“I won’t make a mistake—the deceased truly died a day ago. It’s summer now, the weather is hot, and the livor mortis on his body no longer fades when pressed. On top of that, rigor mortis has already begun to ease, and the joints of his fingers can move slightly. So the time of death must have exceeded twelve hours.”
Yao Shu would not allow anyone to question her professional skill—this was the most basic knowledge.
Fu Xiujin clearly agreed with her insistence on the time of death. He turned to Madam Guo and asked, “Is there anyone who can testify that the deceased was in the study yesterday at noon?”
“There is. Steward Wang saw him.”
“Then let’s go to the Cao residence first.”
Fu Xiujin immediately changed course, deciding to head to the Cao household. He had Madam Guo ride in his carriage to discuss the situation along the way, while Yao Shu requested to ride with Madam Guo so she could examine the body more closely. After a moment’s thought, Fu Xiujin agreed.
Indeed, during the ride, Yao Shu discovered new clues: the nail of the corpse’s left index finger was broken, there was some dark red powder lodged in the cracks of the middle and ring fingernails, and a fine yellow thread was caught in the gold chain around the neck.
The Cao residence was not far—within a quarter of an hour, they arrived.
Madam Guo gave brief instructions to the gatekeeper and led Yao Shu and the others inside. The gatekeeper, pale with fear, hurriedly helped the servants unload Cao Hongfa’s body from the carriage.
The corpse was quickly placed on the couch in the study. Yao Shu accepted the autopsy kit handed to her by Zhao Shaobai and began the examination with full concentration. She had already been working for nearly half an hour when a shrill cry pierced her ears.
“Master! My master! Heaven curse it—who, who killed my master?! Do you mean for me not to live?!” A woman in a rose-colored jacket burst into the room, her face streaked with tears and smeared makeup. Seeing Yao Shu examining the body, she rushed forward and grabbed Yao Shu’s sleeve, wailing.
Yao Shu frowned in distaste, shook her off, and stepped back. Before she could speak, Madam Guo entered with a man in tow. At the sight of the woman clinging to the corpse, Madam Guo’s face darkened.
“Concubine Su, step aside! If you obstruct the officials of the Court of Judicial Review, you won’t be able to bear the consequences!” She then turned apologetically to the others and pointed to the man behind her. “This is Steward Wang. He’s the one who saw my husband in the study yesterday at noon.”
Steward Wang glanced nervously at the corpse on the couch, then immediately knelt.
“My lord, I did not lie. Yesterday morning, the master was in the study reading the account books. I was outside directing the servants to dry bedding. I even saw him change his posture. When I went to arrange lunch, that was when the master closed the window.”
Yao Shu dashed outside, peered in through the window, then hurried back.
“You didn’t see the deceased’s face, did you? From outside, you can only see the back of someone sitting in the chair.”
Steward Wang nodded—indeed, he had not seen the master’s face, since the window faced the rear.
“I just examined the body. There are large patches of livor mortis on the buttocks and thighs, proving the deceased remained seated for some time after death. He must have been moved into the study and placed in a sitting position after he died.”
“But when I brought lunch yesterday, the master was inside throwing a tantrum, smashing things, and shouting at me to leave!” Concubine Su suddenly interjected, pointing at the floor before the desk where a teacup lay shattered.
Madam Guo’s temper flared. “You shameless fox! Every time I punish you, you sneak off to plead with the master. Disobedient, disgraceful creature!”
“After Steward Wang left, you delivered lunch, but you didn’t actually enter the study, did you?” Fu Xiujin cut off Madam Guo’s scolding, suspecting someone else had been inside.
Concubine Su lowered her head, glanced at Madam Guo, and muttered softly that it was true.
Yao Shu found this odd. She asked Madam Guo, “So, Madam Cao, from yesterday afternoon onward, Master Cao never appeared in the household? No one looked for him? No one realized he was missing? It’s been an entire night.”
Madam Guo’s face showed discomfort. At last, she sighed helplessly. “The master has always been fond of women. Sometimes he spends the night in the pleasure quarters. I used to send people to fetch him, but after a while, it was always the same brothel or singer’s house. I stopped troubling myself.”
Yao Shu understood—Madam Guo had simply assumed her husband was out carousing.
“The killer must have murdered Master Cao, then moved the body into the study. He hid inside, adjusted the corpse’s posture, and even shouted at Concubine Su to create the illusion that the master was still alive. Later, he hid the body beneath the carriage, intending to dispose of it. But by coincidence, our carriages collided, and the corpse fell out into broad daylight.”
Fu Xiujin turned to Madam Guo, his voice firm. “The killer must be someone within the household—someone familiar with your habits, Steward Wang’s routine, and Concubine Su’s comings and goings. He used your eyes to fabricate a false time of death.”
Yao Shu silently praised him—handsome and quick-witted, truly a leader. She glanced at the women in the room and added, “I examined the body carefully. The genitals were cut off after death—the wound shows no vital reaction and little bleeding. Such cruelty suggests a crime of passion. The ligature marks on the neck are deep, angled upward from behind. The killer strangled Master Cao from behind, breaking the cervical vertebrae. Judging from the fracture, the killer was a strong man, about five feet four in height.”
Madam Guo and the others were stunned. Zhao Shaobai shifted uneasily, clearly imagining something.
Fu Xiujin spoke gravely to Madam Guo, who immediately ordered Steward Wang to gather all male household servants who met the height requirement. Soon, two young men stood in the courtyard.
Steward Wang introduced them: one was a plump cook named He Tian, the other a dark-skinned, muscular guard named Liu Dali.
Both had already heard the situation on the way. Before Fu Xiujin could even begin questioning, He Tian was trembling on his knees.
“My lord, please see clearly—I only slaughter chickens and cattle. I wouldn’t dare kill a man!”