Chapter 5: Home-style Tofu (Part 5)
Jing Yi stared blankly for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh.
Of all the words she could have used, she had to choose "help."
For over a decade, he had wondered what the first favor Leng Yue would ever ask of him might be. Now, at last, he knew.
An autopsy.
Jing Yi took several slow, deep breaths, then looked helplessly at the tightly sealed chest and asked Leng Yue a serious question: "Is this charred corpse thoroughly cooked?"
Leng Yue was taken aback. "What do you mean... thoroughly cooked?"
"I mean, is it cooked through from the inside out? So that no matter how you move it around, no blood will seep out?"
Leng Yue was even more stunned.
It wasn't that she didn't understand what Jing Yi was saying—it was just that such words didn't sound like they were coming from him. Especially... when he said them so seriously and so calmly.
Almost involuntarily, Leng Yue asked, "What blood?"
"Well..." Jing Yi thought carefully. "The red, sticky kind. Like mixing ink paste into honey water."
"...There isn't any."
Jing Yi seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, his expression easing slightly. "Good, no blood."
Only then did Leng Yue realize he had asked that spine-chilling question because he was afraid of blood?
She knew Jing Yi was afraid of many things, but she had never heard him mention a fear of blood before.
For a moment, Leng Yue couldn't understand it. Bright red blood and pitch-black charred corpse—at first glance, the charred corpse was clearly more unsettling. How could Jing Yi be more afraid of blood?
Before she could figure it out, Jing Yi calmly said, "Just tell me what preparations are needed, my lady."
Fine, it was better if he wasn't afraid.
"I need a teapot, a teacup, paper, a brush, and your clothes... Stop! The outer layer is enough."
With a dark expression, Leng Yue took the outer garment Jing Yi handed over and spread it on the ground. Jing Yi circled the room and returned with a teapot in his left hand, a teacup in his right, and paper and a brush clenched between his teeth.
He had a rough idea what the garment spread on the ground was for, so when he took it off, he had already prepared himself to part with it forever.
The paper and brush were probably for recording the autopsy findings, but what use could the teapot and teacup possibly serve?
Then Leng Yue picked up the teapot with one hand and the teacup with the other. She tilted the teapot over the cup, tilting it further and further... until the teapot was almost upside down. She stopped and looked up at Jing Yi, who was squatting beside her, watching intently. "Where's the water?"
"I poured it out. You didn't say you needed water... Oh, water! Right away!"
Jing Yi took the teacup from Leng Yue, darted over to the fish tank, deftly scooped up half a cup of water, and floated back in the blink of an eye. Before handing it to Leng Yue with both hands, he meticulously picked out every tiny piece of duckweed floating in the water, leaving Leng Yue utterly speechless.
Finally, Jing Yi asked earnestly, "Is this water acceptable?"
"Acceptable..." Leng Yue set the cup on the ground and reached to open the chest. Just as her hand touched the lid, she suddenly remembered something and turned to look at Jing Yi, whose expression had already grown complicated. "Tell me the truth—have you ever seen a corpse in the six months you've been at the Dali Temple?"
Jing Yi shook his head honestly and spoke truthfully, "I'm a Deputy Minister of the Dali Temple. I don't see them, and I don't need to."
Leng Yue understood what he meant.The reason he hadn't seen one was that the Ministry of Justice handled numerous capital cases from the court—those reviewed after the Board of Punishments' initial judgment, those directly submitted by the Capital Prefecture, and those assigned by the Emperor or Prince An. However, the most critical duty of the Ministry of Justice had always been adjudicating cases involving civil and military officials who committed crimes. As Jing Yi held the second-highest position in the ministry, the cases he handled were naturally all of the utmost importance.
Among officials who committed crimes, less than one in a hundred cases involved homicide.
The reason he didn't need to see them was that even if he were assigned a homicide case, there were coroners to examine the bodies and clerks responsible for supervision. Given his official rank, he had no need to view the corpses personally.
Leng Yue sighed inwardly—she had nearly forgotten this detail...
She couldn't be blamed, really, because Jing Yi himself didn't look like a high-ranking official. Especially now, dressed only in soft inner garments, obediently crouching beside her with his long legs bent.
Looking at Jing Yi's utterly innocent and harmless face, Leng Yue asked, "Then have you ever seen a dead person before? Even those who died of illness count."
Leng Yue herself had only learned corpse examination midway through her career, so she knew very well that progressing from daring to look at a corpse to being able to examine any condition, from daring to touch one to being able to handle any part, required a gradual process. Rushing it could lead to consequences a hundred times more severe than martial arts practitioners suffering from deviation.
Jing Yi still shook his head.
"Then..."
Leng Yue wanted to ask if he had seen any other dead creatures, but the words caught in her throat as she suddenly remembered—Jing Yi had indeed seen one.
His most beloved cat had died tragically and mysteriously six months earlier, its skin completely stripped off before being discarded, a bloody mess, at his chamber door. Jing Yi hadn't shed tears nor lost his temper. He simply moved out of the Jing family mansion that very day with the dead cat and began living alone in this residence quite distant from the main family compound, claiming it was closer to the Ministry of Justice so he could sleep a little longer each morning.
After moving here, Jing Yi never mentioned the cat again. Life went on as usual, and he maintained normal relations with all members of the Jing family. She had nearly forgotten about the incident.
Could his fear of blood be because of this?
Leng Yue's heart clenched, and she stopped herself just in time. When she spoke again, her voice had noticeably softened. "Then you should still go outside. Don't stay here causing trouble."
Jing Yi was taken aback.
He didn't know what was going through Leng Yue's mind, but he did know that she rarely asked for help in her work. If she requested his assistance, it must be something she truly couldn't handle alone, something that absolutely required his participation.
Such matters weren't likely to simply disappear.
Knowing such a situation existed, he couldn't just leave her here by herself.
"If I go out, what will you do?"
"I'll do what needs to be done."
Jing Yi shrugged and sat cross-legged on the floor. "Then if I stay here, you can just do what needs to be done as well."
Leng Yue stared at him for a long moment. She felt this timid man must have forgotten something, so she curled her fingers and tapped twice on the lid of the box. "What's inside here is a charred corpse."
Jing Yi rubbed his nose somewhat helplessly. "I can smell that."
"Charred corpses are different from roasted meat."
"I know."
Having done all she felt obliged to do, Leng Yue sighed, flipped her hand to grip the edge of the lid, and lifted it lightly. An indescribable odor wafted out from within. Leng Yue frowned slightly.In the lingering heat of August, keeping a corpse sealed in a trunk was hardly a sustainable solution.
Leng Yue glanced at Jing Yi, who was unusually quiet. Jing Yi sat cross-legged without moving a muscle, his chin slightly raised, lips pressed together, and eyes fixed silently on a spot on the ceiling beam as if awaiting execution.
Leng Yue twitched the corner of her mouth. "If you really can’t stand it, you’d better leave now. If you vomit on the corpse later, it’ll be up to Prince An to decide what classics you’ll have to copy as punishment."
"What’s there to not stand? The smells in gambling dens are far more complex than this…"
Recalling how he had been retching miserably in front of Prince An the day before, Leng Yue raised an eyebrow. "Why didn’t you think of the smells in gambling dens yesterday?"
"I hadn’t sobered up completely from the alcohol…"
Jing Yi kept his gaze fixed on the ceiling beam, breathing slowly and deliberately, cutting off Leng Yue’s recollection of the previous day’s distressing scene. "I think the murderer is very likely a woman."
Leng Yue was taken aback. She hadn’t even retrieved the corpse yet—where did this possibility come from? "Why?"
"I didn’t notice it earlier, but just now I caught a faint scent of face powder mixed in with the odor from the trunk." Jing Yi took another slow breath and added with certainty, "It’s 'Chaotic Rouge' from Thousand Colors Workshop."
"...That’s the scent from me."
"Didn’t you say you didn’t use any powder this morning?"
Leng Yue replied casually, "I used quite a lot on our wedding day. It must have rubbed off on him when I moved him over."
Jing Yi’s gaze abruptly dropped from the ceiling beam.
He had always assumed that after discovering the corpse in the trunk under the bed, Leng Yue had first moved his painting trunk from the study to the bedroom, swapped the contents of the two trunks, and then used that trunk to transport the corpse to the study.
But if that were the case, the corpse wouldn’t have picked up much of the powder scent from Leng Yue.
Unless…
Jing Yi’s Adam’s apple trembled slightly. "How… did you bring him here?"
Leng Yue briskly rolled up her sleeves, bent down, and carefully reached into the trunk with both hands. She steadily lifted out a dark, shapeless mass, then slowly knelt, placing the charred, foul-smelling corpse with utmost gentleness onto the clothes spread out in front of Jing Yi. Only then did she speak. "Just like this—I carried him over."
Jing Yi sat rigidly, his back stiff, his expression as complex and indescribable as the odor permeating the room.
Yet, in the next moment, what Leng Yue did made Jing Yi suddenly feel that carrying the charred corpse all the way from the bedroom to the study was nothing in comparison.
Leng Yue hitched up the hem of her robe and tucked it securely into her tightly cinched waist. She parted her long legs and knelt astride the relatively small charred corpse, slowly lowering her torso until she reached a position where neither of them touched the other. Then, with one hand, she pinched the corpse’s cheeks, and with the other, she drew a dagger from her waist. She carefully cut open the corpse’s burned and blurred lips, inserted the dagger bit by bit, and gently pried open the jaw.
Maintaining this eerie yet strangely alluring posture, she turned to look at Jing Yi, who seemed stunned. "Paper, brush."Leng Yue had to call Jing Yi's name twice before he snapped out of his daze. He grabbed the paper and brush lying beside him on the floor, about to hand them over, when he suddenly recalled Leng Yue holding the empty teapot and asking where the water was. He quickly stood up, dipped the brush tip into the inkstone on the table, and then handed both the paper and brush to her.
Given the presence of a charred corpse with an unrecognizable face, Leng Yue was already surprised that Jing Yi hadn't screamed. Seeing the brush he handed over, she was even more taken aback.
"Who told you to dip it in ink... Get another one, dip it in clean water."
"..."
Jing Yi, his forehead faintly darkening, fetched a clean brush, dipped it in the tea bowl, and handed it to Leng Yue, but she didn't reach out to take it.
To be precise, she didn't have a free hand to take it.
Her initial reason for wanting Jing Yi to stay was precisely so he could assist her at a moment like this.
Leng Yue hesitated for a moment. "Are you really alright?"
Jing Yi forced a smile. Though it was an ugly one, it was enough for Leng Yue to recognize it as a gesture indicating he was fine.
"If you're really fine, then give me a hand."
Jing Yi nodded. He had stayed this long precisely waiting for her to say those words.
"Take the dagger, or take the brush—your choice."
Jing Yi was, after all, a civil official. Choosing to work with a brush was almost instinctive. Besides, he instinctively didn't want to kneel astride a charred corpse...
The moment he made his choice, Jing Yi realized he was wrong. He had been mistaken from the very beginning.
For his precious wife, who had been at odds with studying since childhood, how could a brush possibly be meant for writing?
As soon as she finished speaking, Leng Yue gave him no chance to reconsider.
"Insert the brush tip into his mouth, as deep into the throat as possible. Rotate the tip along the walls, then take it out and rinse it clean in the tea bowl. Do this five or six times... Spread the paper on the corpse's chest, and don't let any water drip onto the body."
As expected...
Jing Yi couldn't help but think that if he had really left earlier, she might have used some other part of her body to accomplish the task. As for which part she would use and how, Jing Yi felt that unless he witnessed it firsthand, he would never be able to guess in his entire life.
He also couldn't help but wonder if the little girl from his memories, who would cry loud enough for the whole street to hear when she scraped her knee, was merely a figment of his imagination.
While Jing Yi was lost in these thoughts, Leng Yue had run out of patience.
Leng Yue leaned down, gripped the dagger with her teeth, freed one hand, snatched the brush from Jing Yi, and swiftly inserted it into the corpse's mouth. Jing Yi's neck stiffened at the sight.
Indeed... only by seeing it with his own eyes could he truly understand.
Leng Yue swiftly twisted the brush a few times, then pulled it out deftly. She glanced sideways at Jing Yi and mumbled the word "water" around the dagger.
Jing Yi hurriedly took the brush, which he was destined never to use for writing again, and rinsed it in the tea bowl as Leng Yue had instructed. The filth clinging to the brush tip dissolved in the water, instantly enriching the once-clear bowl.
Jing Yi's stomach churned involuntarily.
He would have to speak to Prince An later about raising the coroners' wages...
Seeing Leng Yue about to lean down and grip the dagger with her teeth again, Jing Yi quickly reached out to stop her. "You hold the dagger properly. I'll do it."
"Alright."Jing Yi steeled himself and repeated Leng Yue's movements from moments before several times. When Leng Yue called for him to stop, Jing Yi was convinced he wouldn't feel like picking up a brush again anytime soon.
Leng Yue let out a soft sigh, knelt upright, pulled the dagger from the charred corpse's mouth, wiped it a few times on the clothing spread beneath the body, then returned it to her waist. Taking the teacup Jing Yi held in his hands, she glanced at it and suddenly broke into a radiant smile, her mood lifting. She leaned over and planted a light, cheerful kiss on Jing Yi's forehead, damp with fine beads of sweat.
"Well done!"
Jing Yi felt like crying.
Not because Leng Yue had praised him without him understanding why, but because of her kiss.
This was the second time she had kissed him in one day.
The first time, she had nearly suffocated him to death with a kiss.
This time, a thoroughly charred corpse lay between her legs.
The day had only just reached morning—would there be a third time today?
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