The Glazed Sea City in late spring was shrouded in salty mist, and the hem of Xie Wujiu's green shirt was stained dark by dew. He squatted next to the seventh wooden stake on the pier, watching the bronze mask on the corpse's face glowing with a strange green light in the morning light.
"Get out of the way!" The Caobang disciples used their scabbards to separate the crowd of onlookers, and the iron chains dragged on the bluestone making a harsh sound. Xie Wujiu's fingertips paused behind the corpse's ears - three silver needles were neatly inserted into the Fengchi point, with a tiny nine-petaled lotus carved on the end of the needle.
"What does Dr. You know about autopsy?" The red-robed man squeezed into the crowd, the copper bell on his waist jingling. When he opened the clothes of the corpse, Xie Wujiu smelled the familiar smell of bitter almonds.
"Wait a minute." He pressed Wu Zuo's hand and slipped a deerskin glove from his sleeve, "This corpse cannot be touched."
