Chapter 83: Dispute

The Mortuary of the Grand Court of Justice.

Zhongsun Yan was bent over a charred corpse, while an apprentice beside him recorded his findings in swift strokes of the brush. Ji Changge and the others stood around watching.

“My lord, there is a great deal of soot in the dead man’s throat, and his hands are clenched in a defensive fist. The cause of death was certainly burning to death,” Zhongsun Yan said after prying open the corpse’s mouth.

“So it was not a postmortem burning of the body?” Ji Changge asked.

Zhongsun Yan hesitated slightly, then nodded. “It should be as you say. Perhaps the weather was dry, and an oil lamp was overturned, igniting the bed curtains and the wooden bed. These were all highly flammable. The deceased was old, so he could not escape in time.”

Ji Changge nodded.

“Not necessarily. If the deceased had already been unconscious at the time, he would still have inhaled a great deal of soot, and his hands would also show the same defensive response. If the killer drugged him first and then set the fire, the body would look the same,” Wen Jing said.

Zhongsun Yan looked up at Wen Jing, displeased. “That is only your conjecture.”

Wen Jing bent down and studied several pieces of dark blue matter on the corpse’s head. Using forceps, she picked them out and held them beneath her nose.

“Brother Ding, how badly was the scene burned?” Wen Jing asked, turning to Ding Wu.

“The whole house collapsed in the fire, and everything inside was burned almost beyond recognition,” Ding Wu replied.

“Was the wardrobe inside the house open?” Wen Jing asked again.

Ding Wu glanced at Ji Changge. Both looked a little surprised, since they had not mentioned this detail before, thinking it had nothing to do with the case.

“It was open. The wardrobe and most of the clothes inside were burned as well.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Zhongsun Yan sneered. In his mind, she was just bringing up irrelevant nonsense because she could not make her theory hold together. He had been a coroner for nearly thirty years and had examined hundreds, if not thousands, of burned corpses. This young woman had only been at the Grand Court of Justice for little more than ten days, yet she dared to question his autopsy findings.

Wen Jing did not answer him directly. Instead, she continued, “Where was the deceased burned to death?”

“In bed,” said Ding Wu.

“That’s right.” Wen Jing smiled.

Seeing the air of mystery on her face, Zhongsun Yan persisted in his defense. “The man was old. Moreover, the bedding caught fire directly, and the flames soon burned him badly, so he could not escape. That explanation is entirely sound.”

“First, if he could not escape because he was burned, then since he was the only elderly person in the house, who opened the wardrobe door?”

“Th-this... perhaps it had been left open before he went to sleep and never shut,” Zhongsun Yan said hurriedly, though even he found the excuse rather strained.

“Second, why would he cover his own face with a piece of clothing before he was burned to death?”

Zhongsun Yan stiffened slightly.

“Because he wanted to block the soot,” he said at once. “That is instinct. Soot is choking.”

Wen Jing smiled faintly. “Then why would he get up and take a winter sheepskin coat from the wardrobe? Wouldn’t it have been easier to grab a blanket or garment from beside him?”

“This...” Zhongsun Yan stared, sweat beading and sliding down his forehead. He truly could not think of why.

“How do you know the deceased’s face was covered with a sheepskin coat?” he asked stubbornly, his gaze sharp and unyielding.

Wen Jing held up the charred black matter in her hand. “This was stuck to the dead man’s face. That means it was covering his face when he burned. In my opinion, this was sheepskin. If you don’t believe me, take a piece of sheepskin, char it, and compare the two. You’ll see.”

Zhongsun Yan looked at the burnt sheepskin in her hand in astonishment. A trace of shame rose on his face. He had only made a cursory examination and, from the start, assumed the dead man had burned himself to death in the house. He had not even noticed that something had been covering the victim’s face. This young woman was truly meticulous.

“Seventh Miss, tell us the answer already,” Ji Changge said with a smile, thinking to himself that this Miss Wen had left Zhongsun the coroner speechless as soon as she arrived. Truly, a newborn calf fears no tiger. Though she was only just of age, she was fiercer than some pampered sons of wealthy families.

“The killer should have been someone the deceased knew well. From a psychological standpoint, after committing murder, the killer would not want to see the victim’s face and would cover it with clothing or something similar. That greatly lessens the feeling of guilt. My guess is that the murderer drugged the victim first, then went inside to search for something. After getting it, he tried to erase the evidence and set fire to the house in one stroke, destroying everything. Or perhaps he did not find what he wanted and burned the house down in rage,” Wen Jing said.

Psychology? Ji Changge wondered silently. Wen Jing always came out with words he had never heard before. Though he did not know what psychology meant, her reasoning seemed to make sense.

“If the killer took the item, why not simply leave?” Ji Changge asked.

“Good question. Because he did not want anyone to know the item had been taken. By creating a fire scene like this, anyone who knew such an object existed would assume it had been reduced to ashes,” Wen Jing explained.

Ding Wu nodded repeatedly, even looking at Wen Jing with a hint of admiration.

“Captain, we have news,” a guard said as he entered.

“Speak.”

“The son of Old Zhao has returned from outside. I’ve brought him here.”

“Bring him in quickly.” Everyone’s eyes lit up.

A middle-aged man with panic written all over his face hurried in, followed by an old man dressed as a servant. Both glanced around anxiously, as though searching for something.

“This is your father,” Ding Wu said with a sigh, pointing to the corpse on the wooden board.

The middle-aged man stared at the body in shock. After a long moment, he dropped to his knees beside it in tears. “Father, I should never have left you alone at home! Your son is unfilial!”

“Stop crying for now. I need to ask you a few questions,” Ji Changge said.

“Please, my lord, ask whatever you wish,” the man said, wiping his tears.

“Where have you been these past few days?”

“I went to Dongdan Village to buy cloth. I heard the fabric there was cheap, and since it was my first purchase, I went myself to take a look. Uncle Heng can testify for me. Besides, how could I possibly have harmed my own father?” he replied.

“I can testify,” said Uncle Heng.

The man did not seem to be lying, and he had no motive for murder. Ji Changge continued, “How much property did your family lose?”

The man pouted, unable to decide whether to laugh or cry. “Property is nothing. My father was burned to nothing. How could I still be concerned about those things?”

“You had better think carefully. What exactly was lost?”

After a moment’s thought, the man said, “There wasn’t much silver at home. I had already taken it all to purchase goods.”

Ji Changge and Wen Jing exchanged a look. Had they been mistaken? Was this not a case of greed and murder?

Zhongsun Yan glanced at Wen Jing with a faint air of satisfaction, thinking, Now let’s see how you get out of this. Youth, indeed.

“Think again. Was there any heirloom or valuable antique in the house?” Wen Jing asked.

The man slapped his forehead. “In my haste, how could I forget? There was indeed an antique at home. My father said it was some rose-purple glazed flower-pot stand from the Jun kilns, worth a fortune. He treated it as though it were more important than his own life.”

“Did anyone else know about this antique?” Wen Jing asked.

The man shook his head. “Probably not. My father was always very tight-lipped. He would never go around telling people.”

“Ding Wu, quietly notify every pawnshop. If anyone tries to pawn that rose-purple glazed flower-pot stand, arrest them at once and bring them to the Grand Court of Justice for questioning. Also, visit the neighbors and see whether anyone was seen entering or leaving the Zhao home,” Ji Changge ordered.

“Yes, my lord.” Ding Wu left at once.

Zhongsun Yan looked at Wen Jing. The light in his eyes dimmed slightly. With a sigh, he silently gathered the items on the ground, suddenly feeling a touch of powerlessness. Had he grown old?

Ji Changge also stepped out.

“Senior Zhongsun, Seventh Miss has something she wishes to ask your guidance on,” Wen Jing said with a respectful bow.

Zhongsun Yan raised his head. Seeing her earnest expression, he nodded.

“Senior Zhongsun, do you still remember the case involving Shen Ying five years ago?” Wen Jing asked directly.

Zhongsun Yan looked up in surprise, clearly not expecting that question. He quickly glanced around, and only after confirming that no one else was nearby did he lower his voice. “Why are you suddenly thinking of that case?”

“During this time, I’ve been in the archives room, and I feel that case was highly suspicious,” Wen Jing said.

Zhongsun Yan shook his head. “Never bring up that case again. Passion is a good thing, but young people should not be too curious. Some things are past; there is no need to mention them again.”

Wen Jing seemed not to hear him and continued, “What is strange is that in the five years since, there has not been another similar case.”

Zhongsun Yan was silent for a long while, then said quietly, “Who told you there wasn’t?”

Wen Jing froze. Had she overlooked something?

“Please, Senior Zhongsun, enlighten me.”

“Two years ago, there was another murder case much like the one involving the Shen family,” Zhongsun Yan said.

“Then why did I not find it in the case records?”

Zhongsun Yan smiled, a little bitterly. “That case was filed among the solved cases. You may not have had time to look.”

Wen Jing could not quite understand what he meant. Could it be that the murderer was not the same person?

“The manner of death in the two cases was extremely similar. A suspect was caught back then as well, but he only admitted to the case from two years ago, and then he died in prison. As for whether he was the murderer from five years ago, no one knows,” Zhongsun Yan said with a sigh.

Wen Jing’s expression grew increasingly grave. For some reason, she felt that the true killer was still at large, and the one who had been arrested might only have been a scapegoat. Five years... two years... was this the killer’s cycle between crimes?