At three in the morning in the forensic center, beneath the cold light of the surgical lamps, Yi Ze holds a strand of hair in his tweezers. It was just pulled from the stomach of a “drowning” victim. Salt crystals from the sea cling to its roots, utterly unlike the freshwater of the river where the body was dumped.
As the city's youngest chief forensic pathologist, Yi Ze has eyes like precision instruments. He estimates time of death from the thickness of the corneal arcus, reconstructs murder weapons from the shape of fractures in the bones, and identifies suspects from fibers trapped beneath fingernails... Like Sherlock Holmes, he weaves a net from the details and makes cold, lifeless bodies “speak.”
But nobody knows that a silver bracelet from ten years ago is hidden in his desk drawer. As clues from a string of murders gradually point to his younger sister's “accident,” Yi Ze must struggle between professional reason and personal obsession. Are the “testimonies” of the dead the key to solving the case, or bait leading into the abyss?
