Cui Nong’s body was carried to the side annex of the rear service building for temporary storage. Her family lived in the countryside and couldn’t arrive quickly, though word had already been sent as soon as the matter arose, on Master Yan’s orders.

In a grand household like this, the occasional death of a maid or manservant was ordinarily a minor affair — but Shun Cheng’s newly enacted Laws of Shun Cheng stipulated in plain writing that any death must be reported to the local Jinlin Guard. Those who concealed such matters would face a murder charge.

Because the annex now housed a dead body, the servants gave it a wide berth. The rear service building, usually bustling, had fallen into an eerie stillness.

When Jing Zhi stepped inside, a black dog leaped out from somewhere, giving her such a fright that her soul nearly left her body. Fortunately Murong, just behind her, grabbed her in time to prevent a tumble.

Murong said with a trace of disdain, “A dog scared you like that?”

Jing Zhi pressed her hand hard against her chest, breathing out rapidly. “It’s not the dog — it’s that there’s a dead person here, and freshly dead at that. The soul hasn’t been put to rest yet.”

“She was murdered,” Yan Qing said quietly, wheeling herself toward the annex. “Naturally she cannot rest.” Murong hurried to follow and help push.

When they pushed open the wooden door of the annex, a wave of stale, putrid air rushed out, nearly suffocating. Sunlight filtered through the decrepit windows, and dust motes drifted through the air.

Jing Zhi clapped a hand over her nose. “This place is filthy.”

The annex served as a storage space for old discarded items and had long gone untended, slowly becoming a dilapidated dump with an unpleasant smell.

Cui Nong’s body lay on an equally decrepit wooden table, covered with a cheap white cloth.

When she saw Yan Qing calmly lift the white cloth, Jing Zhi immediately turned her head away, pressed her palms together, and began murmuring a string of Buddhist prayers. Murong, braver than her, watched with curiosity and asked, “Miss, how do you know Cui Nong was murdered?”

“Murong, remove her clothing first.” Yan Qing handed her a pair of gloves. “Put these on.”

“Yes.” Murong took the gloves and put them on, then steeled herself and stripped off Cui Nong’s garments. When she pulled off the checkered trousers, she couldn’t help holding her nose. “It smells terrible.”

Jing Zhi asked, “She only just died — why would she already smell?”

“This isn’t the smell of decomposition. It’s from losing control of the bladder and bowels. People who die of asphyxiation almost always experience that.”

The body had been submerged in water, which meant the odor was relatively mild compared to what it might have been.

When the unclothed body came into view, both maids couldn’t help flushing, even among themselves. Yet Yan Qing looked on with perfect composure, as though thoroughly accustomed to the sight.

Yan Qing had Murong turn the body over and examine it from behind, then said quietly, “No open wounds on the body surface, no subcutaneous hemorrhaging. Death was not caused by external physical force.”

She put on the gloves, took hold of Cui Nong’s right hand, and studied the pale, slender forearm. “Look at this — what do you see?”

“An abrasion, I think.” Murong looked closely. There was a faint area of skin stripping on Cui Nong’s forearm. “The well is four meters deep and the walls are built from stone. If you jumped in from above, you’d definitely scrape against jutting rocks.”

Yan Qing gave an approving nod. “These are indeed abrasions. However, they formed after death.”

“After death?”

“Look at the area around these wounds — no obvious bleeding or swelling.” Seeing that Murong didn’t quite follow, Yan Qing patiently explained further. “Wounds formed on a living body will bleed, will gape open, will develop concurrent inflammation. This is called a vital reaction. Conversely, injuries sustained by a body after death will show none of these signs. Determining whether wounds on a body were sustained before or after death is key to establishing the nature of a case.”

Murong’s mind worked quickly. Her eyes lit up immediately. “Miss, I understand now. Because Cui Nong’s abrasion has no vital reaction, it means she was already dead when she went into the water. Even if she scraped against the stone walls of the well, the wound wouldn’t bleed or become inflamed.”

“A dead person can’t jump into a well on their own — so, Miss, you used whether this abrasion had that vital reaction to determine she was killed. Is that right?” Jing Zhi had grown genuinely interested in the exchange and cut in eagerly, claiming credit.

Yan Qing smiled slightly. “You’re both correct. Jing Zhi, take notes.”

Jing Zhi didn’t dare disobey her mistress, and despite her fear, she stiffened her spine and drew out the paper and pen she’d prepared beforehand, recording with trembling hands.

“Deceased: female, height 165 centimeters, age 17.” Yan Qing picked up Cui Nong’s right foot and gently manipulated the joints several times. A look of contemplation passed through her eyes.

—