"Corpses don't lie. It's the living who do."
In the twelfth year of Shaoxing, a temple was destroyed in the west of Lin'an City, and a charred corpse was discovered.
The female widower Li Aman squatted next to the corpse, brushing her fingertips over the charred skin——
Broken fingers after death, pinholes in the soles of feet, missing rings...
Every trace tells a lie.
Xiao Yun, the judge of Dali Temple, visited late at night and claimed to be an ally.
But Aman knew that he was lying.
His left hand is missing a little finger.
There was darkness deep in his eyes.
His gentleness is the most deadly poison.
This is a story about autopsy, about truth, and about love.
It is also a story about how to find light in darkness.
Intention: The dead have no words, but the dead have voices.
Aman spent his life proving that justice will not come by itself, someone needs to fight for it.
Even if she is a female widow who is looked down upon by others, even if the road ahead is full of thorns, she will continue on.
Because she knows——
What she examined was not the corpse, but the human heart.
What she solves is not the case, but the injustice of this world.