Qi Yue watched as he walked directly to her side and sat down across from her, unable to help but be stunned.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Chang Yuncheng said.

“Then…” she smiled, also sitting down, “you’re probably not used to it yet, having another person in the room.”

“Yes, I’m not used to it,” Chang Yuncheng said, glancing at her.

Qi Yue smiled and said nothing, placing a bookmark in her book and closing it.

“I’m not used to it either, and I’m thinking of solutions. You think about it too, and we can discuss it…” she said thoughtfully.

Perhaps because of the quiet night, the man before her seemed to have a different aura than usual.

Calm, peaceful… peaceful?

Qi Yue couldn’t help but smile. Using this word to describe Chang Yuncheng was truly remarkable.

“What is this?” Chang Yuncheng didn’t respond to her words but suddenly asked.

Qi Yue looked up to see Chang Yuncheng picking up her quill pen, examining it with some curiosity.

“It’s for writing,” Qi Yue said.

Chang Yuncheng was even more curious.

“For writing?” he said, raising his hand to write on the paper on the table.

“Hey, this is for my notes,” Qi Yue said quickly.

Chang Yuncheng had already written on that paper.

The atmosphere became slightly awkward.

“Sorry,” Chang Yuncheng suddenly said.

“It’s fine, I can still write on it… uh… what did you say?” Qi Yue said casually with a smile, then halfway through realized what Chang Yuncheng had said. She stared wide-eyed at the man before her. The candlelight wasn’t very bright, but this face certainly hadn’t changed ownership.

Chang Yuncheng’s ears grew hot under her gaze, and he darkened his expression, throwing the quill pen aside.

Qi Yue looked at him and smiled.

“It’s fine,” she said again.

Chang Yuncheng turned his head to focus on the book.

“Don’t you already know everything? Why are you still reading this?” he asked again.

“Learning is endless, and I really don’t know much,” Qi Yue smiled, while frowning slightly as she looked at the man.

He… was he chatting with her?

“If I’m disturbing you, I’ll stop reading now. You…” she said with a smile, gesturing with her hand.

“Mother and Aunt have a good relationship. You should visit there more often. It’s good, and Mother would be happy too,” Chang Yuncheng said, his gaze remaining on the book.

Actually, whether Madam Xie was happy or not had nothing to do with her.

“Oh, alright,” Qi Yue nodded with a smile.

The two fell into silence.

“It’s getting late…” Qi Yue began, clasping her hands.

Chang Yuncheng also spoke, interrupting her.

“How did you discover that girl’s cause of death was unusual…” he said, then looked embarrassed as soon as the words left his mouth.

Late at night, what kind of topic was this…

Qi Yue was also somewhat stunned but quickly regained her composure.

“I’m a physician, so I’m very familiar with the human body. Besides, there’s a saying that corpses never lie—they’ll tell you everything,” she said with a smile.

Something learned in anatomy class, and having encountered forensic experts in daily life, she had some understanding of these matters.

Chang Yuncheng looked at her and smiled.

“That coroner said the same thing,” he said.

Qi Yue was somewhat surprised and became interested.

“Really?” she leaned forward, “I keep forgetting to ask—what did the coroner say was the cause of A’Jin’s death?”

After all, it wasn’t something glorious. Only Marquis Dingxi and a few others knew the detailed results of the coroner’s examination that day. People like Qi Yue only needed to know that A’Jin had been murdered.

Chang Yuncheng couldn’t help but glance at the flickering candle flame. The north wind was howling against the window lattice, and here they were in the middle of the night discussing such a topic…

However, seeing that woman show genuine interest for the first time in days…

“He said she died of suffocation from being stepped on the throat,” he said.

“Stepped on?” Qi Yue asked with some realization.

Chang Yuncheng demonstrated the motion briefly.

“Like this. While controlling her struggles during the beating, someone took advantage of the chaos to press their foot against her throat,” he said.

Qi Yue made a sound of understanding.

“They certainly thought of everything,” she said, sighing.

The atmosphere immediately became heavy.

“Tell me,” Qi Yue looked up at Chang Yuncheng again, absently flipping through the book in front of her, making rustling sounds, “was it worth it? Why did she do this? Sometimes I think all of your thoughts are quite strange…”

“She always hated my mother,” Chang Yuncheng said. “Because originally, Grandmother and Father intended to marry her.”

Qi Yue looked at him.

“My maternal family didn’t allow it, so she finally entered as a concubine,” Chang Yuncheng said.

“Why bother? Was it true love?” Qi Yue muttered.

“What?” Chang Yuncheng didn’t understand and asked, leaning forward slightly.

“Nothing,” Qi Yue smiled, not wanting to continue this topic. Everyone had their own way of life, worldview, and philosophy—it was impossible to explain clearly.

Chang Yuncheng’s eyes flashed with disappointment as he straightened up.

Qi Yue glanced at the water clock in the room.

“It’s getting…” she began again.

“That coroner…” Chang Yuncheng spoke first again, “is quite impressive.”

“As impressive as Song Ci?” Qi Yue swallowed what she was about to say and asked eagerly.

“Song Ci?” Chang Yuncheng didn’t understand.

“He’s a very skilled coroner who wrote a book called ‘Washing Away of Wrongs.’ It describes many autopsy cases and shows how you can tell how someone died from even a small wound. He’s really amazing,” Qi Yue said with raised eyebrows.

“Really? I haven’t read it,” Chang Yuncheng said. “Even among petty thieves, there are skilled people.”

“How are they petty thieves?” Qi Yue didn’t like hearing this and frowned. “They’re forensic experts who speak for the dead.”

Late at night… this woman was really bold…

Chang Yuncheng coughed.

“Those people are just lowly…” he said.

Qi Yue shrugged. Indeed, the hierarchy of scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants, along with the distinction between good and base people—damn class consciousness.

Being a coroner was indeed a lowly status…

“But that Coffin Boy is quite skilled,” Chang Yuncheng said.

Qi Yue’s eyes lit up.

“Hey? Coffin Boy?” she asked loudly.

Chang Yuncheng was startled by her expression, while feeling somewhat uncomfortable inside. Did she only show interest when talking about other people?

“He’s the child of someone who guards the morgue. Everyone calls him Coffin Boy,” he said.

Qi Yue made a sound of understanding. This seemed similar to Song Ci’s background—could this be Song Ci in a chaotic timeline?

This was a truly capable person. Her eyes were bright. She definitely had to meet him if she got the chance.

“Go make tea,” Chang Yuncheng suddenly felt very unhappy and said.

Qi Yue looked at him.

“What tea at this hour? It’s so late, go sleep quickly,” she said.

She was actually dismissing him! Chang Yuncheng’s expression grew even worse, and he sat without moving.

“I’m not sleepy,” he snorted.

Oh my, Qi Yue looked at him and smiled.

“I’m sleepy,” she said, gesturing invitingly. “Lord, if you’re not sleepy, go sit in your room. Or go out for a walk. I need to sleep.”

It was indeed an illusion—where was the peacefulness from before? As Chang Yuncheng’s expression darkened, the atmosphere became tense.

“This is my room. I’ll be wherever I want to be,” Chang Yuncheng raised his chin, slowly resuming his arrogant demeanor.

Here we go again. Qi Yue looked at him.

“So you want to be here right now?” she asked.

Chang Yuncheng picked up the book on the table and began reading, answering her with his actions.

“Fine, you stay here. I’ll go sleep over there,” Qi Yue said.

You… wouldn’t dare! Chang Yuncheng gritted his teeth but didn’t look up. He heard the woman pick up her bedding and indeed walk away with determined steps. Soon she came back with the bedding and threw it over him.

“You wretched woman!” Chang Yuncheng shouted in embarrassment and anger, pulling off the bedding covering his head and body.

Qi Yue was already laughing heartily as she ran away.

Chang Yuncheng stood up, watching the woman scurry into the bedroom and slam the door shut, with muffled laughter still coming from inside.

“Oh my, what a fool. Such a big bed, such a convenient washroom, such a warm room—only a fool wouldn’t sleep there. I’ll enjoy it instead!”

Chang Yuncheng stared at the bedroom, slowly breaking into a smile that grew wider and wider.

“This wretched woman…” he said quietly, then turned around. Seeing the bedding on the floor, his expression darkened again. “At least make the bed properly for me…”

A’Ru and Qiu Xiang in the courtyard had been carefully watching the light in the room, finally breathing a sigh of relief when it was extinguished.

“Let’s go,” A’Ru said quietly.

The two tiptoed into the servant’s room for the night watch.

The quiet night finally fell asleep.

But at this moment, in the morgue outside the city, a dim yellow lamp was lit, appearing particularly eerie in the howling north wind. If anyone saw it, they would surely wet themselves with fear. Of course, no one came to such a place even during the day, let alone at night.

The lamp stopped at the door, and a withered hand suddenly reached out and knocked on the thin wooden door.

The door creaked open, and lamplight spilled into the room, illuminating rows of thin wooden coffins.

A figure suddenly stood up.

Even though the visitor had been here several times before, he was still startled and his hand trembled, causing the lamplight to flicker dimly.

“You’re here. Come in. We have good goods today,” the figure said.

It was a clear male voice that sounded quite young.

The visitor took a breath and stepped inside. The door closed behind him, and lamps were lit inside the room, making everything clearly visible.

This was a long, continuous room. Besides rows of coffins, there were corpses wrapped only in wooden boards and broken mats without coffins, as well as straw mats waiting for bodies to be placed on them. Though it was winter, there was still the smell of decay in the air.

The visitor’s gaze moved away from those corpses and toward the innermost area, where a long wooden bed was placed. Someone was lying on it—of course, no living person would be lying here—but sitting beside it was a living person.

He had his back to the visitor and was busy with something, making slurping sounds.

“Wait a moment, let me finish my noodles,” he said, turning around.

It was the same person who had opened the door.

He was only about twenty-three or twenty-four years old, with regular, delicate features. Perhaps because of his environment, his face was covered with a layer of cold gloom.

A noodle hung from the corner of his mouth, and as he spoke, it slurped into his mouth like a wriggling earthworm.

“Doctor Wang, today’s subject was beaten to death with clubs. Would you like to see what the internal organs of someone beaten to death look like?” He grinned, showing white teeth as he looked at the visitor.

The visitor was a man of about fifty with graying hair and beard, wearing a hat and an elegant cotton robe. He finally steadied his nerves and suddenly blew out the lamp in his hand.

“Excellent. I was just wanting to see this. Thank you, Coffin Boy,” he said.