Chapter 47: Identifying the Body

Inside the room.

“Uncle Quan, what did you find?” Ji Changge asked softly.

“I questioned a brothel keeper. He said no one saw how Lu Hongjian was married off—only that she was taken away in the night. Madam Chun ordered them never to mention her name again. I also found these.” As Uncle Quan spoke, he produced a bundle from behind his back. ‘Questioned’ was perhaps too gentle a word—he had all but strangled the man to get answers.

Ji Changge accepted the bundle and opened it. His brows knitted together.

“I dug these out from the ashes. Perhaps the rain doused the flames, so some things survived,” Uncle Quan explained.

Ji Changge examined the contents: old clothes, letters, and even several portraits of Lu Hongjian herself. There was no way she had burned these herself—no one would ever destroy their own portraits; it was an ominous act, and portraits could easily be taken away.

The rain—again the rain. He remembered the night he went to Yangzhou Prefecture; it too had been a night of torrential rain. Was this fate at work?

He leaned in and whispered a few words to Uncle Quan, who nodded and withdrew.

...

Knock, knock...

Wen Qi opened her eyes. She was a light sleeper, and her heart tightened. Who would be knocking at this hour?

“It’s me,” Ji Changge called softly.

Her tension eased. With a faint frown, she got up and opened the window.

“Why is the Young Lord Ning not asleep at this hour? What brings you to me?”

Seeing Wen Qi’s drowsy, unguarded appearance, Ji Changge’s lips curled into a smile. This side of her, less composed than by day, suited her youth far better.

Catching the meaning in his smile, Wen Qi said coldly, “If you have no business, Young Lord Ning—”

“I’ve found someone who can confirm the identity of the female corpse,” Ji Changge interrupted.

Wen Qi’s eyes lit up. It seemed he worked efficiently after all.

“And what does that have to do with me?”

“Of course it concerns you. You have to come with me. The mortuary is far too eerie—I’m no coroner. In the dead of night, that place is ghastly...” Ji Changge bit his lip and looked pitiable.

Wen Qi’s brow twitched. Was he really trying to act pitiful before her?

“But I promised my father I’d never examine corpses again. I can't go back on my word.”

“You don’t have to examine the body—just assist. If we solve the case, the Hanjiang County yamen will owe a great debt of gratitude. I still remember our agreement,” Ji Changge continued to coax her.

Wen Qi was silent for a moment. “Let me change my clothes.”

A short while later, both dressed in black, they disappeared into the night. A carriage awaited at the end of the alley, concealed in the shadows, and silently carried them toward the mortuary.

Inside the carriage, Wen Qi glanced at the other figure clad in black. Instinct told her the person was a woman.

A pungent scent wafted faintly to her nose. Wen Qi frowned slightly—she was always sensitive to fragrances, and anything too strong made her throat uncomfortable. Yet the perfume on this lady was unlike the usual incense of a woman’s boudoir, though she couldn’t quite place it.

They traveled in silence until the carriage stopped at the mortuary gates. The rain had nearly ceased, leaving the ground thick with mud.

The mortuary was shrouded in darkness. Uncle Quan held up a lantern. Ji Changge got down, turned, and helped Wen Qi alight, then assisted the mysterious lady as well.

Uncle Quan pushed open the mortuary door. A single lamp burned within, its weak light barely piercing the gloom. The three entered, and Wen Qi noticed Uncle Xun, the caretaker, already waiting for them.

“Thank you, Uncle Xun,” Ji Changge said.

“No need for such courtesy, my lord.”

Wen Qi felt the mysterious woman beside her begin to tremble uncontrollably—a natural reaction for any woman. The mortuary was heavy with death, and on a rainy night, the atmosphere was truly chilling. Were she not accustomed to the scent of morgues, Wen Qi herself might have felt weak at the knees. Yet this woman, despite her trembling, was far more composed than the average sheltered maiden.

Uncle Xun lifted the white cloth from the corpse.

“Ah!” The mysterious woman screamed, turned away, and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Miss Leng, don’t be afraid,” Ji Changge said quickly.

Leng Yijun shrank back, trembling even more violently.

“It’s only bloated from the water. Miss Leng, please look carefully—could this be Miss Lu Hongjian?”

Leng Yijun shook her head desperately, refusing to glance at the corpse. “It’s certainly not her. Hongjian was as lovely as a flower—she could never have become such an ugly corpse.”

“No matter how beautiful a person was, all corpses look the same. Please look closely, Miss Leng. Is this Lu Hongjian?” Ji Changge coaxed gently.

Leng Yijun shuddered, face as pale as paper. “No. I won’t look.”

With that, she covered her mouth and rushed outside to retch.

Ji Changge sighed. He had asked Uncle Quan to secretly bring Leng Yijun here, but he hadn’t expected even someone as icy and composed as her to react so strongly to the sight of the corpse. He had overlooked one thing—she was, after all, a young woman. His gaze drifted to Wen Qi’s expressionless face. Once, Wen Qiniang would scream at the sight of a dead snake. What had happened to her in these past days to make her so...

Ignoring Ji Changge’s curious gaze, Wen Qi turned to Leng Yijun. “Miss Leng, do you know if Lu Hongjian had any birthmarks or distinguishing features?”

Leng Yijun opened her eyes. “She had a black mole at the center of her brow, about the size of a grain of rice. On her waist, a red birthmark about the size of a soybean. Apart from that, I don’t recall any others.”

Wen Qi regarded the corpse, its skin mottled black and green. Nothing could be seen on the surface—no moles, no birthmarks, nothing.

Ji Changge sighed. Even her own parents might not recognize this body.

“Did she ever break any bones or suffer injuries?” Wen Qi pressed.

“Let me think.” Leng Yijun was barely holding herself together, nearly suffocated by the stench and the presence of the corpse. Forcing herself to recall the past, she said, “Two years ago, Hongjian fell and broke her left arm. She rested less than a month before Madam Chun forced her back to work.”

Wen Qi’s eyes brightened. If there had been a fracture, they could confirm Lu Hongjian’s identity through the remains.

“Uncle Quan.”

“Yes, young master.”

Uncle Quan donned gloves and felt along the corpse’s bones. “No abnormalities.”

Ji Changge’s eyes dimmed. Could it be this wasn’t Lu Hongjian after all?

Leng Yijun, however, breathed a sigh of relief. She did not want this to be her dear friend. If it wasn’t, there was hope that Lu Hongjian was still alive somewhere. How she wished, as Madam Chun had claimed, that her Hongjian had married and left, not lying here, wretched and unrecognizable.

“Scrape away the decayed flesh and check for fracture lines,” Wen Qi instructed.

Uncle Quan drew a dagger from his sleeve and carefully scraped the flesh from the bone. A dark red fissure appeared.

“There’s evidence of a healed fracture,” Uncle Quan reported.

Leng Yijun collapsed to the floor, unable to believe that this hideous corpse was truly her beautiful friend, Lu Hongjian.