Chapter 14

By the time Zhou Zheng and Yang An arrived, Li Jin and Jin Shu both wore expressions of utter despair—having just endured a long-winded, five-coin story that was painfully dull.

The lantern vendor, however, was still going strong, rambling on for a full quarter of an hour. If not for Yang An’s sharp rebuke, cutting off the solo performance, the man might have kept talking for another hour.

On the way back, Jin Shu walked behind the others, carrying her tiger lantern, feeling a curious gaze from beside her. She turned and saw Zhou Zheng, arms full of her newly purchased knives, staring at the lantern in her hand. “How did you know that lantern vendor could tell stories?”

“Heh.” Jin Shu gave a dry laugh and cast a resentful glance at Li Jin’s back. “Money talks.”

Then she muttered, “So generous when buying information, but when it came to settling my restaurant bill the other day, he wouldn’t pay a coin.”

Just as she finished, Li Jin abruptly stopped, turned around with a “very friendly” smile, and pulled five coins from his sleeve. “What’s this? Still upset you didn’t hear the end of the story?”

Jin Shu froze and waved her hands quickly. “No, no, Your Highness misunderstood.”

But Li Jin stepped forward, grabbed her wrist, opened her palm, and firmly placed the five coins into it. “You’ve worked tirelessly tonight, Master Jin. You deserve full payment.”

His smile was so dazzling it could rival the temple’s golden Buddha—so bright it made Jin Shu’s eyes ache. This man was clearly settling a personal score.

Seeing her stunned into silence, Li Jin was thoroughly pleased. The mental fog from the vendor’s pointless chatter seemed to lift, replaced by a refreshing breeze. His mood soared.

Only Jin Shu, turning over the phrase “worked tirelessly,” stared pitifully at the five coins in her hand, unable to protest. Now that she’d accepted this “overtime pay,” she had no choice but to work through the night and finish the autopsy.

Just then, the usually invisible Magistrate Yang An stepped forward and bowed solemnly. “Your Highness, this is inappropriate.” He glanced at Jin Shu and added, “This Master Jin is cutting and sawing the corpse at night. Such activity may invite evil spirits.”

Li Jin had heard this kind of talk countless times since becoming head of the Six Gates. In the 210 years since Great Wei was founded, coroners had been forbidden to dissect corpses for 204 of them.

In the case of Li Mu’s alleged treason, the inability to perform an autopsy left too many unanswered questions—crucial evidence that could have cleared his name was never examined.

Even Emperor Li Yi, who had wanted to protect Li Mu, was forced to act under pressure from all sides due to these ambiguities. In the end, to save his life, Li Mu was deposed and exiled to the northwest. Consort Xiao was sent to the Cold Palace—a disastrous move.

And even then, Li Mu couldn’t be saved.

So when Li Jin took over the Six Gates, his first decree was that unless there was a valid reason, no one could obstruct a coroner from performing a full autopsy. Every autopsy had to be documented and preserved for case resolution.

Now, Yang An stood in his way, spouting superstitions. Li Jin was displeased, though his face remained calm. He looked up at the star-filled sky, flicked open his fan, and smiled coldly. “Magistrate Yang, what guilty secrets are you hiding? Is your conscience so troubled you fear ghosts knocking at your door?”

The words struck Yang An like a blow. His face went pale, and cold sweat broke out on his back. He quickly shook his head and stammered, “I just meant… Your Highness has been working nonstop since noon. Now that it’s dark, perhaps it’s time to rest.”

Li Jin slowly waved his fan, scanning the middle-aged man before him. His eyes narrowed. “And in such circumstances, you can still sleep soundly?” He snapped his fan shut and tapped Yang An’s shoulder twice with a mocking smile, then strode into the Magistrate’s office.

Yang An stood frozen for a moment, then wiped his forehead and hurried after him.

Back in the same small room from earlier, Jin Shu lit the lamp, tied her sleeves, donned her face cloth and gloves. She held her newly purchased knife over the flame, sterilizing it carefully.

With her tools complete, Jin Shu felt like she had wings. From the moment she bent over the corpse, the small room became her stage.

Day or night, she worked with the belief that every life once lived deserved respect. Her focus narrowed to the body before her.

In that moment, she was the corpse whisperer—the voice of the dead. Everything she did was to seek justice for those who had died unjustly. As her blade moved forward, details began to connect in her mind.

“Male, approximately forty years old. Time of death: around twenty days ago. Strangulation marks are evenly distributed, encircling the neck in a tight loop. The marks are narrow, dark brown, and leather-like. On the back of the neck, the grooves intersect. Skin shows ridged swelling and pinpoint hemorrhages. Fracture of the thyroid cartilage and hyoid bone.”

She switched to a boning knife, stepped forward, and gently turned the head.

“Skull fracture, partial breakage. Likely caused by blunt force trauma. The wound is fresh but not fatal.”

She moved to the legs, pressing firmly on the thighs and calves.

“Fractured and misaligned leg bones—old injury. Doesn’t significantly impair mobility. He had some ability to resist.”

She removed her gloves and looked at Li Jin. “Your Highness, do you have rope?”

Without hesitation, Li Jin handed her the cord from his sleeves.

Jin Shu examined it, then said, “One more.” She twisted the two ropes together and pulled them taut. “Lord Zhou, would you assist?”

Zhou Zheng hesitated, glancing at Li Jin.

Li Jin reached out, grabbed Yang An’s arm, and pulled him forward with a smile. “Magistrate Yang, if you please.”

Jin Shu swallowed nervously. “Forgive me, Magistrate Yang.”

Then she wrapped the rope around his neck from behind.

“Y-Your Highness! This—this…” Yang An’s face turned white. He reached toward Li Jin, terrified by his cheerful expression.

“Don’t worry, Magistrate. If Master Jin slips, it’s all in the name of justice—not personal.”

Li Jin’s righteous tone made Yang An’s heart leap into his throat.

“Master Jin… you might slip?” he asked, voice trembling.