Han Mao snorted, unreasonable as ever, and waved for his servants to move the corpse.
Di Yuanxiu rested his hand on the sword at his waist, ready to draw at a moment’s notice.
Su Yihan walked slowly, approaching Han Mao and bowing:
“Lord Han.”
Han Mao narrowed his eyes, appraising her. Her slender, graceful posture and the maid Tao Chun beside her marked her unmistakably as Su Yihan of the Su family.
Su Yihan’s tone was calm and even:
“I have heard of you, sir. At the age of twenty, you ranked top in the imperial exams and entered the court, relieving the Emperor’s worries. I have long admired people like you. When the household is strong, the family is secure. I assume Lord Han will not obstruct the investigation?”
Han Mao gritted his teeth. This girl—sharp-tongued and clever—was flattering him so skillfully that he had no excuse to refuse.
If he refused, it would seem he had something to hide. He stepped back:
“Then the coroner and the Jin Yi Wei must both be women.”
His sharp gaze swept over the Di brothers, the implication clear.
Su Yihan pretended to think for a moment, then said:
“Very well.”
“Yuanxin, Yuanxiu, withdraw and fetch a female coroner.”
“Yes!” Di Yuanxin responded with a smile.
A female coroner was brought in. The corpse was moved indoors, and a few guards were left to watch the scene.
The coroner began examining Han Ruichu’s body, stripping away her clothes.
Su Yihan observed silently.
There were no obvious weapon wounds—only bruises and marks consistent with sexual assault, suggesting involvement of substances in her body.
Su Yihan gave Tao Chun a subtle glance. Tao Chun brought a steaming cup of tea and cheerfully offered it to Madam Han:
“Madam, you must be thirsty. Please have some tea.”
Madam Han: “….”
Why would there be tea in a mortuary? Such a strong flavor too.
She refused: “No need.”
The pain of losing a daughter left little interest in tea.
Tao Chun “accidentally” twisted her ankle, spilling the tea and tumbling to the ground with a thud.
“My fault, mistress!”
She quickly adjusted, kneeling on the floor in apology.
Madam Han’s clothes were splashed, and anger rose on her face. She kicked Tao Chun away and stormed out:
“You wretched maid!”
Now, only Su Yihan and their own people remained in the mortuary.
Tao Chun brushed off the dust, stood up unbothered, and smiled as if claiming credit:
“Mistress, buy Tao Chun a new dress!”
“Agreed,” Su Yihan replied, removing her bamboo hat and smiling.
The coroner naturally handed her the mortuary tools.
Su Yihan’s gaze was calm as she skillfully dissected the corpse’s abdomen:
“There is undigested food in the stomach—she died before digestion, with some intact food remnants.”
Using tweezers, she picked up a leaf, dusted it with silver powder.
“This is not a common sedative from the market.” She placed the evidence in a clean bag.
Adjusting the position, she spread Han Ruichu’s legs to examine further.
Residual semen confirmed rape. There were no defensive marks—she was knocked unconscious first, then assaulted.
The lower body was severely damaged, making death in bed plausible.
Therefore, the perpetrator had to be a man, sexually capable.
Considering the timing around the hour of the Rat, they began tracing those who had been near Han Ruichu.
Su Yihan let out a soft laugh:
“Greed leads to death.”
At that hour, she should have been resting according to normal routine.
The examinations were complete.
Tao Chun brought warm water to clean her hands.
Back at the Su residence, Su Yihan locked herself in the courtyard to analyze the components of the silver powder.
Besides standard sedatives, the powder contained “passion powder” and venom from a highly poisonous snake—fatal within an hour.
Such a snake was rare. If the crime had been premeditated, the perpetrator must have raised the snake themselves.
A snake, a sexually capable man, and disposing of the body in public—all suggested someone with a personal grudge against Han Ruichu.
There were traces to follow, so it would not be difficult.
After standing and focusing for so long, Su Yihan staggered, gripping the table to steady herself, nearly collapsing.
Her lips pale, vision blurry, breathing rapid, chest heaving—she fumbled in her sleeve for a bottle of medicine, shakily removed the stopper, poured pills into her palm, and swallowed them.
Exhausted, she slumped against the wall, silently catching her breath.
“General Shen!” Su Jin greeted Shen Yu with delight. “Quick, pour some tea for the general.”
Shen Yu smiled faintly:
“You may simply call me Shen Yu.”
He drank the tea with ease:
“The case of Miss Han—the Emperor has sent me to assist Su Jin. I hope to learn much from you, Lord Su.”
Su Jin paused, surprised:
“Investigating a case? Isn’t young Shen returning to the Northwest?”
“Not in the short term,” Shen Yu nodded slightly.
Su Jin laughed openly:
“That’s good. Young Shen has been in the Northwest for years and may be unfamiliar with the capital. My daughter…”
He trailed off, remembering Su Yihan’s frail health and realizing she could not accompany him for tours. He chuckled awkwardly and fell silent.
Shen Yu smiled, unconcerned, with subtle meaning:
“The young lady is intelligent and refined. She dares to confront Han Mao, examine the corpse, and commands respect even in front of Lord Su’s confidants—a woman not content with the status quo.”
“Indeed.” Su Jin beamed:
“This morning, Yihan was curious about young Shen. And now he has come. I’ll send someone to notify them. Young Shen, sit and have some refreshments first.”
Shen Yu nodded slightly and seated himself at a side chair.
The Su residence was not extravagant, but for someone of Su Jin’s status, it was suitably modest.
Observing from the entrance, the courtyard was planted with medicinal herbs, and the elderly servants moved quietly and gently.
The tea was of the finest quality, good for health. The snacks were delicate, subtly sweet with herbal fragrance.
In some ways, the household was frugal; in others, it was overly luxurious.
Su Jin’s own clothes were patched and old, yet he refused new ones, while Su Yihan wore the finest silk.
Qi Jue had said her illness was congenital, sustained by precious medicines. The Su family had once been extremely wealthy; Su Jin’s bride price had consisted of forty boxes, second only to the Empress.
More than her appearance, what drew attention first was her cough.
Her steps were light, moving slowly with Tao Chun’s support.
Her dress was simple—smoky blue long robe, hair cascading over her shoulders, delicate jewelry swaying lightly with pleasant chimes.
Her voice, soft and gentle, carried as she spoke:
“Yihan greets General Shen.”
Shen Yu’s thin lips curved slightly; his gaze fixed firmly on Su Yihan.
She played her part well, showing none of the sharpness from before—obedient and soft.
Su Jin rose quickly, beaming:
“Yihan, you’ve finally come out of the courtyard.”