Chapter 33 Autopsy

"The deceased's limbs, torso, and head were intact. There was a fatal wound on the chest, slightly to the left of the heart. The wound was about an inch and a half long."

As he spoke, he asked Cui Fufeng to take out a small clip from the box for him, and then took out a more handy knife, opened the wound on Yu Guangling's chest, and checked for the remaining traces that could barely be found under the rotten flesh.

"The weapon penetrated from the left side of the sternum, breaking the fifth rib, and penetrated about four inches into the heart, stopping the heartbeat instantly. Death occurred within a moment."

The cruel words she heard turned into bloody records written by Qian Deng, forcing her to listen to every word, deeply into her heart, pass through her brain, and then flow out from her fingertips.

Amidst this horrific scene, Ling Tianshui examined the body and sighed, "This murderer's strike was incredibly accurate and powerful. In the rainy, narrow alley, with the victim rushing in, he was able to land the strike with pinpoint accuracy. It was a clean, efficient strike."

Cui Fufeng said, "Meng Lanxi is a gentle scholar, not a fierce veteran like this."

Ling Tianshui didn't answer, but continued to examine the rest of the body. "There's mud and sand under the deceased's fingernails, and his mouth and nose are also contaminated. This must be because he was stabbed and fell facedown in the muddy water, and when he tried to call for help, he coughed into his mouth and lungs."

Having said that, he checked the fatal wound on Yu Guangling's heart again and pondered for a moment.

Qiandeng, who had been concentrating on recording, finally raised his head and looked towards him and towards the place where Yu Guangling's body was, waiting for his next words.

"There is very little mud, sand and water in the wound. It doesn't look like it has been in mud for too long. It is very different from the mouth, nose and nails." Ling Tianshui finally said slowly.

Cui Fufeng thought about it carefully, then turned back to confirm with Qian Deng: "I remember the body was soaked in muddy water, right?"

Qian Deng nodded in affirmation: "Yes, I was there and witnessed it. Yu Guangling's body was lying facedown in the puddle in the alley, with his hands raised to his shoulders, as if he was trying to hold himself up before dying, but..."

"This is an inexplicable oddity." Ling Tianshui examined Yu Guangling's eyes, ears, and feet again, and confirmed, "The body was indeed struggling in the mud puddle before death. The deceased was near death in the puddle until he died. This is certain."

Cui Fufeng questioned, "But, he only had one fatal wound on his body. He died in the mud, and the murderer pulled out the murder weapon and discarded it, but that wound was the only one that had never come into contact with the mud. Isn't that strange?"

"Unless at that time, his wound was protected."

As soon as Ling Tianshui said this, Cui Fufeng and Qian Deng found it unbelievable.

Logically, the murderer who killed Yu Guangling would definitely not have protected his injuries. Yu Guangling was struggling in the mud and water at the time, and tried to prop himself up before dying, so it was even more impossible for him to cover his wounds.

Could it be that there was another person nearby, protecting his wounds and hoping to save him?

"Could it be... Zheng Junshan?" Cui Fufeng blurted out subconsciously, then shook his head and denied it. "Impossible, he wasn't late that day. This means he wasn't in the corridor when Yu Guangling died, let alone trying to save him."

Qian Deng also said: "I remember that he told Shangluo, 'I accidentally discovered the murderer's method of committing the crime, but I didn't know what he was doing at the time.' If he had witnessed the murder scene, he would definitely not say that."

"The method of committing the crime was unknown at the time..." Ling Tianshui seemed to be thinking about something.

"Yes, so the murderer had already made some preparations beforehand, and it's very likely that he was in the alleyway and was seen by Zheng Junshan by chance. I think perhaps his actions are related to the strange phenomenon on the body?"

Qiandeng's judgment made Cui Fufeng nod slightly, thinking it was very likely.

Ling Tianshui's gaze fell on Yu Guangling's body. After examining it for a moment, he asked, "Where is the murder weapon?"

Cui Fufeng came to the charity cemetery today, carrying the murder weapon with him. He took it out and handed it to him.

The dagger is about one foot long including the handle, and the blade is about one and a half inches wide. Because it was fished out of blood and it had been raining for many days, there was a layer of faint rust on the dagger.

Ling Tianshui held the hilt in one hand and the tip in the other, turning it over in his hand and examining it. He said, "This dagger, the fire spikes on the blade haven't been polished yet. The edge is only roughly sharp. The hilt..."

As he spoke, he raised his hand to test the handle and said, "It's not fixed yet. It could come loose at any time. Why would the murderer choose such a weapon?"

"Jin Tang bought this at the blacksmith's shop on the day of the murder. Blacksmith Zhou said that Chang'an was in turmoil and all daggers had already been sold out. This one was originally a semi-finished product, but Jin Tang needed it urgently, so he bought it."

"It seems that the murderer is very strong." Ling Tianshui hit the dagger, listened to the dull sound, and then went to check the wound on Yu Guangling's chest.

He used a clamp to tear open the wound and examine it, then grabbed the largest knife in the box and quickly cut along Yu Guangling's sternum.

The rotten flesh and the putrid water flowed out, revealing the white sternum inside. However, he looked calm as he leaned over to examine it carefully. His movements and expression were so calm that they even seemed a little cold.

Looking at his cruel and ruthless methods, Qiandeng and Cui Fufeng were stunned.

Ling Tianshui pointed to the exposed sternum, his voice growing even colder. "Although the wound is rotten, you can see the incision is not smooth. It was indeed caused by this dagger. However, such a blunt dagger was able to penetrate more than four inches into the body, and even the sternum was fractured in the middle. In addition, the knife was pushed forward horizontally, which requires more strength than an ordinary person, much more than the natural downward movement of the arm. This person wielding the knife has immense strength, even to an astonishing degree."

"Could it be that... he is stronger than you?" Cui Fufeng's eyes swept across Guangling's open wound, and he turned his head away unable to bear to look at it, and his eyes fell on Ling Tianshui's broad shoulders.

Ling Tianshui said decisively, "Almost. He's very confident. After all, most people would choose the ribs, and if the organs are damaged, there's no way to save them."

Qian Deng's mind flashed through Madam Meng's condition that night. Her internal bleeding was not serious, but she died soon. If she was stabbed in the ribs and her organs were ruptured, she would indeed be beyond help.

"But a single blow to the abdomen wouldn't kill him," Qian Deng pondered. "Perhaps the killer was concerned that someone might be in the library, or that Yu Guangling might escape with injuries and reveal his whereabouts."

"That makes sense. Killing people in Chang'an is different from killing people on the battlefield." Ling Tianshui agreed.

While discussing, Qiandeng quickly took notes.

After examining Yu Guangling, the three continued to examine Zheng Junshan's body.

He died relatively recently, fatally injured by a heavy blow to the back of the head. His body did not look as horrific as Yu Guangling's, but it was still shocking.

The mask could not block the smell of the rotting corpse, and Qian Deng could not close his eyes and not look at everything in front of him - not only did he have to listen to Ling Tianshui's description, but he also had to see his rotting wounds and horrific corpse with his own eyes, so that he could record all the traces in detail, on paper, and in his mind.

Even though I felt nauseous and my hands were shaking uncontrollably, and the words I wrote seemed crooked, the dead man lay before me, and I still had no clue about Uncle Fu's death. My mother's missing letter was still missing...

She held her breath and concentrated, forcibly suppressing her pain and discomfort, emptying all her fear bit by bit, allowing her mind to clear and calm, and endure this difficult but necessary autopsy.