"lady--"
After exclaiming in surprise, Fu Rong covered his mouth and nose, and racked his brains to think of something to say: "The body is already rotten and smelly. You really don't need to take care of it anymore. Why suffer this pain? Just let someone else do it. I believe that if the general knew in the afterlife, he would not blame you."
But Zheng Quchi ignored his words and didn't even bother to respond.
"Madam, um... how about we put on gloves before we start?"
The corpse is so rotten, and it's a male corpse. Doesn't the lady find it disgusting?
"Madam..."
Fu Rong, feeling uneasy, couldn't sit still for a moment, scratching his head and fidgeting.
After Zheng Quchi removed the mask from the male corpse, he naturally did not see a complete human face. The coffin was lined with ice, which had the effect of delaying the decomposition of the body. Previously, he could still see a part of the skin intact on the head, but now he could not.
But that's alright, one of her favorite TV dramas these days is the crime drama genre, and she pays particular attention to the autopsy scenes.
The dead can speak.
She thought of the life-size wooden sculpture of a human figure she had once carved for Yuwen Sheng. Although it had been artistically modified, she had put a lot of effort into making the figure look real.
She had briefly examined the body in the palace. Since the image of Yuwen Sheng falling into the water and dying during the siege often haunted her, she believed that it was impossible for a mortal with flesh and blood to survive under such circumstances.
With this in mind, she examined most of the corresponding wounds on the body and then concluded that the corpse should not be faked.
However, upon closer examination, there are many things that don't seem right.
She lifted his clothes, revealing a deathly pale, almost black corpse covered in old wounds. The surrounding candlelight shone brightly throughout the night, illuminating everything in exquisite detail.
She bent down slightly, her focused gaze sweeping over his upper body.
She remembered that Yuwen Sheng was once injured, and she personally applied medicine to his wound. Although she was very uncomfortable at the time and did not examine his wound closely, she roughly knew which parts of his body had been injured.
However, the wounds on this person's body included long, narrow wounds from short blades, burns, penetrating wounds from sharp objects, and whip marks. Rather than resembling the extensive and severe injuries a general would suffer on the battlefield, they looked more like injuries sustained from torture or fighting.
Her face was somber, and unwilling to give up, she pulled all her clothes down to her waist. At this moment, Fu Rong finally couldn't hold back any longer and ran up to stop her, saying, "Madam, this smells terrible, I... I'll vomit..."
He was too close, and then his peripheral vision caught a glimpse of the corpse, causing him to feel nauseous. He forced himself to suppress it, pleading with her, "Don't investigate anymore..."
Why not investigate?
What is he worried about?
Zheng Quchi remained unfazed: "Fu Rong, move aside, don't make me say it a second time."
Seeing the lady's cold and resolute profile, Fu Rong naturally dared not act rashly again, and could only pray in his heart that someone would come and save him.
She was still trying to recall every detail about Yuwen Sheng, but it was all too blurry. She only remembered that he was very thin, but broad-shouldered, and his whole body was lean yet strong. That's right, his back dimples! He had back dimples. Just as she was about to turn him over to check his back, she suddenly noticed a strange mark on the corpse's arm...
Just as she was about to take a look, a clear and cool voice rang out in the mourning hall.
"Zheng Quchi, what are you doing?"
Someone broke into the mourning hall, and a swift and sharp figure, surrounded by guards, arrived in front of Zheng Quchi. The light shone on his high nose bridge, making half of his face appear dark and silent, with his pupils containing distinct layers of light and shadow.
Yuan Xingzhou?
Why would he come?
Zheng Quchi was stunned for a moment, but she did not immediately step forward to bow. Instead, she lowered her head and rubbed the mark with varying pressure using her fingertips. It did not look like it was painted on or a bruise left by an injury. It was angular and sharp, like a special symbol. She was certain that if it was not a birthmark, it must have been deliberately tattooed into the skin.
After confirming and noting it down, Zheng Quchi was suddenly pulled aside by a force, and she looked up at Yuan Xingzhou, who had an unpleasant expression.
He stared intently into her eyes and said, "Fu Rong, dress the person in the coffin in their burial clothes!"
"Ah, me?" Fu Rong was stunned, but how could he dare to disobey the young prince's orders? He could only say with a wronged expression, "...Alright, alright."
Zheng Quchi frowned and said, "This is not in accordance with the rules."
What exactly constitutes conforming to the rules?
He scoffed coldly, forcefully took her hand, leaving the crowd in the mourning hall behind. The two of them walked together through the moonlit corridor with its clear wind chimes, across the flower-lined trees and groves of spring blossoms and autumn fruits, and past the dazzling wall shadows, until they arrived at a door and pushed it open.
His arrival was like an unspoken agreement. Spring, Autumn, Summer, and Winter glanced at him and then knelt on either side. Upon receiving the order, they dared not delay and quickly fetched hot water and brought a towel.
Yuan Xingzhou removed the cotton ball from her nose, then soaked her cold hands in warm water, and took a cloth from the rack to gently wipe between her fingers.
Perhaps because he had never served anyone before, his strength was sometimes heavy and sometimes light. Zheng Quchi knew that he smelled bad and had just touched a dead person. Most people would probably think it was bad luck, let alone someone of his high position and power. He shouldn't be doing these things for her.
"Let go of me, I can do it myself."
"You've touched him all the time?" Yuan Xingzhou asked abruptly.
Zheng Quchi naturally wouldn't answer such a boring question. She said, "It's so late, why are you at the General's Mansion, Young Master?"
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