Coroner: "Song Yang"

A once-in-a-century genius

I dared not act out in front of Grandpa and shook my head firmly.

Grandpa said, "Sun 'Tiger,' you don't understand the Song family. All I want in this life is for my descendants to live peacefully, without involving themselves in these dangerous professions."

Officer Sun wanted to say more, but Grandpa raised a hand, giving a clear gesture for him to leave: "If you’re done, please see yourself out. Otherwise, don’t step through my door again."

Officer Sun swallowed his words, picked up his briefcase, and said, "Alright, Old Song, I’ll go for now. I’ll come visit next time I have a case!"

After Officer Sun drove off, the atmosphere in the living room suddenly became heavy. Grandpa sat on his high-backed chair, holding a teacup, while I stood before him, feeling extremely nervous.

"Yang'er, how much of those two books have you read?" he asked.

I stammered, answering that I had read them all. In truth, I’d read them more than once. Since there weren’t many extracurricular books at home, I leafed through those two whenever I had time, nearly wearing them out.

Grandpa took a sip of tea and then, in a slow, lingering tone, recited, "In matters of criminal punishment, there is none graver than the death penalty; in death cases, none graver than the initial investigation; and in initial investigations, none graver than the examination of the corpse."

I was stunned for a moment but recited back, "For it is here where decisions are made on the matters of life and death, where truth and falsehood are determined."

He continued, "In the first month, the fetus resembles dewdrops; in the second month, like a peach blossom..."

I followed, "In the third month, gender becomes distinct; in the fourth month, limbs form; in the fifth, bones take shape; in the sixth, hair grows; in the seventh, if the right hand moves, it’s a boy, and if the left hand moves in the eighth, it’s a girl."

These passages were from The Washing Away of Wrongs. Grandpa was clearly testing me. After hearing my recitation, his teacup slipped from his hand and fell to the floor with a 'clink.' He asked in astonishment, "Yang'er, did you memorize the whole book?"

"More or less…" I admitted a bit sheepishly.

"As expected of a Song family descendant," he said with a sigh, yet he immediately shook his head.

His strange reaction startled me. I had thought he would scold me harshly, but he didn’t. Looking back, I realize Grandpa had mixed emotions at that moment. He was glad that the Song family’s unique skills were being passed on, but he also feared I’d walk the same path as he had—a road of no return

He let out a long sigh. "Fate really does play with us!"

Then he got up, not looking at me, and returned to his study with his hands behind his back. I stood there, both shocked and relieved. Was Grandpa not planning to spank me?

Late that night, Grandpa suddenly woke me up, telling me to get dressed and follow him somewhere. Groggy and confused, I put on my clothes and headed out to the yard, where Grandpa tossed me a pickaxe without a word and began walking. I followed closely behind him.

The county we live in isn’t very large. Walking south leads to a stretch of wilderness. There was no moon that night, and only a few sparse stars. Grandpa walked through the silent chestnut forest, with only the rustling of our footsteps on fallen leaves and the eerie sounds of unknown animals deeper in the woods, making me feel chills up my spine.

Before long, we passed through the woods and arrived at a deserted plot. I accidentally kicked something, and upon looking closer, I realized it was a human bone! Exposed to the sun and rain for years, it had turned a dark, weathered black.

It suddenly hit me that we were near an old mass grave. According to stories, during the chaos at the end of the Ming dynasty, a band of marauders took over this area, killing many and tossing bodies here. Over time, it became an ill-omened place where strange incidents often occurred. Locals would never position the front doors of their homes toward this direction, and any unclaimed bodies or people who led morally corrupt lives were simply wrapped in a grass mat and dumped here.

I saw faint, flickering green lights around me, almost as if ghosts were circling me.

At first, I thought they were fireflies, but then it struck me that fireflies wouldn’t live here, in this desolate graveyard where not even grass grows. Those lights had to be the so-called “corpse fire” mentioned in The Washing Away of Wrongs. Known as "ghost fire," it’s the result of phosphorus escaping from bones and igniting as bodies decay in open air.

Even though I understood the science behind it, seeing these ghostly flames with my own eyes still sent goosebumps all over me.

Just as my heart began racing, a shadow suddenly darted across the graveyard, stopping ten meters away and glaring at me, its eyes glowing a creepy green. I let out a terrified scream.

Grandpa picked up a rock and threw it at the shadow, which yelped and bolted into the bushes.

"Don't be afraid, it’s just a dog," Grandpa said reassuringly.

I swallowed hard and asked, “Grandpa, what are we here for?”

“You’ll see soon enough…”

Grandpa led me to a pile of stones and pointed at it, saying, “Dig!”

“Dig?” I was startled. “Grandpa, is this a grave?”

“If it’s buried here, what else could it be?” he replied.

“But Grandpa, isn’t grave-robbing illegal?” I hesitated.

“This isn’t grave-robbing; it’s called exhumation for examination. Stop asking questions and start digging,” Grandpa said sternly.

Reluctantly, I took up the pickaxe and began digging. It was a stone grave, making it hard work. Even though I grew up in the county, I’d rarely handled anything heavier than a pen, and my palms quickly blistered.

Grandpa stood by, lighting his pipe as he watched me dig. The smoke drifted over, pungent but oddly comforting, even reducing the eerie chill of the graveyard.

I don’t know how long I dug, but eventually, drenched in sweat, I heard a creak as I struck something below. I abandoned the pickaxe, cleared away the stones by hand, and soon exposed a set of darkened bones.

I glanced at Grandpa, who just puffed on his pipe without a word, so I continued removing the bones from the stone pile and laid them out on a clear patch of ground, arranging them in human form.

I hadn’t worked with corpses before, but the Examination of Bones chapter in The Washing Away of Wrongs described each bone in detail, so piecing together the skeleton didn’t take too long.

But as I arranged the bones, I felt something was off.