Flight attendant wife's experience of losing her virginity

Chapter One: The God of Judgment
Have you ever seen a strange boss who chops his customers into mincemeat and steams them into baskets of buns to sell?
Have you ever seen a strange doctor who transforms his love rival into a pig and imprisons him in a farm?
Have you ever seen a strange orphan raised by bats from childhood, surviving by sucking human blood?
I have seen them all.
My name is Song Yang, currently the chief consultant of the H Province Public Security Bureau, and my true identity is a coroner.
Some friends are confused about what a coroner does. A coroner
is the ancient Chinese medical examiner. A good coroner not only examines corpses but also possesses a set of unknown, unique skills.
They often use everyday items such as rice wine, silver needles, red umbrellas, and rosin to pry open the mouths of the deceased and apprehend murderers.
For thirty years, I have served the Public Security Bureau, using my family's unique skills to solve countless shocking cases in China. Some of these cases are perverse, some terrifying, some cruel, and some chilling.
To let future generations know the wonders of the coroner's profession, I have decided to share my experiences with everyone.
However, due to the confidentiality principles of the Public Security Bureau, many cities and people have used pseudonyms. I hope everyone can understand. Okay, let's get back to the main topic!
I was born in a small county town in the south. I never met my parents and lived with my grandfather in an old, simple ancestral house.
Although I had no parents, my grandfather's love for me surpassed everything.
In my entire life, he only sternly admonished me once: "Yang'er, you must remember, when you grow up, Grandpa will not stop you from doing whatever you want, except for three professions you must never touch: first, being an official; second, being a policeman; and third... being a forensic doctor!"
At that time, I was still young and didn't even know what a forensic doctor was, I just nodded blankly.
But as I grew older, I gradually developed a strange feeling that my grandfather's identity was definitely not simple!
The reason I felt this way was because my grandfather did nothing all day and never worked in the fields, yet he had a constant stream of money to buy me good food and support my education.
Moreover, every so often, high-ranking officials would arrive with a group of junior police officers to visit my grandfather. They were extremely respectful to him and often brought gifts, such as Moutai liquor and special-edition Panda cigarettes.
They would usually have long talks with my grandfather in his room, ranging from an hour to several hours, sometimes even from morning till evening. A few days after each of these officials left, a major case would be solved in the province, such as the Sichuan restaurant ghost money case or the Southwest University dismemberment case. These cases shocked the entire country, and even I, living in a small county, had heard about them.
I vaguely felt that the solving of these cases was inextricably linked to my grandfather, but he never revealed a word to me!
My grandfather's connections benefited the entire family. My aunt's business was always very successful. Once, when my aunt lost a truckload of goods on the highway, the police delivered it respectfully within a day.
Even when I missed the high school entrance exam by several tens of points, I was still admitted to a top-tier high school as I had hoped.
When I was twelve, the county town was preparing to build a major road that would pass right by the Song family's old house. The surrounding neighbors, unable to withstand the persistent pressure from the demolition office, moved away one after another. Only my grandfather refused to give up the ancestral house, determined to be a "holdout."
The contractor for the road construction was no pushover either. When persuasion failed, he drove two excavators to our doorstep and rumbled down a wall, clearly trying to establish his authority!
The scene terrified me so much I almost cried.
My grandfather sighed softly, picked up the phone, dialed a number, and casually said a few words. To my surprise, a few minutes later, the excavators hurriedly left.
The very next morning, numerous leaders and the contractor personally came to apologize, and the contractor even offered 100,000 yuan as compensation. This was a large sum of money in a small county town, but my grandfather simply waved his hand and declined the offer.
The main road construction continued, of course, but it took a large detour in front of our house. This planted a strong seed of curiosity in my young mind: how could Grandpa be so incredibly resourceful?
When I was fifteen, I accidentally found two tattered books in a trunk in the old house. One was called *The True Version of the Washing Away of Wrongs*, written in the seventh year of the Chunyou era of the Southern Song Dynasty, by a man named Song Ci. The other was called *The Divine Treatise on Judgment*, with no author listed.
With my limited classical Chinese at the time, understanding these two ancient books was quite difficult. I could only barely decipher the little figures drawn on them, which were diagrams of human anatomy and the examination of corpses.
For some reason, these two books possessed an extraordinary magic for me. Once I opened them, I couldn't put them down. I kept it a secret from Grandpa and, with the tenacity of an ant gnawing at a bone, I managed to "devour" these two obscure ancient books!
These two books were like a door to a new world for me, even though they mentioned the profession of coroner, who in ancient times specialized in examining corpses to find clues for solving cases. But I didn't find it scary at all; on the contrary, I found it novel, interesting, and full of challenges.
At sixteen, I had my first opportunity to put my knowledge to practical use.
It was the hottest time of summer, and my grandfather had gone out early that morning. I was on summer vacation at home, and with nothing to do, I used a bamboo pole with glue to catch cicadas from the trees. Just then, a black Jetta sedan braked suddenly and screeched to a stop in front of the Song family's old house.
A burly man with a square face, thick eyebrows, and large eyes, his skin tanned to a bronze color, stepped out of the car and strode into the yard. I recognized him as a police officer who had visited my grandfather a few times before; I think his surname was Sun.
Officer Sun wasn't wearing his uniform today, but a short-sleeved shirt and a briefcase. He was sweating profusely, wisps of steam rising from his head. Seeing me, he immediately asked, "Kid, is your grandpa home?"
"No, he went out."
Officer Sun frowned, pulled at his collar, and fanned himself, muttering, "This weather is unbearably hot."
I quickly said, "Uncle, come in and sit down! I'll get you an iced drink."
"Okay, that's thoughtful of you!"
Officer Sun was very forthright. He went into the living room, unceremoniously found a chair, took the large glass of cola I poured for him, gulped it down, wiped his mouth with satisfaction, then lit a cigarette and asked, "Kid, are you in high school yet?"
"Just started my first year," I replied.
"How are your grades?
" "Not bad."
"Are any classmates bullying you?
" "No."
"If any classmates are so rude as to bully you, tell Uncle, and Uncle will get revenge for you!" Officer Sun laughed heartily.
"Uncle, what's your relationship with my grandfather?" I thought this was a great opportunity to learn more about my grandfather.
"Your grandfather is truly a once-in-a-century master, but unfortunately, he's also incredibly stubborn. Over the years, countless leaders have tried to persuade him to come out of retirement, but he just wouldn't budge. Last year, a department head offered him a deal: if he worked for our police force for a year, he could retire and receive a monthly pension of 50,000 yuan. He wasn't even tempted by that! I'm truly impressed! So, we had no choice but to cooperate in another way," Officer Sun sighed.
"Cooperate? Cooperate on what?" I asked.
Officer Sun was about to answer when he suddenly realized he might have let something slip. He quickly clutched his stomach and said, "Ouch, my stomach suddenly hurts! I guess I drank too much cold food too quickly. Where's the toilet?"
"In the backyard," I pointed.
Officer Sun, still clutching his stomach, dashed off to the backyard like a whirlwind, followed by a series of splashing sounds.
The briefcase Officer Sun had tossed on the table was undone, and a photograph slid out, showing some red and green things that piqued my intense curiosity!
Taking advantage of the fact that no one was around, I reached out almost unconsciously, my heart pounding like a drum. In my mind, peeking at classified police documents was illegal, and could even land me in jail, but I really wanted to see it.
So I convinced myself to just look, just one look, and then put it back.
I took the photograph out of the briefcase, and as expected, it was a corpse. Although I'd seen many dead people in movies, I knew those were fake, nothing compared to the shock of a real corpse.
The corpse in the photo was an adult male, wearing a suit, his white shirt stained red with blood. He was slumped in front of an open safe, his head bowed, a pair of glasses hanging from his right ear. A long, deep wound ran down his throat, from which blood was flowing.
Scattered around the body were large amounts of banknotes, also stained with blood.
My gaze was drawn to the photo. I felt no horror, only an irrepressible excitement, like a starving man seeing delicious food, or a lecherous man seeing a beautiful woman. I know this analogy is somewhat inappropriate; the dead should be respected, but I just felt a strange excitement!
Just as I was engrossed in looking at it, a large hand suddenly reached out from behind and snatched the photo from my hand.
I turned around and saw Officer Sun standing behind me, glaring at me with a stern look.
"Kid, who gave you permission to peek at my files? Peeking at a police officer's files is illegal, you know?" Officer Sun roared.
"I just… I only glanced at it… really…" I stammered, terrified.
Officer Sun narrowed his eyes, a sly smile suddenly appearing on his lips. He said, "How about this? I'll test you. If you can answer, we'll let it go; if you can't, don't blame me for being impolite. You'll have to go to the police station to reflect on your actions for a few days."
Hearing this, I felt relieved, because I roughly guessed what he was going to test me on!
As expected, after I nodded in agreement, Officer Sun asked me, "Tell me, what weapon killed this man?"
"Give me the photo."
I took the photo, glanced at it, and said with certainty, "The wound on his throat is the fatal one. Judging from the shape of the wound, it was inflicted by a sharp object with an edge. But if it were a knife or dagger, I doubt you'd ask me this question. So the weapon must be very special!"
Officer Sun became interested: "Not bad, young man, you're quite articulate. Tell me, what exactly is the weapon?"
I handed over the photo: "The weapon is in this photo."
Officer Sun stared at the photo, blinked, and said, "The weapon is in the photo? You're not talking nonsense, are you? I personally participated in the investigation of this case. We searched the scene inside and out, but we couldn't find the weapon. Actually, the murderer has already been caught. If it weren't for the weapon..." He suddenly stopped, coughed, and said, "Stop talking nonsense, tell me what the weapon is!"
"It's the banknotes on the ground!" I answered crisply. "To be precise, it's these banknotes."
Officer Sun blinked in astonishment. "Banknotes? No, how is that possible?"
"Why not? A stack of brand-new banknotes tightly bound together, with edges sharp enough to cut such a deep and long wound, and then scattered at the crime scene, would make the 'murder weapon' disappear." I replied.
Officer Sun gasped and couldn't help but give me a thumbs up. "Impressive, no wonder you're Song Zhaolin's grandson."
Actually, this wasn't my own idea. Among the bizarre cases recorded in "The Divine Scripture of Hell," there was a case of murder with a paper knife. When I saw the bloodstained banknotes scattered everywhere in the photo, I unconsciously connected it to that. Judging from Officer Sun's words, the murderer had been caught, but the murder weapon hadn't been found, so they couldn't convict him. That's why they came to my grandfather for help.
"Alright, thank you. This trip wasn't a waste after all. When do you come to the provincial capital? Uncle will treat you to KFC. By the way, I have a daughter who's in high school too. You two will definitely get along well." Officer Sun smiled as he put the photo back in his bag, muttering to himself, "That old scoundrel Song Zhaolin has been telling me that the Song family will never produce a coroner again. Turns out he's been secretly grooming you. Looks like the Song family has a successor. That's great."
"Tiger Sun, what are you saying about having a successor?"
Just then, a voice came from outside the door. I turned around and saw Grandpa standing there, and I was immediately terrified. Because Grandpa never allowed me to touch these things, and he didn't know I had secretly read those two forbidden books.
Grandpa slowly turned his gloomy gaze from Officer Sun to me, as if he understood something. At that moment, I was truly terrified!
Chapter Two: A Once-in-a-Century Genius
Grandpa slowly walked into the house with his hands behind his back and asked Officer Sun what we had been talking about.
I desperately tried to signal Officer Sun with my eyes to stop talking, but this uncle, oblivious to everything, not only recounted the whole story but also showered me with praise.
"Old Song, your grandson is truly amazing! This case dragged on for almost half a month, we practically searched the ground three feet deep, but we couldn't find the murder weapon. He figured it out just by looking at the photo. This kid is going to be incredible. In my opinion, he shouldn't go to university after high school. There are tons of university graduates these days, and graduation just means unemployment. Why don't I write a letter of recommendation and send him straight to police academy? Gold should shine, don't you think?"
Grandpa waved his hand, his attitude cold, and said, "You're giving him too much credit. He's just flipping through a few old books left by our ancestors, showing off his limited knowledge. Besides, our Song family has an eight-character ancestral motto: 'No official position, no career advancement, wise self-preservation.' You should keep your little schemes to yourself! I'm not handing this kid over to you."
He then gave me a cold look, which frightened me so much that I quickly lowered my head.
Officer Sun sighed and said, "Old Song, aren't you being a bit too stubborn? So what if you slept in the stables for three years back then? Wasn't that matter cleared up a long time ago? It's the 21st century now, why are you still talking about ancestral precepts? You're such a stubborn old man!" After saying that, he patted me on the shoulder, trying to win me over: "Kid, do you want to be a policeman when you grow up and catch bad guys with your uncle?"
I didn't dare to be disrespectful in front of my grandfather, so I shook my head vigorously.
Grandpa said, "Grandpa, you don't understand the Song family's affairs. I don't ask for anything else in my life, I only hope that my descendants can live peacefully and not engage in these dangerous professions."
Officer Sun was about to speak again when Grandpa raised a hand, signaling him to leave: "If there's nothing else, please leave! Otherwise, don't ever set foot in my house again."
Officer Sun swallowed his words, picked up his briefcase, and said, "Alright, Old Song, I'll be going now. I'll come back to visit again if I have a case!"
After Officer Sun's car drove away, the air in the living room suddenly became heavy. Grandpa sat in his armchair, holding a teacup. I stood in front of him, feeling extremely nervous and uneasy.
"Yang'er, how much of those two books have you read?" he asked.
I stammered that I had read them all. Actually, I didn't just read them all; there weren't many extracurricular reading materials at home, and I read those two books whenever I had free time—they were practically falling apart from being read so often.
Grandpa took a sip of tea and suddenly recited slowly, "Nothing in prison is more serious than capital punishment, nothing in capital punishment is more serious than the initial investigation, and nothing in the initial investigation is more important than the examination."
I paused for a moment, then recited, "For the power of life and death, the mechanism of injustice and reprisal, is decided here."
He continued, "The first month of pregnancy is like white dew; the second month like peach blossoms..."
I continued, "In the third month, the difference between boy and girl is clear; in the fourth month, the form is complete; in the fifth month, the bones are formed; in the sixth month, the hair grows; in the seventh month, the right hand moves, indicating a boy to the mother's left; in the eighth month, the left hand moves, indicating a girl to the mother's right."
These two passages were from the true version of *The Washing Away of Wrongs*. Grandpa was intentionally testing me. After listening, his teacup fell to the ground with a 'clatter,' and he asked in surprise, "Yang'er, you've memorized the whole book?"
"More or less..." I admitted somewhat embarrassedly.
"Truly worthy of being a member of the Song family." After saying this, Grandpa shook his head again.
This strange reaction startled me. I thought Grandpa would give me a good scolding, but he didn't. Looking back, I realized that Grandpa's heart was filled with complex emotions. He was happy that the Song family's unique skills had a successor, but also afraid that I would follow in his footsteps and suffer eternal damnation.
Grandpa sighed deeply, "Fate is cruel!"
Then he got up, didn't even look at me, and went back to his study with his hands behind his back. I stood there, both shocked and relieved. Was Grandpa not going to spank me?
Late that night, Grandpa suddenly woke me up, telling me to get dressed and come with him somewhere. Confused, I got dressed and went to the yard. Grandpa tossed me a pickaxe and walked out without a word. I followed closely behind.
The county town we lived in wasn't large; to the south lay a desolate wilderness. That night, there was no moon, and the stars were few and far between. Grandpa walked through the silent chestnut grove. The only sounds were the rustling of our footsteps on the fallen leaves and the eerie howls of some unknown animal deep within the woods, sending chills down my spine.
Soon we crossed the grove and came to a wasteland. In my haste, I kicked something. Looking closer, I realized it was a human bone! Exposed to the elements for years, it had turned black.
I suddenly remembered that this area was a mass grave. Legend had it that during the chaos of the late Ming Dynasty, a band of bandits had seized power here, killing indiscriminately and dumping the bodies here. Over time, this place became an ominous spot, where strange things often happened. Even the villagers would never build their houses with the main entrance facing this direction. Any unidentified corpses, or those who were morally corrupt and unworthy of burial in the ancestral graves, were all wrapped in straw mats and thrown here.
I saw faint green flames around me, like ghosts circling me.
At first, I thought it was a firefly, but then I realized that this mass grave was filled with a heavy yin energy, almost barren, so where would fireflies come from? The light was clearly the "fire of departed remains" recorded in the "True Version of the Washing Away of Wrongs," also known as "ghost fire," a spontaneous combustion phenomenon caused by phosphorus from the bones evaporating into the air after the corpse decomposes.
Although I understood this, seeing this flickering ghost fire still gave me goosebumps.
Just as my heart was pounding, a dark shadow suddenly darted across the mass grave, stopping ten meters away and staring intently at me, its eyes glowing with an eerie green light, which made me scream.
Grandpa picked up a stone and threw it at the shadow, which, startled, scurried into the bushes with a bark.
"Don't be afraid, it's just a dog," Grandpa comforted me.
I swallowed hard and asked, "Grandpa, what are we doing here?"
"You'll find out soon enough..."
Grandpa led me to a pile of stones and pointed, "Dig!"
"Dig?" I exclaimed in surprise, "Grandpa, is this a grave?"
"What else could it be but a grave?" Grandpa replied.
"But Grandpa, isn't grave robbing illegal?" I hesitated.
"What grave robbing? This is called opening a coffin for an autopsy! Stop talking nonsense and start digging!" Grandpa said sternly.
Reluctantly, I picked up the pickaxe and began to dig. It was a stone grave, and digging was extremely strenuous. Although I grew up in the county town, I had almost never handled anything heavier than a pen. Soon, my palms were blistered.
Grandpa stood to the side, lit his pipe, and watched me dig. The smoke drifted over, choking me, but it calmed my heart and even lessened the eerie chill of the mass grave!
I dug for what seemed like forever, sweating profusely, when suddenly I heard a creaking sound. Clearly, I'd struck a corpse below. I abandoned my pickaxe and used my hands to move the stones one by one, quickly revealing a pile of blackened bones.
I glanced at Grandpa; he was smoking silently. I continued digging out the bones from the pile of stones and found an open space to assemble them into a human shape.
Although I'd never handled a corpse before, the chapter on bone examination in *The True Record of the Washing Away of Wrongs* described the shape of each bone in detail, so assembling the skeleton didn't take too long.
But as I pieced it together, I suddenly felt something was amiss!
Chapter Three: The Substitute Burial
Just as I was pondering what was wrong with the skeleton, Grandpa spoke: "Yang'er, determine what this person did in life, how they died, whether they were male or female, if female, whether they had children, their age at death, what illnesses they had, and as much as you know."
"Grandpa, are you testing me?" I asked.
"I suppose so!" Grandpa took a drag of his cigarette.
I thought to myself, this exam is just too bizarre! Dragging me out of bed in the middle of the night to dig up someone's grave in a mass grave—I doubt there's another grandpa in the world who would do something like this.
"Hurry up and look, this place is too chilling; I'm afraid my old bones won't be able to take it if I stay here too long." With that, Grandpa stomped his foot hard.
I calmed down and examined the skeleton. There were some suspicious noises coming from around the mass grave, and the eerie atmosphere here was very unsettling! But as I calmed down, I gradually eliminated all these distractions.
The skeleton I pieced together was 1.8 meters long from head to toe, so the person must have been very tall in life, but the feet were very small, which was really illogical. The ratio of a human foot to height is roughly 1:7; the taller the person, the longer their feet, unless the person had bound their feet like women in ancient times.
I set aside that for now and went back to determining the person's gender. Judging from the size of the joints, my first thought was a man. But then I saw the widened pelvis, clearly a female characteristic, and there was even a childbirth scar on the pubic bone!
I picked up the skull to check the age. Judging from the wear and tear on the teeth, it was definitely an adult in their early thirties. However, looking at the femur, the bone was slightly lighter, a sign of calcium loss, and it was bent due to years of pressure. These features clearly indicated an elderly person, which was too strange...
Even more perplexing were the person's arms, with large joints, a characteristic of leg bones. Did this person walk on all fours from birth?
This skeleton, from head to toe, was full of contradictions, making it increasingly difficult to make a judgment the longer one looked at it. But suddenly, I understood Grandpa's intention. This test would definitely not be so simple; I already had an answer in my heart!
Having squatted for too long, I felt dizzy and my vision blurred when I stood up. My legs were stiff as stone. Grandpa had a pile of cigarette butts in front of him; I had unknowingly been squatting there for half an hour.
"How is it, Yang'er?" Grandpa asked.
"This person is about thirty years old, both a man and a woman. After birth, they lived in captivity for many years, walking on four legs, eating coarse food, and had seven or eight children. Later, they drowned and were then hacked to death."
"That's your conclusion?" Grandpa sneered.
"Yes, because this isn't a person at all!" I said.
"Oh," Grandpa said, intrigued. "Tell me, how come he's not a person?"
Except for the head, all the body parts of this skeleton were borrowed from animals: the legs were from a sheep, the hands from a pig, the pelvis from another sow, and the limbs were pieced together from fragments of bones, possibly from cats or dogs.
If one had to determine the cause of death, the broken neck bone suggested decapitation.
After I finished speaking, Grandpa nodded with satisfaction. "You're a quick learner. The ancients said that believing everything in books is worse than having no books at all. If you can't even distinguish between human and animal bones, then explaining anything to you is a waste of time. Very good, very good. My Song family truly has a worthy successor."
"But Grandpa..." I voiced my doubts. "What's the story behind this skeleton?"
Grandpa took a drag of his cigarette and explained the origin of this strange skeleton—
it happened thirty years ago.
At that time, there was a villager named Huang San in Yangshuzhuang near the county town. Huang San was an idle bachelor who did nothing but drink, gamble, and sneak up on widows' walls at night. He was not even twenty years old when he caused his own mother's death.
Naturally, he couldn't find a wife and spent his days borrowing money. The villagers all despised him. Unable to make a living in the village, Huang San went to work elsewhere, working a couple of days at a construction site, a couple of days at a restaurant, and using any money he had to gamble.
Once, he ran away with a gambling debt of five thousand yuan. The creditors came to the village demanding payment, which was an enormous sum at the time—enough to build several nice houses in the countryside. None of his relatives or friends wanted to take the blame for him, so they all claimed not to know him.
A few days later, someone found a black plastic bag by the mountain road containing a bloody human head and immediately called the police! The police took photos and published an ad in the newspaper for identification. A distant uncle of Huang San recognized the head as Huang San's. It was believed the boy had been killed by his creditors. Everyone thought he had brought this upon himself, and given the conservative mindset of the villagers, no one filed a lawsuit. The police didn't investigate, and the case was dropped.
Huang San's head was sent back to the village. Everyone felt the Huang family had suffered terribly; their lineage had ended, and Huang San hadn't even left a complete body—they feared his spirit would haunt them! Someone discovered that Huang San's mother was from Chaoshan, so according to Chaoshan custom, they held a "substitute burial" for him—using the bones of other animals to create a body for his burial, hoping he would find peace in the afterlife.
After explaining the origin of the skeleton, Grandpa told me to bury Huang San's bones back. After I finished, he took out a stack of yellow paper from his pocket, lit it with a match, and placed it on the grave, saying, "Brother Huang San, I'm sorry to have bothered you. I know you died unjustly, and you had no children, so this offering probably won't be enough for you. On your death anniversary next year, I will definitely invite some monks and Taoist priests to perform rituals for you and help your soul find peace!"
As soon as he finished speaking, a gust of cold wind suddenly arose, making the firelight flicker. I seemed to hear a faint weeping sound mixed in with the wind, which drifted up into the sky with the ashes of the paper.
I was stunned by this scene. Grandpa pressed my head down and told me to kowtow a few times to apologize.
When I got up, the strange wind had disappeared. My voice trembled as I asked Grandpa, "Are there really ghosts in this world?"
"Some things are true if you believe them, and not true if you don't. But Yang'er, you must remember, a coroner examining a corpse is an offense to the deceased! So you must always maintain a sense of awe to be worthy of heaven and earth."
I nodded, "I remember!"
But then a thought crossed my mind. Did this mean I could become a forensic doctor in the future? So I asked, "Grandpa, I've passed your test. Can I become Uncle Sun's forensic doctor in the future?"
"No, absolutely not! The Song family's ancestral precepts must never be violated!" Grandpa shouted sternly.
Chapter Four: Chief Censor Song Ci
Grandpa pounded his back with his fist and said, “Sigh, this place is too eerie. My arthritis is about to flare up again. Let’s go home first and talk about it later!”
An hour later, the two of us returned home. Grandpa brewed a pot of ginger soup to ward off the chill and said while drinking the soup, “Yang’er, you must be wondering why our Song family ancestors were coroners, but we don’t allow our descendants to pursue this profession. There’s a reason for that.”
During the Southern Song Dynasty, there was an outstanding chief censor named Song Ci. Song Ci’s case-solving skills were unparalleled!
During his tenure as chief censor, he solved all the wrongful convictions and unsolved cases in the area in just eight months, arresting more than two hundred murderers. Afterwards, not a single one of them cried foul, which shocked the court and the public.
Although Song Ci was highly skilled, he deeply felt that his individual strength was limited. Many local officials and coroners often lacked the ability to conduct thorough investigations, relying entirely on forced confessions and frequently resorting to torture to extract confessions, thus disregarding human life. As the saying goes, "A drop of ink on the caseboard is a thousand drops of blood from the common people."
Therefore, Song Ci recorded all his life's experience in forensic examination in the book *Collected Cases of Injustice Rectified*. *Collected Cases of Injustice Rectified* pioneered forensic identification, more than three hundred years ahead of the West. Therefore , Song Ci is universally recognized as the father of forensic medicine!
After Song Ci, his descendants served in the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review, solving countless cases. They gradually expanded *Collected Cases of Injustice Rectified*, accumulating a set of incredibly skillful methods of case-solving, which they named *The Divine Treatise on Judgment*.
As the saying goes, a tall tree catches the wind. The Song family descendants, possessing this profound knowledge, were both easily hated by murderers and frequently met with brutal ends. On the other hand, their exceptional skills made them easy targets for manipulation. During the Ming Dynasty, the Song family was ordered to investigate a bizarre nine-tailed raccoon dog incident, which led to a power struggle for the throne. They were made scapegoats and nearly had their entire family executed.
Later, a Song family ancestor who was an expert in divination discovered that perhaps because the Song family's knowledge was too profound, allowing them to glimpse the secrets of heaven, they incurred the envy of the gods. Therefore, any member of the Song family who held the positions of official, constable, or coroner was destined for a terrible death! Thus, they established the eight-character ancestral motto, "Do not hold office, be wise and protect yourself," hoping that the Song family's lineage would continue forever.
After hearing this, I felt a little dejected and disbelieving: "But Grandpa, weren't you helping the police solve cases yourself?"
Grandpa sighed and said, "Back then, I was young and ambitious, just like you, I loved solving cases. Before Liberation, I was quite skilled in the police force, solving several major cases that shocked the nation. Unexpectedly, disaster struck soon after. Someone falsely accused me of using my autopsy techniques as feudal superstition, and as a result, I was forced to sleep in the stables, raising horses for three years for nothing. For those three years, I lived in constant fear. If I hadn't been exonerated early, I probably would have taken my own life."
At this point, Grandpa took a big gulp of ginger soup: "The rigid are easily broken, the flexible endure. I showed my talent a little, and it brought such a disaster upon me. I finally understand the wisdom of our ancestors. After that, I hid in my hometown, but my reputation had spread far and wide, and I couldn't hide completely. Every few years, someone would come to ask me to come out of retirement. It wasn't that I didn't want to, but that I couldn't. In the end, I had no choice but to cooperate with them in this way. I thought that with your generation, our Song family could finally have peace, but who would have thought that you would show your skills in front of Sun Laohu today? I think it's all fate playing tricks on us. This is the Song family's calamity, and also the Song family's mission!"
I was very confused by Grandpa's words. Did he hope that I would go into this line of work, or that I shouldn't?
Grandpa continued, "Yang'er, now that you've passed the test, starting today, I intend to impart all my knowledge to you. Do you want to learn?"
Hearing this, I excitedly replied, "Grandpa, of course I want to learn!"
"Don't overthink it!" Grandpa said. "The reason I'm teaching you is because you've been haphazardly figuring things out from two books, showing off everywhere. It's like a three-year-old child playing with an incredibly sharp sword in front of an enemy—it's dangerous. In fact, you haven't even grasped a tenth of the true essence of the Song family. Grandpa doesn't want you to die young, but Grandpa is old and can't care for you forever. All I can do is tell you the moves of this 'sword,' and let you walk your own path from now on!"
"Furthermore, forensic examination and autopsy are a treasure left by our ancestors. If it were to end in my hands, it would be my sin, and I would have no face to meet my ancestors even in the afterlife. But if the Song family has a successor, I think I can die in peace..."
I don't know if it was just my imagination, but
hearing my grandfather say "die in peace," I suddenly had a bad feeling, as if he were giving his last words.
I shook off the thought and nodded.
From then on, whenever I had free time, I followed my grandfather to learn how to perform autopsies and how to handle crime scenes. The intricacies were difficult to explain in a few words. Of course, I also suffered a lot. No matter what setbacks I encountered, I persevered, greedily absorbing this precious knowledge like a sponge!
Three years passed in the blink of an eye. My college entrance exam results weren't ideal. I wanted to go to the provincial university of science and technology, but I was still more than a hundred points short. My grandfather said, "Fill it in! I guarantee you'll get in."
I believed in my grandfather's extraordinary abilities; getting me an extra spot was a piece of cake. So, I confidently filled in the university of science and technology as my first choice.
My aunt hoped I would study economics so she could help manage her business. To be honest, I'm an extremist; I'm incredibly passionate about crime-solving and have absolutely no interest in business. Maybe I inherited that gene from my grandfather.
After much deliberation, I finally chose applied electronics—a fairly standard major with supposedly good job prospects. However, when I arrived at school, I discovered there were only three girls in my class. I was filled with regret, but it was too late; I was already on this path.
During the long summer vacation after the college entrance exam, I spent my time at home surfing the internet, watching movies, and playing chess with my grandfather—it was very pleasant.
One day, I went to a classmate's house for a party. We downed two cases of beer. We'd all grown up together, and the thought of going our separate ways to explore the world filled us with both excitement and a touch of reluctance.
After dinner, we went to karaoke and didn't go home until very late.
It was already 11 p.m. when I saw the Song family's old house brightly lit in the distance. My heart skipped a beat; I had a bad feeling! People in our county usually go to bed early. According to custom, only a sudden tragedy would cause so many lights to be on in the middle of the night, like the death of an elder…
In an instant, I sobered up and hurried home, pushing open the door and calling for help, but no one was home.
I went to my grandfather's study and saw a simple envelope on the table. It had no stamp, and a blood-red curved sword was drawn in the lower right corner.
The envelope seemed to contain something
. Curious, I poured the envelope into my hand, and something sticky immediately landed in my palm—it was an eyeball!
Chapter Five: The Death of My Grandfather
The eyeball that fell from the envelope startled me. Could it be my grandfather's? But then I thought it was impossible. My grandfather received the letter first, then disappeared; this eyeball must belong to someone else.
Besides this sticky eyeball, there was nothing else in the letter. This was so strange. What did the sender want to tell Grandpa? Why did Grandpa suddenly disappear?
The more I thought about it, the more confused I became. I scratched my head vigorously and sat down in frustration.
Grandpa always said that you should look beyond the surface to see the essence of things. When you can't understand something, start by considering the most basic point.
I looked around. The things in the study were neatly arranged, and the doors and windows were intact. Grandpa hadn't been forcibly taken away, which meant he left home on his own after receiving the letter.
Since it was a letter, it must convey some kind of information. Only Grandpa could understand this information, so I should be able to understand it too.
The message the sender wanted to tell Grandpa was in this eyeball!
I turned on the desk lamp and carefully examined the eyeball under the light. Judging from the cloudiness of the lens, this eyeball had been detached from the body less than three hours ago. A small section of nerve was attached to the back of the round eyeball. After examining the eyeball for about a minute, I came to two conclusions: First, the victim was still alive when the eyeball was removed; second, the murderer's method was superb—removing the eyeball while the victim was still alive without causing any damage. The eyeball is an extremely fragile organ; this technique is comparable to that of a surgeon!
There were some tiny granular objects on the eyeball. I picked some off and rubbed them with my fingers; they were sawdust. I smelled pine; it had a pine scent.
I remembered there was a timber processing plant north of the county town where pine trees transported from other places were processed into furniture planks. So, this eyeball must have come from there. The sender's message was that someone at the timber processing plant was in mortal danger—an invisible threat—which is why Grandpa rushed to save them! Without
thinking too much, I grabbed a flashlight and ran out of the house. The night was dark, and the occasional barking of dogs echoed through the alleyways. I ran all the way to the north of the county town and saw the timber processing plant standing tall in the darkness.
A wall surrounded the factory, and the large iron gate was open, the lock lying on the ground with a piece of wire stuck in the keyhole.
This proved my judgment was correct; the sender was here, and Grandpa might be inside too. But I felt a little scared. The sender was definitely not a good person. Should I call the police?
At that time, I didn't have a cell phone, and running back to call the police was unrealistic. Every second Grandpa could be in danger.
So I picked up a wooden stick from the ground and walked towards the factory. As I walked, I saw a warehouse with a light on. I immediately turned off my flashlight, gripped the stick tightly with both hands, and carefully felt my way in!
The warehouse was piled high with timber, stacked all the way to the high roof, covered with a tarpaulin. I walked inside, surrounded by silence, feeling uneasy.
Turning a corner, I suddenly saw two people ahead. One was an unfamiliar middle-aged fat man, sitting in a chair, his head tilted to the side, his clothes open. I saw a large blue dragon tattooed on his chest, a rag stuffed in his mouth, and his eye sockets were empty. Strangely, there wasn't a single drop of blood around his eyes, on his face, or on his clothes.
He was holding a black plastic bag, which looked like it contained something!
Another person lay on the open ground not far away, wearing a red Tang suit and cloth shoes with thick soles. I recognized him immediately—it was Grandpa!
Ignoring the middle-aged fat man's condition, I rushed over and threw myself on Grandpa's body. His hands and feet were cold, his heart had stopped beating, and his pupils were slowly dilating. I placed my hand under Grandpa's nose, and after a few seconds, a faint breath came through. (Due to space limitations, follow the WeChat public account (唯漫小说) and reply with the number 416 to continue reading the exciting story.) My eyes instantly welled up with tears. I cried out, "Grandpa, you must hold on! I'll go get someone right away!" I called several times, hoping to rouse him. Grandpa's lips moved slightly, and he said in a very faint voice, "Yang'er."
"Grandpa, don't die! I'll go call an ambulance right away! Call the best doctor!"
"No..." he said with great difficulty, "It's too late."
Hearing this, my heart ached, and hot tears streamed down my face. Grandpa spoke again, very slowly, as if each word was uttered with all his might. I hoped he would conserve his strength, but I dared not interrupt him.
Grandpa said, "Yang'er... Grandpa's time has come... Even if you become a forensic doctor, Grandpa won't stop you... But when you hear the words 'Jiangbei Remnant Blade'... you must... you must stay far away."
I gripped his hand, my voice trembling with sobs: "Grandpa, what Jiangbei Remnant Blade? Is he the bastard who harmed you? I will definitely avenge you."
"No!" He held me tightly with his withered hands, his eyes fixed on mine: "Promise me."
I nodded forcefully.
Grandpa showed a relieved expression, then slowly breathed his last. I knelt on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.
As I cried, I suddenly saw a terrifying black shadow swaying faintly on the ground. My tears stopped instantly. Judging from the position of the light and the clarity of the shadow, the person was right behind me, pressed against me.
But I couldn't detect even the slightest breath of a living person. It seemed like it wasn't a living person at all. I even wondered if the fat man whose eyes were gouged out had come back to life.
No, that was obviously impossible!
The shadowy figure was tall and thin. Just then, his right hand slowly rose, holding something that looked like a hazy, curved knife.
I jumped up, but immediately something cold and sharp was pressed firmly against my waist through my clothes.
The shadowy figure said in a sinister voice, "Don't turn around. If you see my face, you won't leave here alive."
The voice sounded very strange, neither male nor female, neither yin nor yang, as if it had been processed with a special device.
I was both scared and indignant. This person must be the murderer who lured my grandfather here and killed him, but I was unarmed and had no ability to fight back. Even if I was killed here, no one would know.
"What's your name?" the shadowy figure asked. "Song... Yang!" I replied. "So Song Zhaolin has a grandson. Has he taught you anything?" the shadowy figure asked again. “I didn’t teach you anything,” I replied. “Is that so? Heh!” A sinister laugh came from the shadowy figure: “Do you want to live?” (Due to space limitations, follow the WeChat official account (唯漫小说) and reply with the number 416 to continue reading the exciting story!) This time I didn’t answer, I just nodded. “Alright, I’ll give you a question. If you can answer it, I’ll let you go; if you can’t, you’ll go to hell with your grandfather!” I trembled, feeling deeply ashamed of my current incompetence and cowardice. The murderer who killed my grandfather was right there, yet I didn’t even dare to look at him, letting him toy with me like a mouse caught by a cat.
But the desire to live still compelled me to nod.
“This question is very simple. As long as you can figure out how your grandfather died, I’ll let you go!” the shadowy figure said.

(This post was edited by WolaiLe on 2018-09-25 18:24)
srd//boo.bx/fhdms> srd//boo.bx/fhdms>

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/196922.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=196922&aspx=1

Previous Page : 【Filial piety】(3)

Next Page : [A twisted love affair]

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

Flight attendant wife's experience of losing her virginity

comment Open a new window to view comments