Jiang Yunxin froze. “Huh? Now?”
She knew what a Mortuary was: the public morgue of this era.
There were no Mortuaries in the city. They were generally located in remote places outside the city, where few people went, so as not to frighten anyone.
Unclaimed bodies, or bodies involved in unsolved cases, would be temporarily stored in a Mortuary.
Of course, they could not be left there indefinitely. Corpses would begin to stink and rot, and they could spread disease. Under the regulations of the Jinming Dynasty, bodies could be kept for three days in hot weather and seven days in cold weather. If no one claimed them, or if the case remained unsolved, they had to be buried immediately.
Naturally, anyone who had died of an epidemic—or was suspected of having done so—had to be burned to ashes and then buried deep underground, to prevent the disease from spreading.
After a major disaster, a major epidemic often followed. In many cases, it was because the dead could not be dealt with in time. Bacteria multiplied in the heat, turning the corpses into a plague and creating a vicious cycle.
The Mortuary received government funding to purchase a simple coffin for each body, which was then given a hasty burial.
It might not be particularly dignified, but at least the dead were laid to rest instead of becoming lonely, wandering ghosts.
Seeing that Jiang Yunxin had not immediately agreed, Fang Mingyan asked, “Are you afraid?”
“No, it’s not that.” Jiang Yunxin certainly was not afraid. She was merely puzzled. “Am I going with you? What about Lian Tianlu?”
She was only an apprentice. Fang Mingyan’s personal visit to the Mortuary surely meant there was a case to handle. Being specifically summoned had left her flattered and overwhelmed.
Fang Mingyan’s expression turned solemn. “Lian Tianlu neglected his duties, accepted bribes, and interfered with the investigation. He has already been imprisoned.”
The news actually made Jiang Yunxin rather happy.
Anyone who could pin the blame on her so readily was clearly no good person.
Fang Mingyan continued, “The Mortuary reported a case just now. Parts of the corpses there have been going missing recently. Come with me to investigate. I’ll take the opportunity to assess you as well. If you pass, you can remain at the Judicial Review Office. Though you are a woman, anyone who works under me is rewarded according to merit. Whatever you deserve, you will receive in full.”
Because most people considered handling corpses a terrifying and bloody line of work, for a long time coroners had been regarded as disreputable. They not only lacked official rank but also belonged to the lowest social register.
Later, the role of coroners gradually came to be valued. Although the work involved handling corpses, it was done in the name of justice and was indispensable; it therefore deserved respect. Here, coroners still did not hold official rank, but their treatment was not poor, and their social standing had improved considerably.
Of course, most families were still unwilling to marry their sons to a woman who worked as a coroner. There was no other reason for it—they were afraid.
Jiang Yunxin did not care. She felt she would have to be insane to get married in this era.
Fang Mingyan gave Jiang Yunxin the time it took to burn a stick of incense to get herself ready, but she needed only the time it took to drink a cup of tea.
She changed out of her bloodstained clothes, washed her hands, thought for a moment, and brought along a handkerchief to cover her face, as well as the gloves and tools she was accustomed to using.
The gloves were homemade, as were some of the tools. Even the teachers at the academy had praised them when they saw them.
“Heaven-bestowed genius”—those four words were not her own boast. They were praise from her teachers at the academy.
She was entirely worthy of it.
With the experience of two lifetimes, how could she not be a genius?
A master pretending to be a novice was usually not showing off on purpose. Most of the time, it was simply a matter of keeping a low profile and being modest.
Long Qiao had already prepared a horse for Jiang Yunxin, and she spent a little time getting familiar with it. Every student at the academy had lessons in riding and archery, but they were limited to riding around the academy for practice. Few students ever went out on long journeys.
“Xiao Jiang, I can see that you don’t ride often. Get on, and I’ll take you around here once so you can get used to it.”
Long Qiao was very enthusiastic. In truth, during the few days Jiang Yunxin had spent at the Judicial Review Office, she had felt that it was completely different from the rumors outside.
In the eyes of ordinary people, the Judicial Review Office was a living hell—cruel and ruthless. Whoever entered, guilty or not, had to lose a layer of skin before they could leave.
In reality, the people inside were all quite decent. Aside from Lian Tianlu, the other maids and servants were polite enough. Long Qiao and the others who served as Fang Mingyan’s trusted aides usually kept stern, imposing faces, but according to what the young maid had told her, they did not bully people and were willing to help whenever something happened.
They were all good people.
Jiang Yunxin did not want to suffer the humiliation—and face the danger—of being thrown from her horse halfway there, so she happily mounted.
After making two circuits and rediscovering the feeling of riding, she felt she could pass the riding test. Just then, Fang Mingyan came out.
“My lord, Xiao Jiang says she’s ready.” Long Qiao pulled on the reins and brought the horse to a stop.
Jiang Yunxin was slightly surprised. It sounded as though this had been Fang Mingyan’s instruction.
An employer so considerate was probably concerned because coroners were genuinely difficult to find. With the old coroner imprisoned, if she were crippled by a fall halfway there, there really would be no one left to do the work.
Jiang Yunxin was extremely grateful that she possessed a special skill.
By the time they left the capital and reached the Mortuary at the foot of Qili Mountain, on the outskirts of the city, dusk was falling. This time, Fang Mingyan was primarily there to inspect the place. Aside from Jiang Yunxin, he had also brought four or five subordinates.
The sound of hooves rang out. Before long, Long Qiao at the front gradually slowed down.
“My lord.” Long Qiao pointed ahead with his riding crop. “That building up ahead is the Mortuary.”
Everyone slowly came to a stop.
Someone was supposed to guard the Mortuary, but they did not see anyone.
They dismounted.
The wind had risen that evening, and it showed every sign of growing stronger.
It was a somewhat dilapidated large building. Years of neglect had left it run-down, and the wind made it bang and clatter, drowning out the cries and screams from the mountaintop.
A white lantern hung by the entrance.
Two large characters were written on the signboard: Mortuary.
The lantern was made of paper and very light. After it whipped wildly in the wind a few times, it rolled to the ground and went out.
Long Qiao paid it no mind. In the faint moonlight, he pushed open the wooden door.
The door gave a long, teeth-grating creak.
The building was completely open inside, with no partitions. Two rows of coffins stood against the walls on either side, and it was impossible to tell whether anyone was inside them.
Four rows of simple wooden platforms stood in the middle. Some held corpses covered with straw mats; others were empty.
Long Qiao called out, “Old Man Zhou! Old Man Zhou!”
It seemed that Fang Mingyan and the others knew the Mortuary’s caretaker. That made sense, considering how many cases the Judicial Review Office handled and how often they would inevitably have to visit the Mortuary.
But no one answered.
Long Qiao turned around. “My lord, Old Man Zhou isn’t here. With the wind this strong tonight, who knows where he’s gone to hide and drink.”
Fang Mingyan nodded without showing any displeasure. “Let’s go in and take a look first.”
The old man who guarded the Mortuary had neither wife nor children and spent his days alone, watching over a pile of corpses. In weather like this, having a drink was understandable. Anyone who stayed too sober had probably already been scared to death.
Long Qiao went in first, holding up a torch. Fang Mingyan followed behind him. As he walked forward, he turned back to look at Jiang Yunxin.
“You… really aren’t afraid?”
Jiang Yunxin shook her head repeatedly.
More genuine than pure gold. If the pay were good and the work uncomplicated, she might even compete for the caretaker’s position.
Fang Mingyan still looked somewhat doubtful, but since Jiang Yunxin had said so, he did not press the matter. He turned and walked inside.
Whether intentionally or not, Jiang Yunxin ended up walking in the middle of the group.
They searched again but still could not find Zhou Changchun, the Mortuary’s caretaker. Fang Mingyan did not wait any longer and ordered, “Inspect the corpses.”
Oil lamps hung along all four walls of the Mortuary. They lit them one by one. Though the room was not as bright as daylight, there was enough light to see.
Everyone set down the torches in their hands.
Jiang Yunxin was not entirely sure what to do, so she asked, “My lord, do we inspect them one at a time?”
“Yes,” Fang Mingyan replied.
With a rustle, Jiang Yunxin lifted the white cloth covering the corpse in front of her.