The Corpse Whisperer in Song China

The dead cannot cry out for justice.

But a bruise on a corpse, a callus, a speck of dirt beneath a fingernail: all of them can speak.

His job is to crouch down and finish what they have to say.

It all begins with a body washed ashore. Step by step, this little coroner, looked down on by everyone, finds his way into Lin'an's darkest corners.

A coffin shop that lends money at usurious rates, grain ships sailing the canal by night, taciturn officers of the Imperial City Bureau, and a vast web of spies from the Jin that has been woven over many years.

He never wanted to get involved in matters of state.

He only wanted to repay his twenty strings of cash in debt, marry his sweetheart with a joyful celebration, and give the few unfortunate souls around him a few peaceful days.

But some things come looking for you, whether you seek them out or not.

He knows better than all the ministers at court what will happen in Storm Pavilion when the new year comes.

And how many Han Chinese corpses will rise from the sea off Yashan more than a century later.

He crouches on the threshold of the charity cemetery, chewing half a cold flatbread as he squints at the countless lights of Lin'an.

"Whatever."

Since Heaven has given him another chance at life, someone has to reach out and push back against this world.