To avoid alarming the diners outside Zhidian Hall, Fu Xiujin instructed the shopkeeper to quietly summon only those staff who had access to the wine cellar. The shopkeeper hurried to comply.
In moments, six or seven workers stood in the courtyard, their faces pale with fright as they stared at the bones on the ground.
The corpse had little flesh left, the bones scattered. Yao Shu asked the shopkeeper for gloves and simple tools like tongs, spread clean hemp cloth on the ground, and began her examination right there. Her movements were swift and precise. Starting with the skull, within half an incense stick’s time, she had arranged the entire skeleton neatly on the ground.
“Miss Yao is truly skilled. The bones are so soft, yet she sorted them so quickly,” Madam Guo murmured, covering her mouth with a handkerchief as she leaned against General Deng Tingjun, too afraid to look closely but impressed nonetheless.
Deng Lingyun nodded. “Such proficiency cannot be achieved without years of experience.” As a fellow woman, she admired Yao Shu sincerely.
Yao Shu ignored their comments, focusing entirely on the corpse. Bones offered fewer clues than fresh bodies—she could not afford to miss a single detail.
After nearly half an hour, she stood, removed her gloves, and approached Fu Xiujin and the others.
“Well?” Fu Xiujin, as always, was concise.
“The deceased is male, about thirty-five years old, height four chi eight (approx. 1.6m). Because the body was soaked in vinegar, the bones softened completely. To reach this state, death must have occurred at least three days ago. The cervical spine, lumbar spine, and limb bones all show damage at the ends. Due to the softening, it’s hard to identify the exact weapon, but it’s certain that the victim was dismembered and stuffed into the wine jar. The killer lacked strength—multiple cuts were needed to sever the limbs, leaving many fractures.”
She then pointed to a pink tassel found in the jar. “If it didn’t belong to the victim, it was likely dropped by the killer.”
Fu Xiujin pressed his long fingers to his chin, then turned to the workers.
“Among you, is anyone about four chi eight in height, absent from work for more than three days?”
The workers looked at each other, muttering, then shook their heads.
Deng Xunfeng interjected, “It might not be a worker. If a worker died, it would be noticed quickly. Missing even one day, the shopkeeper would scold him.”
Yao Shu glanced at Fu Xiujin, but saw he disagreed.
His reasoning was sound. Hiding a body in a wine jar would inevitably be discovered once the wine was finished—not a good disposal method. Clearly, the killer acted hastily, dumping the body nearby. And since the wine cellar was at the back of Zhidian Hall, entry required passing through the kitchen, a restricted area. Strangers would not be allowed in.
Thus, the victim must have been someone whose presence in the cellar would not have aroused suspicion and who had been working at the time.
The shopkeeper nervously flipped through the staff register, then reported a name.
“It should be Wang Dachun. His height was about four chi seven or eight. He stopped coming to work eight days ago. But he left after collecting his wages, saying he’d earned enough to marry. So I didn’t stop him.”
“Who last saw him? Where does Wang Dachun live? Send the bones and jar fragments to the Court immediately.”
Fu Xiujin gave his orders, then politely told General Deng and Madam Guo that the tea gathering must end, promising to meet again another time.
The General understood and left with Madam Guo. Deng Xunfeng insisted on tagging along with Fu Xiujin, so Deng Lingyun stayed behind to watch him, as Madam Guo requested.
The groups parted ways. Fu Xiujin led Yao Shu and the others onto a carriage bound for Wang Dachun’s home.
With four people squeezed inside, space was tight. Deng Xunfeng, restless as ever, chattered the whole way.
“No wonder Fu Xiujin likes you. The way you examined the corpse without flinching—you’re like the Underworld’s Judge of Death. Truly worthy of the title ‘Jade-faced King of Hell.’”
“No wonder Miss Lingyun doesn’t like you. Your mouth runs like a market gossip, unworthy of her.”
Deng Lingyun shot Yao Shu a warning glance not to speak recklessly. But Yao Shu saw she was only sharp-tongued, and cheerfully scooted closer to sit beside her.