have slain him in daylight, moved the body, dismembered it, and then vanished from a sealed chamber? How could that be?”
Even he found his own words hard to explain. “Earlier Post Master Liu spoke of curses… could it be—”
Qi Xun shot him a weary glance. “I am a coroner. I only speak what the body tells me. What you describe is either the killer’s trick or some clever stratagem. It is not beyond explanation—perhaps only beyond our current imagination.”
Zhou Wei, younger than Qi Xun and newly entered the Court of Judicial Review alongside her, respected and feared this woman who lived among corpses. He dared not argue further.
Qi Xun then fetched a thin blade and returned to the east wing. The floor there was covered in frozen blood, leaving a human‑shaped stain after the body was removed. The deepest pools marked the sites of the severed wounds. With her knife, she scraped away the ice.
The station’s rooms were paved with blue brick. Though hard, bricks struck by sharp steel would bear marks. Yet beneath the scraped ice, the bricks were smooth—no trace of impact.
She had reached a decision. Just then, noisy footsteps sounded outside the window, accompanied by the rolling of wheels.
Qi Xun rose in suspicion, glimpsed a group passing the south window, and recognized Song Huaijin’s figure. She hurried out to meet them. But as she stepped from the east wing, she halted.
Song Huaijin and several finely dressed men surrounded a young man in a wheelchair. He wore a thick fox‑fur cloak, his face pale with illness, weaker even than Qi Xun herself. Yet his eyes were dark and fathomless, calm as still water. At the sight of him, Qi Xun’s heart gave a sudden jolt.
“This is the coroner I spoke of,” Song Huaijin said cautiously, his tone betraying some earlier ordeal. All eyes turned to Qi Xun, surprise and puzzlement in their gaze.
Qi Ran could not help but exclaim: “A coroner of the Court—yet a woman?”
Song Huaijin gave a dry laugh. “She has served for over a year. Though a woman, she is as capable and efficient as any man.”
He glanced at Fu Jue. “Qi Xun, the heir’s attendants indeed carry a *mo dao*. The heir wishes to see you examine it.”
Qi Xun’s eyes lit at the discovery, but to test the blade before its owner felt like a sword hanging overhead. She did not know Fu Jue’s identity, but hearing Song Huaijin call him “heir,” she understood his noble rank. She drew a silent breath and stepped forward steadily.
“This blade is heavy—take care.”
The *mo dao* was over two feet long and weighed dozens of pounds. Qi Xun nearly pitched forward as she received it, until Zhou Wei hurried to help draw the blade free.
It was a fine weapon of forged steel, its edge gleaming cold. Qi Xun bent close to examine it, and soon her brows furrowed.
“The edge is nicked in five places, from striking hard objects. In the third and fourth dents, there are traces of blood.” She hesitated, then forced herself to say: “It is human blood.”
Song Huaijin’s gaze sharpened on Fu Jue. “My lord heir, though you are injured, your attendants are skilled in arms. This blade bears blood. Surely it was not brought from Youzhou already stained? On the Laba Festival, you lacked witnesses to your whereabouts. How do you explain this?”
Song Huaijin fixed his gaze on Fu Jue. The others did the same. Yet Fu Jue merely pressed his thin lips together, calm and composed, showing no awareness of being the prime suspect. His eyes remained on Qi Xun, as though marveling at the audacity of this female coroner.
Behind him, Lin Wei spoke: “We came from Youzhou. Upon entering the borders of Youzhou, we encountered mountain bandits.”
The answer was unexpected. Song Huaijin asked, “Bandits? Do you have proof?”
Lin Wei spread his hands. “None.”
None at all. Song Huaijin felt they were certain he could do nothing against them—and indeed, he had no further evidence. Inviting gods is easy; sending them away is hard. With so many eyes upon him, what could he do?
“My lord, I have determined Lord Yu’s cause of death.” Just as he was cornered, Qi Xun’s voice rescued him. “Lord Yu’s death was unusual. I believe the truth may not be so simple.”
Song Huaijin quickly urged, “Go on—”
Qi Xun’s gaze shifted from the blade back to the corpse. “The killer dismembered the body, creating a gruesome scene. But Lord Yu’s true cause of death was freezing.”
“Freezing?!” Song Huaijin was taken aback. “After death, the heating here was stopped, and frost formed on the body—we all saw it. How can you say he died of freezing? How can you prove it?”
“Very simple.” Qi Xun looked toward the long case. “By opening Lord Yu’s skull, we will know.”