Bianjing Mansion, mortuary. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

"The male corpse, about fifty years old, with sound limbs and superior nutrition. Corpse spots and zombies exist, and corpse spots appear in the low parts of the body, especially on the back and arms, and are dark red. There is no pigmentation of the skin of the whole body, and there is no edema of the eyelids. Obvious bloody foamy discharge may be seen in the mouth and nasal cavity, and cyanosis of the lips. The chest wall is flat, symmetrical, and no other abnormalities are seen in the limbs and lower body. The deceased had no obvious external injuries and could not determine the cause of death, so Master was asked to use the knife. ”

Wei Yi looked at the male corpse lying on the morgue and spoke slowly.

Murong Jin looked serious and took the knife.

The sharp blade touched the chest and abdomen of the deceased, and a stream of dark red blood poured out.

"Vomit—"

Wei Yi only felt that there was a mountain and sea in his chest, and a stream of air poured out of his throat, making him unable to help himself.

Murong Jin shouted sharply, "Get out!" ”

Wei Yi tried hard to suppress the urge to vomit, and raised his feet to walk out after answering the "yes".

Outside, he looked at the scorching sun and clenched his fists.

Still no!

Even if he has seen countless murder scenes and touched countless dead bodies, he just can't pass the autopsy level!

He couldn't witness the dead man's disembowelment, let alone hold the scalpel!

Master is old, his body is not as good as before, and he has been handed over countless times for resignation, if he does not learn to dissect as soon as possible, how can he stand alone?

Although he is famous, and the "Seven Broken" detectives are like thunder, he understands that without Master's pair of autopsy hands, he would not be able to get a glimpse of the truth of many murders.

So, he had to adapt as soon as possible, as soon as possible, and pick up the scalpel as soon as possible!

Thinking of this, he took a deep breath and walked towards the morgue again.

"Brother Wei."

A voice stopped him, and he turned around, it was his colleague Wu Zhaoyan.

"Here we are." He replied.

Wu Zhaoyan is in charge of correction, and he is the youngest among his colleagues, and his qualifications are also the lightest, but he is very sleek and sophisticated. On weekdays, he respects the governor of the house, and he always shows a bit of admiration for him, and the "big brother" and "big brother" are affectionate.

Wu Zhaoyan walked a few steps quickly, greeted Wei Yi, and saluted again with his hands.

"Brother Wei, are you busy with official business today?" He asked with a smile.

Wei Yi let out a "hmm".

Heavy snow sealed the capital, and there were frozen bones on the road. Now that the snow has melted, the morgue is full of corpses, and it is up to him and Master to check the cause of death one by one.

However, he didn't think that Wu Zhaoyan, who was also in Bianjing Mansion, would not know about these situations, so he didn't want to explain too much.

"What about Uncle Murong? Still busy inside? Wu Zhaoyan asked again.

"Hmm." Wei Yi answered again, and saw that he was holding a package, so he asked, "Is there something wrong with you?" ”

Wu Zhaoyan smiled, "It's a little bit of a thing, and it's not a big deal." ”

As he spoke, he opened the package, revealing a white-faced porcelain jar with an iron mouth on a black background.

"I heard that Uncle Murong is a native of Hunan and Chu, and he is delicious and spicy. Coincidentally, although my Wu family is a native of Beijing, it is okay. A while ago, relatives brought a jar of spicy cabbage, and when the family tasted it, they were all authentic and delicious. So as soon as the sky was good, Zhaoyan hurriedly brought an altar for Uncle Murong to taste. ”

Wei Yi was about to reply, and Murong Jin walked out of the mortuary.

"What do you want the old man to taste?" He had apparently heard the conversation between the two.

Wu Zhaoyan hurriedly lifted the lid of the altar and handed it forward, "Spicy cabbage, Murong Bo ......"

"Please call the old man to raise the sentence, Wu corrects." Murong Jin put his hands behind him, and his expression was cold.

Wu Zhaoyan's brain suddenly oozed a little cold sweat, and his well-behaved face became stiff in an instant, not smiling, not smiling. Awkwardly, his hands were even more out of the air, and it was not possible to retract it, nor was it to retract it.

Wei Yi knows his master's temperament and has always hated flattery. As a colleague, Wu Zhaoyan does not call the official position but calls "uncle", in the eyes of the master, he intends to bring the relationship between the two closer and do something to welcome flattery.

Although he couldn't get used to Wu Zhaoyan's words and deeds, but the master threw a "slap" in public, Wu Zhaoyan was young after all, and he might not be able to bear it.

"Master, this spicy cabbage looks brightly colored, the leaves are full, juicy, and it smells even more fragrant, even Wu Jianzheng praises it, don't you want to taste it?" Wei Yi took the porcelain altar with both hands and glanced at Wu Zhaoyan.

Wu Zhaoyan was amnesty, and sneered, "Yes, it's really delicious, Daddy is delicious, Murong can taste it." ”

Warm back to the field, he understood that staying for a long time would only increase the embarrassment, so he patted his head, bowed down and said, "Ah, Zhaoyan still has official business, don't bother, say goodbye, say goodbye." ”

After speaking, he walked out of the punishment mansion with his feet up, and he didn't even care if he bumped into the official who came in a hurry.

"The square Wu Dingru actually has a son who is not round, joke!" Murong Jin raised his eyes to look at Wu Zhaoyan's back, and said without being salty or indifferent.

Wei Yi couldn't help but be happy.

"Master's joke is really good." He laughed.

Murong Jin glanced at him, but he couldn't help but sniff.

He glanced at the porcelain altar in his hand.

"You want to eat it, you take it!" He said with a dark face.

Wei Yi smiled even deeper, "You can't eat spicy ......"

By this time, the official had already run to him.

"My lord, there was a murder case in the oil mill on the outskirts of Beijing!" The official reported loudly.

Without waiting for Wei Yi to react, Murong Jin quickly hugged the porcelain altar with both hands.

"Why don't you go yet?!" He glared.

"Yes, Master!" Wei Yifei ran out.

******

The outskirts of Beijing, oil mills.

Wei Yi cleared the crowd, followed behind him to record, put on gloves, foot covers and masks, and walked into the oil mill.

"Ordinary storefront, south-facing shop, north-facing dwelling, a courtyard in the middle, piled up sundries, the murder occurred in the east wing of the house, which is the daily residence of a family of three in the oil mill."

"The courtyard is messy, the footprints are messy, brooms, oil paper bags, shortbread, and dirt can be seen everywhere, and there are obvious traces of pulling and entanglement."

He walked all the way east, to the wing, and pushed the door in.

"The door panel is completely new, but it is full of oil, scratches, and dirt."

Leaned closer to a solidified yellow filth and looked at it.

"Snot?!"

He couldn't help frowning.

Walking into the wing, his brow furrowed even tighter.

"The smell is terrible, the smell is overwhelming, the smell of oil, the smell of chicken manure, the smell of urine, the smell of dampness, the smell of mildew - how to live?"

Looking at it, he shook his head frequently.

"The walls and floors are covered with oil, the grain and food are piled up in the corners, the dirty pots and pans are piled up, and the mattresses and cloth towels emit a foul smell - how do you live?"

Looking at the ground, seven or eight dead chickens were lying on their ground.

He picked up a chicken and examined it carefully, then put it down again, lined up the dead chickens, and saw the clues.

"All the chickens died in a posture with their heads and feet twisted backwards – obvious symptoms of poisoning."

Pick up the chicken's trough.

"Shortbread, shortbread, all shortbread? Oilmills feed chickens with shortbread? ”

He handed over the chicken and the trough to the clerk and instructed, "Wrap it up and take it back to the government for inspection." ”