Chapter 1: The Divine Decree of Judgement

Have you ever seen a strange boss who chops up customers into mince and steams them into large buns for sale?

Have you ever seen a strange doctor who turns a romantic rival into a pig through plastic surgery, imprisoning them in a breeding farm?

Have you ever seen a strange orphan, raised by bats from childhood, surviving by drinking human blood?

I have seen them all.

My name is Song Yang, currently the Chief Consultant of the H Province Public Security Department, but my real identity is that of a coroner.

Friends often ask, what exactly does a coroner do?

A coroner in ancient China was an autopsy official. A good coroner could not only conduct autopsies but was also skilled in a set of secretive techniques.

They could often use everyday items like yellow wine, silver needles, red umbrellas, and pine rosin to pry open the mouths of the deceased and catch murderers.

Serving the Public Security Department for thirty years, I used my family's secret techniques to solve numerous shocking cases across China, ranging from bizarre to terrifying, cruel, and even hair-raising.

To let future generations know about the marvels of this profession, I decided to share my experiences.

However, due to the confidentiality principles of the Public Security Department, many cities and characters are pseudonyms, and I hope for your understanding. Now, back to the main story!

I was born in a small county town in the south and grew up without ever seeing my parents, living with my grandfather in an ancient ancestral house.

Despite the absence of my parents, my grandfather's love for me surpassed everything.

In my life, he only gave me one stern instruction: "Yang'er, remember, when you grow up, you can do anything you want, except for three professions: an official, a police officer, and… a forensic examiner!"

At that time, I was too young to even know what a forensic examiner was, but I nodded in ignorance.

As I grew older, I began to feel that my grandfather's identity was far from simple.

He never worked, yet we never lacked money for food and education.

And every so often, high-ranking officials would visit with a group of police officers, treating my grandfather with great respect and often bringing gifts like Maotai liquor and special Panda cigarettes.

They would have long discussions, sometimes from morning till evening. Soon after these visits, a major case in the province would be solved, like the Sichuan Restaurant Hell Money case or the Southwest University Dismemberment case.

I had a hunch that my grandfather was closely linked to these cases, but he never revealed a word to me.

This relationship brought benefits to our family. My aunt's business always went smoothly, and even when I scored poorly in my high school exams, I was still admitted to a key school.

When I was twelve, the county planned a major road through our ancestral home. While other neighbors succumbed to the pressure of the demolition office and moved, my grandfather refused to abandon our ancestral house, determined to be a 'nail house' holder.

The contractor, not one to give in easily, brought two excavators to our doorstep and demolished a wall, trying to intimidate us.

I was terrified.

My grandfather sighed, made a phone call, and just like that, the excavators left.

The next morning, many officials and the contractor came to apologize personally, offering a hefty sum of 100,000 yuan, which was a large amount for our small town. But my grandfather declined it with a wave of his hand.

The road was built but with a big detour around our house. This incident planted a seed of curiosity in my young mind about my grandfather's extraordinary capabilities.

When I was fifteen, I accidentally found two ancient books in an old trunk in our house: "Collected Records of Washing Away Injustices," written in the seventh year of Chunyou during the Southern Song Dynasty by someone named Song Ci, and another book, "The Divine Decree of Judgement," with no author mentioned.

With my limited knowledge of classical Chinese, I could barely understand the books, which were filled with diagrams of human anatomy and autopsies.

For some reason, these books held a magical allure for me. I secretly read them, fascinated by the world they opened up to me, despite the books mentioning the coroner's profession as one specializing in examining bodies for clues in unsolved cases. I found it fresh, interesting, and challenging.

At sixteen, I had my first chance to apply what I learned.

It was the peak of summer. My grandfather was out, and I was home alone, idly catching cicadas with a sticky bamboo pole when a black Jetta screeched to a halt at our doorstep.

A burly man with a square face and bronze skin, Officer Sun, who had visited my grandfather before, stormed into the yard. I remembered him as a forthright police officer.

He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and carrying a briefcase, sweating profusely. He asked me if my grandfather was home.

I offered him a cold drink inside.

We chatted briefly, and I seized the opportunity to learn more about my grandfather.

Officer Sun revealed that my grandfather was a highly regarded figure, repeatedly sought after by officials to come out of retirement, but he always refused.

Just as Officer Sun was about to reveal something about their collaboration, he suddenly feigned stomach pain and rushed to the bathroom.

While he was away, a photo slipped out of his briefcase, catching my curiosity.

It was an image of a corpse, a scene both shocking and strangely exciting. I couldn't help but examine it, piecing together the cause of death.

Officer Sun caught me with the photo and, after a brief scolding, challenged me to deduce the murder weapon.

To his amazement, I correctly identified the weapon as a stack of tightly bundled new banknotes, used to slit the victim's throat before being scattered at the scene.

Impressed, Officer Sun praised my analytical skills, hinting at my potential as a coroner, much to my surprise.

Just then, my grandfather arrived. His stern look made me shiver, as he had forbidden me from such matters, unaware of my secret studies.

His gaze shifted between me and Officer Sun, and I feared the worst. My journey into the world of forensics, inspired by ancient texts and an inquisitive mind, was just beginning.