Yan Qing raised her hand. “Could someone bring me an autopsy gown and instruments, please?”

“You’re going to perform an autopsy?” E’Yuan’s eyes went wide. “Do you even know how?”

Yan Qing did not answer him. Her focus was entirely on the incomplete remains before her.

To call it a body was something of an overstatement — it was only a torso. The neck, arms, and everything below the abdomen had been cleanly severed. Decomposition had set in, causing the soft tissue around the torso to rot and slough away, releasing wave after wave of nauseating stench.

There were suture marks on the body — clearly from E’Yuan’s earlier examination. E’Yuan grew increasingly agitated. “I already performed the autopsy. I found nothing of note. There is no point repeating the process — it would only be a waste of time.”

“Get her what she needs.” Shi Ting’s tone left no room for argument. “Do exactly as Miss Yan asks, starting now.”

Though E’Yuan was far from willing, he didn’t dare defy Shi Ting’s orders. Grudgingly, he went to retrieve the autopsy gown.

He would like to see for himself what this so-called Sixth Miss could possibly find in a torso that had so little to offer.

The autopsy gowns of this era were crude and rudimentary — nothing like the protective equipment of the modern age. There were certainly no gas masks. Nor were the gowns disposable; they were washed and worn again, washed and worn again. No matter how thoroughly they were laundered and disinfected, they always retained a faint and peculiar odor.

Yan Qing put on the gown, then her mask and gloves. “Dr. E, would you please take notes?”

Feeling the weight of Shi Ting’s authority pressing down on him, E’Yuan had no choice but to remove his gloves, pick up a notepad and pen, and begin recording.

This was Yan Qing’s first proper autopsy since her rebirth. The scalpel in her hand wasn’t the familiar one she knew, but this small, heavy instrument carried its own gravity and solemnity — each incision made concerned whether a life could be vindicated.

After a few moments of silent contemplation before the body, Yan Qing picked up the scalpel. Beginning at the midline of the half-neck that remained on the torso, she made a clean, decisive incision downward along the midline of the chest and abdomen to the navel, cutting through the skin and subcutaneous tissue. With the motion of the blade, the rotting stench surged forward again. The thin mask was wholly inadequate against it.

Even Shi Ting, standing nearby, instinctively furrowed his brow.

But Yan Qing’s expression did not change. Her eyes were calm and resolute, utterly focused on the small piece of remains before her, as if she couldn’t smell a thing.

As she removed the organs one by one and laid them on the autopsy table for careful examination, E’Yuan eventually broke his silence. “The pubic symphysis is absent, the pelvis is absent, the skull and lower limbs are absent — there is no useful information to be extrapolated. You can stare at it all you like and you won’t find anything. This is a complete waste of time.”

E’Yuan wasn’t wrong. The parts of the body most useful for estimating the victim’s age and physical characteristics were entirely missing. But that was only true given the forensic capabilities of this era.

When Yan Qing removed the complete rib cage, her eyes lit up with a glimmer of recognition. That confident, faint smile of hers happened to catch Shi Ting’s eye.

“Found something?” he asked.

“The costal cartilage.” Yan Qing cut away a small piece of bone-like material with her scalpel. “This piece is located at the anterior end of the third and fourth ribs. The internal organs may be incomplete, but fortunately the ribs are intact.”

In the modern world, costal cartilage was frequently harvested for rhinoplasty procedures. It took a certain kind of courage to remove a piece of one’s own rib and have it inserted into one’s nose in the name of beauty.

E’Yuan let out a soft, dismissive sound. “What good is a piece of cartilage? Can it tell you her age? Her height?”

“It can’t tell us her height, but it can give us an estimate of her age.”

Yan Qing carefully sliced a thin section from the costal cartilage, picked it up with forceps, and held it up to the light to examine it.

“Dr. E, please note this down.” She spoke up, apparently having reached a conclusion from her examination.

“The deceased is female, with a normal-sized uterus, no displacement, a round cervical os, and no history of childbirth. Age: under twenty, between nineteen and twenty years old, with nineteen being the more likely estimate — margin of error no greater than one year. Putrefactive vascular network present. Time of death was between the third and fourth of April.”

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