She Stares from the Abyss

[Ancient Imagination] + [Detection] + [Strong Alliance] + [Suspense] + [Genius] + [Inference] In the autumn of the fourteenth year of Yongzhao, Song Chen, the Minister of Punishment, took over a bone case, but encountered a girl in plain clothes in the autopsy room holding a knife to cut bones. Her fingertips were stained with blood, but she accurately picked out half a piece of broken jade from the deceased's throat, and said in a cold voice: "Those who are extremely poisoned will have their hyoid bones turn blue." The scalpel, as thin as a cicada's wing, reflected the candlelight, illuminating the small bright red mole between her eyebrows - it was none other than Wen Renyue, the ghost-hand puppet who was rumored to be able to communicate with yin and yang. Song Chen had never seen such a woman. She could smell the peculiar aroma of southern Xinjiang Gu insects in the abdominal cavity of rotting corpses, and could tell from the gaps between the teeth of charred corpses that kerosene was mixed with rosin from the Western Regions. But when the twelve female corpses from the "Red Thread Case" were sent to Dali Temple, the usually calm widower actually dropped the knife on the corpses with a trembling blood line on their wrists. Song Chen looked at her pale side face and suddenly remembered the dusty old case in the file: Fifteen years ago, there was a plague in the south of the Yangtze River, and the coroner heard that everyone died because of the blood line wrapped around the wrist. Exploring a case is like unraveling a nine-link chain, with fangs hidden in every mystery. The gold-leaf Buddhist scriptures falling from the corpse-burning case on the boat, and the pool of blood solidifying into lotus flowers in the salt merchant's murder case, all point to the depths of the imperial city. Song Chen deduced the chess game with a red pen, and Wen Renyue tapped the netherworld with a silver needle. The two of them weaved a web of clues, but they didn't know that they had already become chess pieces in the hands of others. The chaos in the court intersects with the whispers of corpses, and the emotions that grow in the game of life and death are more deadly than arsenic. When the crescent moon of blood reappeared in the imperial mausoleum, the pair who had torn apart the mask of the world were shocked to realize that the most perfect game was to serve as bait for each other.