Upon seeing the gesture, Shen Ling'er placed the sandalwood medicine box she was carrying on the empty square table beside her.
The bottom of the wooden crate hit the hardwood tabletop with a dull thud.
Instead of opening the box, she pulled out a white linen towel from her sleeve that had been repeatedly boiled in medicinal liquid.
She wrapped the face mask behind her head with both hands and tied it into a tight knot, completely covering her mouth and nose, leaving only her bright, expressive eyes visible.
Gan Lingmu stared intently at the medicine box, his hands, clasped inside his sleeves, involuntarily breaking out in a cold sweat.
He had thought that Gu Moran would bring up the law, or simply put on his princely airs and try to force her to comply.
But this man didn't waste a single word and immediately ordered an autopsy to be performed.
This approach is too bizarre.
With a click, Shen Ling'er unlocked the medicine box.
She first brought out a small red clay stove, about the size of a palm, and placed it steadily on the blue brick floor.
Then he picked out a few pieces of silver-thread charcoal, blew on them with a tinderbox, and the charcoal glowed with a deep blue light in an instant, without producing a trace of choking smoke. It was clearly a high-quality, smokeless charcoal of tribute grade.
She placed a small earthenware pot on the stove and began to pour things into it.
A bamboo tube of aged, strong liquor, half a bottle of pungent, sour black vinegar, and finally a handful of crushed scallions and magnolia flowers, all dumped into the pot.
The earthenware pot was bubbling away, and in less than the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea, the bottom of the pot was boiling.
An intensely strong, overpowering sour and spicy aroma, mixed with the pungent kick of strong liquor, instantly filled the entire lobby.
The odor assaulted everyone's nostrils, shattering the nauseating stench of death into pieces.
Gan Lingmu was overwhelmed by the pungent smell, his throat itched and he coughed twice, his eyes stinging with acid.
Zhao Wuxu couldn't take it anymore, and staggered back three big steps, clutching his nose.
Si Renyou, sitting at the head of the table, silently turned his head, the veins on the back of his thin hand bulging.
Only Shen Ling'er stood by the stove, holding a long wooden spoon, methodically stirring the paste in the pot.
She waited until the soup had simmered into a thick, dark brown broth before placing the spoon on the edge of the pot.
Gu Moran stood to the side with his hands behind his back, his hands hidden inside his dark cloak.
He turned his head and looked down at the woman huddled in the corner.
"Lift the cloth, take off your clothes."
The four words were uttered without the slightest inflection, yet the hall fell silent instantly, with only the sound of breathing remaining. Everyone could sense the death knell hidden within those four words.
The woman trembled, looking at Gu Moran with terrified eyes, then turned to look at Si Renyou at the head of the table.
Finally, he went crazy and scrambled forward, spreading his arms to block the stretcher, refusing to move an inch.
"Absolutely not! That would be a terrible sin!"
The woman screamed until her voice cracked.
"My husband died a miserable death from this strange disease. How could he be stripped naked in court after his death!"
You upright officials, you can't leave a man with no remains after his death!
Seeing this, Zhao Wuxu caught his breath, thinking he had the upper hand, and stubbornly jumped out again.
" Your Prince Yi! This is a plague-stricken corpse; touching it will result in death!"
Instead of summoning an official coroner, you've sent a woman here to brew some wicked and sinister elixirs!
If this cloth is lifted and the plague spreads throughout the hall, who will be held responsible for the deaths of these dozens of people?!
Gu Moran didn't even glance at him out of the corner of his eye.
"Noisy." He uttered two words through his lips.
She glanced at him again.
"Who gives you the right to tell my men what to do?"
Before he could finish speaking, Xue Huan, who was waiting outside the door, strode in.
He strode closer, grabbed Zhao Wuxu by the back of his neck and collar with one hand, tightened his grip, and yanked him backward!
With a scream of pain, Zhao Wuxu's over 100-pound body flew out and slammed solidly onto the heavy mahogany threshold with a dull thud.
It rolled down the steps along the door panel, collapsing to the ground like a rag doll, unable to turn over for a long time.
The lobby fell completely silent.
Xue Huan clapped his hands, turned around, and kicked the woman blocking the stretcher away.
He then bent down, pinched a corner of the coarse white linen cloth, and with a sudden pull of his wrist, tore it open.
With a rustling sound, the white sheet fell to the ground, completely exposing the upper half of the corpse to the air.
The deceased's face was ashen, and his lips were black.
From the chest to the waist, large patches of dark, bruised lividity stretched out.
To anyone who looked at it, this was a scene of utter devastation, a disease that had penetrated to the bone and left the body utterly corrupt.
Shen Ling'er neither dodged nor avoided the pot, carrying the scalding hot wine and vinegar lees straight forward.
She scooped up a spoonful of steaming mud and slapped it onto the corpse's left rib without hesitation.
With a sizzling sound, the scalding hot mud scalded the cold, dead skin, sending up a plume of white smoke with a strong, sour smell.
Shen Ling'er's technique was extremely steady and fast; in just a few strokes, she had covered the corpse's left rib with a thick layer of mud.
"Wait until an incense stick burns."
Gu Moran uttered four words, turned around and walked to the armchair to the side. He lifted his cloak and sat down with an air of grandeur.
This short time, equivalent to the burning of an incense stick, felt exceptionally long in the deathly silent hall.
Si Renyou kept his eyes closed and remained motionless.
Zhao Wuxu, who was outside the door, had already been helped up by the yamen runners. He was clutching his waist and only dared to glare venomously into the hall.
Gan Lingmu stood there, a chill running down his spine.
That initial confidence in having the whole situation shattered the moment I smelled the stench of vinegar and lees.
The water clock drips again.
The remaining liquid in the earthenware pot had completely solidified into a hard lump.
Shen Ling'er glanced at the table.
The incense ash broke off with a sound, and the last spark of fire went out.
She picked up a basin of warm water, soaked a piece of coarse linen in it, wrung it out, and walked to the corpse.
Press the coarse cloth onto the dried and cracked clay shell and rub it down hard.
The dark brown mud crust was peeled off in one piece.
On the corpse's originally bluish-gray left rib area, a large, shocking purplish-black mark was suddenly revealed!
That was definitely not the lividity of stagnant blood after death; the edges of this purplish-black mark showed the radial spiderweb pattern that only appears when someone is struck hard in life.
At the very center of the mark, a broken bone was inserted at an odd angle, only missing a thin layer of green skin.
Gan Lingmu instinctively stretched his neck, but the moment he saw the strange thing, his neck froze, and a layer of white sweat broke out on his back.
That was a rib that had been broken by external force!
Gu Moran stood up from the chair.
He walked to the stretcher, but without touching the body, he took a clean, long wooden stick from Xue Huan's hand.
The tip of the stick gently touched the purplish-black bruise.
"Is this lividity or blood stasis?" Gu Moran ignored everyone else and fixed his gaze on the woman's face.
The woman collapsed to the ground, trembling violently, her teeth chattering, unable to utter a single word.
Gu Moran didn't intend to wait for her answer.
He held the wooden stick and, following the direction of the broken ribs, drew a line on the deceased's skin.
"If someone dies suddenly from the disease, the blood will sink to the bottom, and lividity should form on the back and buttocks."
"However, this bruise is located on the left rib, where the blood has stagnated and is not dissipating."
These two sentences were clear and distinct, reaching the ears of all the yamen runners. The runners holding water and fire sticks on both sides exchanged glances, and no one dared to breathe loudly anymore.
Who would have thought that the pampered Prince Yi would know how to perform autopsies!
The tip of the stick struck the sharp, protruding angle with a dull thud.
"The fifth rib on the left side was broken with a blunt object, and the broken bone pierced through the lung lobe."
Gu Moran threw the wooden stick aside. "He didn't die of a sudden fever on the kang (heated brick bed); he was pierced through the lung by a broken bone and drowned in his own blood."
Fang Bi was recording, his pen trembled, and a drop of ink fell onto the paper, spreading into a black stain.
Gu Moran turned around, his gaze fixed on the kneeling woman, and did not look away.
"This person died from severe injuries sustained in a fight three days ago."
"I'm curious, how did a dead person with a punctured lung manage to sign for Tailwind Express package? Did it happen through a dream?"
The woman let out a desperate sob and collapsed completely onto the blue bricks.
"How... how did you know?"