Chapter 28: The True Cause of Death

After Leng Xiangning’s death, the Flower Moon Palace was left leaderless. Leng Aoshuang, as her aunt, took on the responsibility of guiding the palace. Dragging her wounded body, she made arrangements for the palace’s members and ordered the release of all scholars imprisoned in the hidden stone cells, entrusting them to Lu Ziqing to be brought back to Yunzhou City.

She had done all she could for those scholars, saving their lives. As for the lingering effect this ordeal might have on them, she was powerless to help further.

Afterward, she entered the palace’s ice chamber, where Leng Xiangning’s remains lay. There, Shen Qianmo and Situ Gong were examining the corpse.

Shen Qianmo suspected Leng Xiangning had died unnaturally. Judging by her behavior before death, she seemed afflicted by mania and delusions—in short, she was somewhat deranged. Since such symptoms could be drug-induced, Shen Qianmo had called Situ Gong to assist in the examination.

Upon seeing Leng Aoshuang enter, Shen Qianmo nodded to her and asked, “Miss Leng, was the palace mistress always so irritable and prone to mistaking people before her death?”

Leng Aoshuang shook her head in denial. “No, my sister was not like this at first. She used to be gentle, elegant, and deeply principled. Even when Tao Zhirui, that shameless scoundrel, deceived her and abandoned her, she never acted out; she merely grieved in solitude.”

Tao Zhirui—could this be the “Rui Lang” Leng Xiangning spoke of in her delirium?

Sensing Shen Qianmo’s curiosity, Leng Aoshuang continued, “Tao Zhirui once shared a romance with my sister. Back then, he was a poor scholar who, while gathering herbs in the mountains, was bitten by a venomous snake. My sister saved him, brought him to the palace, and nursed him back to health. Over time, affection blossomed, and they pledged themselves to each other.

That year, Tao Zhirui was about to head to the capital for the imperial exams. He promised to marry my sister once he achieved high honors. She waited here faithfully for his return, but he never came back, nor did any word reach her. A year ago, he returned home in glory, newly appointed as Yunzhou’s prefect. My sister, overjoyed, went to find him, only to discover he had already married—a noblewoman, the county princess. They were newlyweds, deeply in love, and he refused to acknowledge my sister at all.”

Leng Aoshuang paused, her heart aching for her sister. She had always seen through Tao Zhirui’s honeyed words, but her sister had been too enamored to heed any warning. If only she’d been more insistent, perhaps her sister’s fate would not have ended in such tragedy.

“Chen Shimei!” Shen Qianmo blurted out. Seeing the confusion in Leng Aoshuang’s and Situ Gong’s eyes, she realized they probably didn’t know the story of Chen Shimei. She laughed awkwardly and explained, “It’s just—there was once a man named Chen Shimei who became a top scholar, married a princess, and abandoned his wife and children. To silence his wife, who tried to seek justice at the magistrate’s office, he even sent assassins after them. Compared to him, Tao Zhirui is almost mild.”

“There are truly such despicable men in this world?” Leng Aoshuang, sheltered in the Flower Moon Palace, was simple-hearted. Hearing of Chen Shimei’s deeds, she was astonished. Compared to Chen Shimei’s wife, her own sister’s suffering seemed almost light.

“The human heart is the most inscrutable thing on earth. So, Miss Leng, you need not blame yourself too much for your sister’s misfortune.” Shen Qianmo was not adept at comforting others, but she did her best.

Though her tone was gentle, Leng Aoshuang felt the subtle reassurance in her words and was quietly moved. Before her stood a plainly dressed woman, face unadorned, with delicate features marred by a scar. Yet her gentle composure and calm serenity evoked an involuntary fondness.

Leng Aoshuang gave Shen Qianmo a grateful glance and continued, “If I had to say when my sister began to change, it would be after the fire at Baoning Temple. That day, for reasons unknown, a great blaze broke out. Tao Zhirui and his wife perished in the flames. At first, I thought my sister had set the fire, but seeing her clutching Tao Zhirui’s charred body, weeping in anguish, I knew she hadn’t. Perhaps it was retribution—he did betray her, after all.

But afterward, my sister’s temperament slowly changed. At first, she became irritable, quick to anger; then, she grew cruel and bloodthirsty, hating all scholars. The scholars imprisoned in the stone cells were secretly captured by her order. The disobedient ones she killed without hesitation, tossing their bodies into the Brahma Melody Forest to be eaten by beasts. No amount of persuasion from me could sway her; it only provoked her fury and worsened the scholars’ plight.”

A sudden change in temperament always has a cause, whether external or internal. Shen Qianmo considered that Tao Zhirui’s death might be an external trigger for Leng Xiangning’s transformation, but it did not explain her sudden death by vomiting blood.

Was there a deeper, internal cause? Yet, her examination of the corpse had revealed no signs of poisoning. What, then, had caused her death?

She turned to Situ Gong. “Did you find anything?”

Situ Gong shook his head. “I am at a loss.”

It was not that Situ Gong was incompetent; nothing unusual could be seen from the surface of the corpse, nor could the cause of death be determined. So what had killed Leng Xiangning?

Shen Qianmo glanced at Leng Aoshuang’s pale face. Would a request for an autopsy frighten her? But now, with the truth so close, to give up would be to betray her own professional ethic and the duty owed to the deceased.

She decided to try and asked Leng Aoshuang for permission to perform an autopsy.

Leng Aoshuang’s eyes widened in shock. As she understood it, autopsies were the work of government coroners. The mere fact that this graceful lady could examine her sister’s corpse without flinching was surprising enough—did she truly know how to perform an autopsy as well?

“Do you not wish to know your sister’s true cause of death?” Shen Qianmo pressed. “Outside stands Lord Lu, the Vice Minister of Justice. The kidnapping and slaughter of innocent scholars by Flower Moon Palace will certainly be investigated. If it can be proven that the palace mistress’s actions were due to other, hidden causes, it might yet clear the palace’s name.”

She spoke the truth. Lu Ziqing, as a high official, would not look the other way. Though the court and the martial world differed, the law remained the law, and as an enforcer, he was obliged to bring justice for the wronged scholars.

“Will an autopsy truly reveal the cause of death?” Leng Aoshuang asked. In her mind, the dead deserved respect. To stand by and watch her sister’s body be cut open required both resolve and courage.

“I cannot guarantee it, but it is our only option now,” Shen Qianmo replied, unwilling to force her but unable to offer any other solution.

“All right. I trust you,” Leng Aoshuang said at last. She was not the sentimental sort. Shen Qianmo’s calm composure inspired her confidence. This woman was extraordinary; otherwise, why would the proud Prince Xuan heed only her counsel?

With Leng Aoshuang’s consent, Shen Qianmo set to work. Though she had no gown, she had a mask, gloves, and scalpel at hand, and Situ Gong would handle the notes. As for Leng Aoshuang, she was asked to leave; Shen Qianmo doubted she could witness her own kin being dissected.

Thus, only she and Situ Gong remained in the ice chamber. After some thought, she decided to summon Lu Ziqing as a witness—the most appropriate choice among them.

Lu Ziqing entered and, seeing Shen Qianmo masked and holding a scalpel, was momentarily stunned. Keen as he was, he instantly realized that the young lady before him, daughter of a noble house, was none other than the enigmatic “Moxin” he had encountered before.

“Miss Shen, you truly are remarkable,” he said, face dark, voice cold. He held himself in high regard, yet had been played so thoroughly by Shen Qianmo that he could hardly show her a pleasant face.

She knew Lu Ziqing was not easily deceived, and that he would surely identify her as Moxin. But she had no time for explanations now. Briefly outlining the situation, she ignored his reaction and bent over the corpse to begin.

After all, as Vice Minister of Justice, it was his duty, was it not?

Lu Ziqing watched her take the scalpel and slice skillfully, her movements clean and precise. Though it was not his first time witnessing her perform an autopsy, now that he knew her to be a woman, the shock he felt was different.

This, he thought with genuine admiration, was the mark of a truly exceptional coroner.

Situ Gong was likewise astonished. As a physician with years of experience, he considered himself well-versed in the world’s ways. Yet faced with this future consort of Prince Xuan, he could not help but be awed by her composure and courage. No wonder the prince was so taken with her—she was indeed unlike any other woman.

Shen Qianmo herself was deeply shocked, for as she opened Leng Xiangning’s chest, she discovered that her death had been caused by a ruptured heart.