novelaction Chapter 922 Shopkeeper
Chapter 922 Shopkeeper
Su Yan shouted and pressed down with all his strength. With a loud "bang", the bronze tripod exploded, and the blue light disappeared instantly. The Soul Devourer let out a shrill scream, and his body began to collapse, and the black mist gradually dissipated. The old man looked at Su Yan and smiled with relief: "Thank you, Captain Su, Chang'an is saved." His body began to become transparent, "Over the years, we have been burdened with too many sins, it's time to end..." Before he finished speaking, the old man's figure turned into starlight and dissipated in the air. The tomb was shaking violently, Su Yan endured the pain and evacuated quickly with the remaining yamen runners. The moment they rushed out of the ancient tomb, there was a loud earth-shaking noise behind them, and the entire mountain began to collapse. After the dust settled, the former entrance to the ancient tomb had been buried under the boulders, as if it had never existed. Su Yan looked at the rising sun, and the sword in his hand was still trembling slightly. This thrilling battle finally ended, but he knew that as a Dali Temple constable, his mission to protect Chang'an would never end. In the days to come, there might be new crises and new mysteries waiting for him to face, but he was already prepared. For the tranquility of Chang'an and the peace of the people, he would move forward bravely and never retreat.
Strange Autopsy The autopsy room of Kaifeng Prefecture is hidden deep in the west of the government office. The heavy blue brick walls isolate the noise from the outside world, but they cannot lock the gloomy atmosphere accumulated in the house for years. Zhao Mo lifted the faded coarse cloth curtain, and a stench mixed with the smell of wormwood smoke, the bitter smell of medicine and the smell of rotten meat hit him in the face, making him subconsciously hold his breath. The room was dimly lit, with only two swaying oil lamps. The jumping flames made the human meridian map hanging on the wall dim, and the red and blue interlaced lines seemed to be alive and twisted and squirming. The coroner, Lao Zhou, was hunched over, holding a thin silver needle in his skinny fingers, gently poking the swollen skin of the deceased. The hem of his gray cloth gown was stained with dark red stains, and the cowhide medicine bag hanging around his waist was shiny due to long-term use, and it contained a variety of autopsy tools. Seeing Zhao Mo coming in, Old Zhou didn't even raise his head, but just pointed at the dissection table with his chin: "You're just in time, this corpse is full of evil." Zhao Mo walked to the dissection table, resisted the discomfort in his stomach, and looked at the dead body. After being soaked in the river water, the originally strange purple-blue skin became even more terrifying, and a layer of sticky white film appeared on the surface. Old Zhou inserted the silver needle into the strangled mark on the neck of the dead person, and took it out after a while. The tip of the needle turned into a strange blue-black color: "Captain Zhao, this woman was indeed strangled to death, but this strangled mark..." He raised the oil lamp and moved closer, and the jumping flame illuminated the edge of the strangled mark, where the fine flesh was rolled up and down, as if it was repeatedly twisted by a rough hemp rope. "Ordinary ropes will only leave smooth indentations, but the edges of this mark are jagged, it seems that it was made by a thorny vine, or..." Old Zhou suddenly fell silent, his Adam's apple rolled up and down, and his turbid eyes moved restlessly. "Or?" Zhao Mo asked, staring at the strangled mark. Old Zhou swallowed his saliva and lowered his voice: "Or it could be the tentacles of some living creature. Ten years ago, I saw a fisherman dragged to death by a water ghost. The marks on the body were somewhat similar to this..." Before he finished speaking, Zhao Mo frowned and interrupted: "Uncle Zhou, where did the water ghost come from under the feet of the emperor of Bianjing? It must be man-made." Although his tone was firm, he couldn't help but feel a chill in his heart - if it was really man-made, why would the murderer use such a weird method? Old Zhou stopped arguing and grabbed the dead man's stiff arm. Under the light of the oil lamp, the black debris in the dead man's fingernails was clearly visible. The debris was granular, and if you look closely, it was mixed with dark red silk. Old Zhou carefully picked up some with tweezers, put it in front of his nose and sniffed it, his face turned pale in an instant: "This is not charcoal, but it looks like burnt flesh and blood. But if it is really human flesh, how can it have such a strong fishy smell?" His voice trembled, and the debris on the tweezers fell off, splashing tiny blood foam on the dissection table. Zhao Mo's heart was filled with alarm, and he quickly took out a half piece of silk wrapped in oil paper from his arms: "Uncle Zhou, take another look at this. It was picked up from the Hongqiao boat awning. It is made of the same material as the deceased's wedding dress, and there are scratches on the edge." Old Zhou took the silk and compared it carefully under the oil lamp. As he moved, the corpse on the dissection table suddenly made a dull "gurgling" sound - that was the sound of the decayed gas escaping from the corpse's abdomen. Zhao Mo subconsciously stepped back half a step, but saw that Old Zhou seemed not to hear it, squinting his eyes and rubbing the edge of the silk repeatedly: "It is indeed the same piece of material. Look at the mandarin duck pattern embroidered with gold thread, the stitches are exactly the same. The deceased must have had a fierce struggle with the murderer before his death." At this moment, hurried footsteps suddenly came from outside the door, and then a clerk broke open the door and rushed in. The hem of his official uniform was stained with mud, his hair was crooked, and his face was full of fear: "Captain Zhao! Something happened in the east of the city again! There is a body wearing red clothes floating in the moat, and the death... is very similar to this woman!" Zhao Mo's face suddenly changed, and the sword on his waist hit the dissection table due to excessive movement, making a crisp sound. He didn't bother to say goodbye to Lao Zhou, and turned around and ran towards the east of the city with the yamen runners. The moat in the east of the city was full of people, and discussions were heard one after another. "This is the second incident. Did it offend the red-clothed evil spirit?" "I heard that a woman who committed suicide in red clothes will turn into a fierce ghost..." Zhao Mo squeezed through the crowd, and the scene in front of him made his pupils shrink suddenly-a body was floating on the river, a young scholar. The man was wearing a bright red wedding dress and a top scholar hat. There was still rouge on his pale and swollen face that had not dried up, which looked particularly weird in the twilight. "Everyone, get out of the way! Kaifeng Prefecture is investigating the case!" Zhao Mo and the yamen runners pulled the body ashore. The marks on the scholar's neck were exactly the same as those on the woman before, and there were also black debris between his fingernails. What was even more eye-catching was that there was an unfinished letter scattered beside him. The rice paper was wrinkled by the river water, and the ink was smudged into dark clouds: "I'm sorry, I shouldn't..." The second half of the sentence was blurred by the water stains, leaving only distorted strokes. Zhao Mo squatted down to pick up the letter, and suddenly noticed the sachet hanging on the scholar's waist. The sachet was exquisitely embroidered with a lotus pattern, and the color of the silk thread was the same as the gold thread on the deceased's wedding dress. He carefully untied the sachet, and half a jade pendant fell out of it. The jade was warm and smooth, and it was carved with auspicious patterns of dragons and phoenixes. "Captain Zhao, the deceased still has this in his arms!" A yamen runner handed over a blood-stained handkerchief with the word "Xiu" embroidered in the middle of the handkerchief - the word in the name of the previous female victim, Li Xiuniang. There was a sudden commotion in the crowd. A middle-aged man in luxurious clothes broke through the obstruction and threw himself beside the corpse, crying loudly: "My son! Why did you..." Zhao Mo stepped forward to ask, only to find out that this man was the owner of Li's Silk Shop in the east of the city.