Southern Song Dynasty, Lin'an Prefecture, late autumn of the sixth year of Chunyou
The continuous rain has turned the bluestone roads in Lin'an City black. The red lacquer door of "Baojingzhai" in the west of the city is tightly closed, and the copper bells under the eaves ring softly in the wind, like a low cry.
In the early morning, the waiter Chen Er rushed to open the door with an oil-paper umbrella, but saw dark red blood seeping from the crack of the door. His heart tightened, and he knocked on the door and entered - inside the main room, the shopkeeper Zhou Mingyuan fell on his back, with a bronze dagger stuck in his chest, his eyes wide open, as if staring at the empty shelf on the roof. On the shelf, the "Han Dynasty translucent mirror" that had just been collected was supposed to be displayed, but now there is only a dust mark left.
"Come here! Come here!" Chen Er fell to the ground, his voice trembling.
Half an hour later, the sound of horse hooves from the government office shattered the rain curtain. Shen Zhiwei carried the medicine box on his back and followed Zuo into the scene. She was wearing a plain-colored skirt, her hair was pulled low, and her eyebrows were cold, like a white porcelain Guanyin. But when she knelt down, put on her deerskin gloves, and touched the corpse's neck with her fingertips, her fierce aura made all the men present quietly hold their breath.
"The time of death was between midnight and midnight last night." She whispered. "The pupils were dilated, and there were no foreign objects in the mouth and nose. The wound was two and three inches deep, going straight to the heart - he was killed with one knife, and there was no sign of struggle."
Wu Zuo nodded: "It was indeed done by a skilled hand."
