Chapter Eighty-One: Rejection and Duty

Wearing an embarrassed expression, the old head physician reported to His Majesty, “Your Majesty, the locust flowers bloom in May, their fragrance filling the gardens. Lord Grand Minister's constitution cannot tolerate the pollen; he has displayed a natural allergic reaction and is now asleep.”

The old emperor was silent.

An abrupt thunderclap, a minor allergic reaction—together, they shattered her “Heaven-bestowed Sacred Plan,” and nearly drove her to a bloodbath. She had, after all, overthought things. But the incident had become a joke, indelibly etched.

The emperor no longer wished to see that piece of jade, nor did she want to see Wu Chengsi. She ordered both to be carried away and placed somewhere out of sight.

At the same time, she issued a decree: Wu Chengsi was stripped of his position as Prime Minister and ordered to stay home and reflect on his conduct.

As for Di Ying, the emperor decided she did not want to see him for the time being either, and notified him that he need not attend court for three months.

Di Ying gladly received the decree.

He prepared to depart for Ping'an County.

Ping'an County, under the jurisdiction of Qizhou, lay thirty li from the capital. The county was surrounded by mountains, their peaks steep and treacherous.

Within the backlog of cases Di Ying inherited, several had occurred in Ping'an County.

One such case took place in a mountain valley within the county.

Last year, on the second day of October.

The victim: Han Lixing, male, aged twenty-five, robust and healthy, a shepherd by trade.

On that day, Han Lixing, as usual, led his flock into the valley to graze.

Suddenly, he died.

The sheepdog, sensing something amiss with its master, ran home to alert the family. When the family followed the dog to the valley, the sheep were still grazing, but Han Lixing was lifeless.

The family reported the matter to the authorities.

The county coroner examined the body and determined that Han Lixing had been murdered—struck on the head with a heavy object, dying at noon.

Yet there were no clues about the killer.

Everything in the valley was normal; not a trace was left behind, not even the keen-nosed, alert sheepdogs showed any signs of tracking the perpetrator.

The magistrate of Ping'an County, Zhang Jian, declared it a cold case and submitted it to the Ministry of Justice.

The Ministry found nothing, so they passed it to the Court of Judicial Review.

And thus, it landed in Di Ying’s hands.

Upon reading the case file, Di Ying refused to believe in such mystery.

He firmly believed: wherever a crime is committed, traces will remain.

Whether these traces are discovered depends firstly on skill, secondly on method, and thirdly on how much diligence the investigator is willing to expend.

Barely a few li beyond the west city gate, Di Ying and his party encountered Song Wen.

From Song Wen’s demeanor, it seemed he had been waiting deliberately, and for quite some time.

Di Ying asked him, “You’re newly appointed, jumping from a fourth-rank to a second-rank official. What makes you run out here like this?”

Song Wen’s manner gave Di Ying every reason to believe he wanted to follow him to solve cases. Waiting here in advance was simply to avoid attention.

“What’s there to think about?” Song Wen turned his horse to ride alongside Di Ying. “I used to be a ‘nice guy’—got along with everyone, but now that I’ve been promoted, everyone expects me to invite them to banquets. There’s no real work. For a month, it's been endless social events, exhausting and full of intrigue. It’s maddening. Far better to follow you, investigate cases, examine bodies—that’s truly invigorating.”

Di Ying said, “...Are you interested in autopsy work now?”

“Exactly, exactly,” Song Wen nodded vigorously. “You’re truly remarkable, Lord Di. You guessed it! You must teach me well. I’ll study harder than I did for the imperial exams.”

He added, “I’ll give it my all, you can count on me.”

Di Ying replied, “You should first teach Peng Liang’s team of guards how to draw portraits. Get those children’s faces down; it’ll help find their families.”

The veterans at “All Roads Open” coach station came from every corner of the realm, and their comrades were everywhere. Parents who truly loved their children, when faced with their disappearance, would commission portraits and plaster them across the city.

With portraits in hand, and distributed through the coach station to comrades across the land, comparisons would help the children quickly find their way home.

Now, those children, traumatized and abused, suffered various psychological and emotional issues.

Di Ying arranged for some disabled veterans to care for them in the mountain caves—helping them exercise, teaching them to play, and instructing them in reading and writing.

When the children’s conditions improved, they could be returned home, where safety and happiness awaited—not only for the children themselves, but for their parents and their families.

“All right, that’s simple. Leave it to me,” Song Wen nodded again, then chased after Di Ying, “We can do both. You can’t keep your knowledge to yourself.”

Di Ying glanced at him, calm as ever. “You want to learn mainly because you fear exposing your ignorance before His Majesty. It’s not difficult; memorize a few of my autopsy reports and you can muddle through.”

Song Wen said, “...Are you dismissing me, or your own skills?”

He hesitated, then added with awe, “You have no idea how extraordinary you are. Those charred, sticky, foul-smelling, terrifying corpses—under your fingers, all their past lives are revealed, as if... as if they were still alive.

One can see them, hear them... it’s truly miraculous.

When I recited your autopsy reports in the Golden Throne Hall, it was as if the scene materialized before my eyes.

It felt as though I had touched, seen, smelled, examined them myself.

It gave me immense confidence.

Honestly, I didn’t just recover my composure; I felt transformed, reborn.

It was incredible.

Only by truly mastering the skill can I be a good official. I am utterly certain of this.

So you must not refuse me.”

Hearing this, Di Ying’s expression became solemn.

He replied gravely, “The art of the coroner is to serve the living, and speak for the dead. Every error or omission is unacceptable. I am not miraculous; I am merely fulfilling my duty. Do not treat it as wizardry.”

He paused and added, “It is not accomplished in a day. Once the case in Ping'an County is resolved, you must return to your post. That is your duty.”

“At your command!” At this moment, Song Wen, whose rank exceeded Di Ying’s, earnestly clasped his hands and bowed deeply from horseback.

Lord Di, Song Wen was willing to follow him for life.

…

On the night of May 23rd.

The daytime heat had dissipated entirely; a cool wind swept through the valley, rustling the leaves.

The moon had withdrawn, stars were sparse, and the earth was shrouded in darkness.

On both sides of the valley, atop sheer cliffs, leaves blown by the wind drifted down, taking their time before reaching the bottom and settling in the valley.

They did not disturb the nocturnal creatures below.

A pack of wolves roamed.