This place was remote and far from any road, surrounded on all sides by the vast poplar forest. Foot traffic was sparse — an inn had no business being here.

Shi Ting thought for a moment. “I have actually heard of this inn. It is meant for mushroom pickers and anglers.”

He gestured toward the broad expanse of forest around them. “This poplar forest produces an abundance of wild mushrooms called oil mushrooms. They have a smooth, tender texture and an exceptional flavor, and are said to have anti-aging properties as well. Every year when the mushrooms ripen, people come from all around to harvest them. The family who runs the inn are mushroom pickers themselves — they eat and sleep out here all year long, and they saw an opportunity to earn extra income, so they simply converted their home into an inn. That said, mushrooms generally ripen in autumn. Any that have come up now are small and not worth much.”

“So the innkeeper just turned their livelihood into a side business — quite clever of them. Besides mushroom pickers, they also have anglers who can stay here.” Yan Qing said with a trace of regret. “Had I known there was an inn here, we would not have had to make do at the grandfather’s cottage last night. I could see you were restless the whole night.”

“You woke up during the night?” Shi Ting’s deep eyes turned toward her.

Yan Qing immediately felt embarrassed and quickly changed the subject. “You knew there was an inn here — why did you not say so earlier?”

Shi Ting looked quite innocent. “I had only heard of it. I did not expect it to actually be here, and besides, the forest is so large I was not certain of its location.”

“Shall we go over and have a look — ask the innkeeper about things?”

“All right.”

It was not mushroom season, and the inn was quiet and deserted. A somewhat heavyset middle-aged man sat at the entrance, fanning himself with a palm-leaf fan and sunning himself.

Hearing footsteps, he opened his eyes, sat up with a smile, and said, “You two — checking in? Affordable, clean, and good value.”

Shi Ting replied, “We are not here to stay. We are just passing through and having a look around.”

Seeing the innkeeper settle back again with an air of indifference, Shi Ting reached into his pocket and produced a cigarette, holding it out to him. “Innkeeper, I was hoping to ask you about someone.”

The innkeeper took one look at the elegant packaging of the cigarette, then glanced at the brand, and immediately rubbed his hands on his trousers before accepting it, breaking into a beaming smile. “There is nothing that goes on within a ten-mile radius that I do not know about. Ask away — ask anything you like.”

Yan Qing glanced around at the endless stretch of forest, suppressing a quiet laugh. Within ten miles there was not another household in sight — what could he possibly know beyond the comings and goings of birds and beasts?

“Do you know Shunzi?” Shi Ting produced a lighter. The innkeeper quickly cupped both hands around the flame to block the wind and lit the cigarette.

“Shunzi?” The innkeeper took a puff. “Shunzi is dead.”

“Dead?” Both of them were startled.

“That is right. I do not know which scoundrel killed him, but his skull was completely caved in. When I found him, there was brain matter all over the ground. I felt sorry for the poor thing, so I dug a hole and buried him. What a shame.”

Yan Qing was indignant. “Why did you not report it to the authorities?”

“Report it? To whom?” The innkeeper looked entirely blank. “Why would I report it?”

Yan Qing had been about to lament the man’s complete lack of legal awareness when Shi Ting caught her eye with a quick blink. “I understand.”

He raised his head and looked at the two-story wooden building before them. It was a structure of rough workmanship, with several windows on the upper floor facing the sun, all standing open.

Out in the inn’s courtyard, a variety of clothing hung drying — both men’s and women’s garments.

“Innkeeper, you have guests staying here?”

“That is right. A group of mushroom pickers arrived a few days ago and said they would be staying for a week.”

“It is not mushroom season. Why would anyone be picking mushrooms now?”

The innkeeper leaned in and said in a lowered voice with a note of contempt, “A bunch of city folk with no sense, young ones — they have no idea mushrooms only ripen in autumn. Right now you would not see a mushroom’s shadow anywhere, and even if you happened to stumble across one, it would not be edible. But if they want to stay, I am not going to drive them away. Who turns down free money?”

Shi Ting offered the innkeeper another cigarette. The man accepted it with a delighted smile. “Thank you kindly. I have only ever seen this brand in newspaper advertisements — I never dared to dream of actually having one. They must cost a fortune.”

“Innkeeper, one last question — where did you bury Shunzi?”

The innkeeper pointed behind the building with one hand. “Keep walking that way until you see a red-barked poplar. I buried Shunzi under that tree.”

“Could I borrow a hoe?”

“It is right behind the door. Help yourself — just remember to bring it back when you are done.” The innkeeper, thoroughly pleased, tucked the cigarette behind his ear, unwilling to smoke it just yet.

After Shi Ting pushed Yan Qing away from the inn, she could not help asking, “This is a murder case, is it not? From the innkeeper’s description, Shunzi was beaten to death.”

Shi Ting answered the question with a question of his own. “Let us find the red-barked poplar first.”

“I thought all poplars had white bark. I have never heard of a red-barked one.”

“I noticed there is red moss growing on the ground here. It has probably spread up onto the bark of one of the trees, making it look red-barked from a distance.”

The two of them wound their way through the white poplar forest for quite some time before finally finding a red-barked poplar tree. Just as Shi Ting had surmised, dense patches of moss — the kind that usually grew on the ground — had blanketed the tree’s bark so thoroughly that from a distance it appeared to be wrapped in a layer of red skin.

“The soil here is loose and shows signs of having been turned over.” Shi Ting took up the hoe. “Shunzi must be buried here.”

With the prospect of encountering a corpse, Yan Qing’s heart hung suspended with dread. What kind of person could be so ruthless as to beat someone to death and then leave the body out in the wild?

The innkeeper had not buried the remains very deep, so after only a few strokes of the hoe, a length of bone was exposed.

The bone was still wrapped in a layer of skin — skin that had already decayed and gave off a pungent stench.

As Shi Ting drove the hoe down once more, the full extent of the bone came into view. Clinging to it was a patch of yellow fur.

“This is…” Yan Qing was stunned.

Shi Ting brought the remains fully out of the ground, and what had been the missing Shunzi was at last revealed in its entirety.

“Did we make a mistake, or did the innkeeper?” Yan Qing could barely trust her own eyes. “This is a dog.”

Shi Ting wiped the sweat from his brow and crouched down to brush the mud from the dog’s head. “I paid close attention to the old man’s cottage. The clothing, the shoes — all of it was only one size. Even the bedding was a single set. This meant he lived alone most of the time. Do you remember the bowl beneath the window? If I am not mistaken, that was Shunzi’s food bowl — the old man set out his meals there every day. Shunzi was an old dog that had lived with the old man, and the old man called him his son out of affection.”

He pried open the dog’s mouth. “Look at how worn these teeth are. I would estimate he was about seventeen or eighteen years old. In human terms, that is already a ripe old age.”

“Who could be so cruel as to kill even a dog?” Yan Qing frowned. “The skull is fractured — it was likely beaten to death with a blunt iron implement.”

She glanced at the hoe beside her. “The weapon looks like it could have been a hoe. Could the innkeeper have done it?”

Shi Ting shook his head. “When I asked about Shunzi, the innkeeper’s expression was completely natural — no sign of concealment. If he had killed the dog himself, he would not have told us where it was buried. Besides, this dog must have been well acquainted with the innkeeper. It probably used to come to the inn to play all the time. The innkeeper knew it belonged to the old forest warden and buried it out of kindness.”

“Let us bring Shunzi back,” Yan Qing said, moved with sympathy. “Let the grandfather deal with him properly, so he does not lie awake thinking about it. Shunzi was already very old — the grandfather should know he could not have lived much longer.”

“All right.” Shi Ting braced against the sharp stench and hauled Shunzi up out of the pit.

The heavy rain the day before had drenched the earth, and Shunzi’s body was coated in wet mud. The mud made Shunzi both heavy and sodden, and Shi Ting had to exert considerable effort to pull the whole body free.

As Shunzi was lifted out, the bottom of the pit was exposed — and there lay a stark white bone.

Yan Qing’s sharp eyes caught it at once. “Shi Ting, there is something else down there.”

Shi Ting set Shunzi’s remains to one side, and rather than using the hoe, he leaned over the edge of the pit and used his bare hands to brush away the mud clinging to the surface. A complete set of ribs was revealed.

The two exchanged a glance.

Yan Qing said, “By the size and number, those look like human ribs.”

She looked around. “There are no burial grounds in this forest. These bones are almost certainly suspicious.”

Shi Ting went back to the inn and borrowed a spade from the innkeeper, who was eager to help but was politely declined.

Something told Shi Ting the existence of this body was not a simple matter.

The earth was wet and soft, and the digging did not go smoothly. To preserve the integrity of the bones, Shi Ting moved with care and deliberation at every step.

He dug for two hours. By now the sun hung directly overhead, beating down its heat. The June weather was growing steadily warmer, and sweat had soaked through Shi Ting’s clothing entirely.

Yan Qing took out her handkerchief and maneuvered her wheelchair to his side. His hands were covered in mud and not free, so she wiped the sweat from his face herself.

Shi Ting looked at her, his gaze gentle. “Go sit in the shade. You will get heatstroke.”

“It is fine. I will stay with you.”

Another half hour passed, and Shi Ting finally unearthed a complete skeleton — unmistakably human, and fully skeletonized.

The bones lay at the bottom of the pit arranged in the form of a human figure.

The clothing wrapped around the skeleton had rotted to rags, coated all over in mud.

“Shi Ting, hand me the skull.”

“Here.” Shi Ting reached in and brought up the skull, handing it to Yan Qing.

She examined it carefully and reached her conclusion. “The deceased was male. The skull is intact. The third molars have not fully erupted and the first molars show minimal wear, putting the deceased’s age at somewhere between twenty-one and twenty-three years old.”

She looked down into the pit. “The superior horns of the thyroid cartilage are fractured. The deceased was most likely strangled. The burial pit is approximately one meter deep. The local climate is dry with distinct seasons. Given the complete skeletonization of the body, I estimate the time of death was approximately two to three years ago.”

Estimating time of death from a fully skeletonized body is the most difficult of all assessments — it is nearly impossible to narrow the margin of error to a few months.

Yan Qing explained further. “Under ideal conditions, a body can fully skeletonize in as little as two to four weeks — faster in summer, slower in winter. A body buried beneath a layer of soil takes considerably longer, depending on the depth of burial and the climate. The shallower the burial, the faster the skeletonization.”

Shi Ting sorted through the deceased’s clothing. “More precisely, the time of death was most likely in the winter of two years ago.”

—