He had killed in the palace itself—under their very noses. An hour had passed, and yet clues still surfaced. Mo Yun would not believe the killer could slip away that easily.
The guards snapped to attention and answered in unison, “Yes, Your Majesty!”
Liu Rumei stood a moment, staring at the body, then let out a quiet sigh. The missing right leg—there was no doubt about it. The killer had taken it.
Mo Yun’s face was a storm. He was silent for a long beat before his gaze finally settled on Liu Rumei, ice threading his eyes. “Liu,” he said, “do you remember what I told you?”
She pursed her lips and inclined her head. “I remember, Your Majesty.”
“Good.” He snorted. “You have six days.”
With that curt pronouncement, he swept his sleeve and left.
Liu Rumei felt the helplessness press against her ribs. The murderer had struck again so brazenly today; Mo Yun’s impatience was understandable. But the killer’s madness only deepened the mystery. If it wasn’t Song Changan—then what was his purpose? If it was Song Changan, what did he intend to do with those bodies?
Empress Qi watched with a weary expression. Mo Yun had the luxury of leaving; she did not. As the woman who managed the inner palace, she had to stay and see this through. Resigned, she forced herself forward. When she looked at the small eunuch’s features, her brow tightened.
A maid nearby murmured, “Your Majesty, isn’t this the little eunuch who serves Consort Qi?”
Empress Qi’s lips flattened. “Such a pity.”
Mo Litian took in his mother’s tired face and felt an ache in his chest. “Mother,” he said softly, “this place is filthy. Return to the inner palace. Leave this to me.”
Hearing that, Empress Qi’s eyes softened. After so many years in the palace, this son was the one thing she could still be proud of. She gave him a small, grateful smile and did not refuse.
“Liu,” Mo Litian said, “we’ll leave this in your hands.”
Liu Rumei inclined her head. “Very well.”
Mo Liandi remained by her side, his expression unreadable as he watched the clean sweep of her skirt take on grime. He sighed at the stain. Turning to Mo Litian, he said, “The guard who was with you yesterday had something wrong with him. I used every method I could, but he would not speak. The one thing I can confirm is that the body’s left leg was taken by him and handed to the killer. As for Consort Xiao… if suspicion points at Consort Zhang, whether that’s true or not will take more time.”
Mo Litian pressed his lips together. “That little eunuch was the one beside Consort Qi. Could Consort Qi have been involved in Consort Xiao’s death?”
Mo Liandi gave a cold laugh, the sound edged with contempt. “Do you think any woman in the harem is spotless?”
Liu Rumei frowned, her face a tangle of conflicting thoughts. She studied the marks on the corpse and said, “He fought the killer before he died.”
The scratches were faint but similar to the ligature traces found at the previous crime scenes—only shallower on the little eunuch. How could someone have been dismembered so quickly? How had Imperial Physician Xu and Commander Xiao been sliced apart in an instant? It was impossible.
If this were the modern age there might be plausible explanations, but in the past—no high technology, no futuristic tools. If blades were used, they should have left obvious traces. Besides, when Xu and Commander Xiao died, Consort Zhang and the guards had not seen any weapons.
The puzzle tightened around Liu Rumei’s brow.
Mo Liandi watched her frown and a cold light flitted through his gaze. “Liu,” he asked bluntly, “why were you here today? Weren’t we supposed to meet at Zilan Pavilion? With Consort Zhang?”
Liu Rumei didn’t notice his tone; she was engrossed in her work. “Consort Zhang wanted to take a walk today, so I accompanied her. I didn’t expect to run into Consort Qi.”
Mo Liandi’s expression shifted. He had suspected Consort Zhang already—between the trap in Zilan Pavilion, the intruder who burst in, Consort Xiao’s death, and now Zhang bringing Liu here—everything pointed at her. Mo Litian frowned as well. “Consort Zhang is suspicious. Consort Xiao was closest to her before she died. All signs point to Zhang.”
Liu Rumei’s features grew clouded, but she could not defend Zhang on the spot. Mo Liandi crouched down to be level with her and said quietly, “Liu, stay away from her for now. Leave the case to me.”
“How could I?” Liu Rumei set her jaw. “I promised His Majesty I would solve this. This is my case.”
She wanted to know whether the killer was Song Changan, what he intended to do with the corpses, and what kind of murderer could disassemble a body in an instant. It was the kind of puzzle she’d been cut out to solve.
Mo Liandi looked at her hands—delicate, stained with dust and blood—and felt a ridiculous flare of jealousy. He might have been losing his mind.
Mo Litian watched them both and felt a hollow at the back of his throat. He agreed with his brother—this killer’s next target was anyone’s guess. If the murderer fixed his gaze on Liu Rumei…
“You should let me explain to the palace. Don’t—” he began.
Liu Rumei cut him off. “I am a coroner. I won’t leave.”
Cases like this came so rarely; she could not turn away.
Both brothers looked at her stubbornness and shared the same helpless expression.
A shout erupted then, cutting through the grim hush.
“Fire! There’s a fire!”
“Fire!”
“Your Majesty—Empress, she’s still inside!”
The words fell like hot coals. Panic flared around them as servants and guards rushed toward the burning wing, their shouts swallowed by the crackling that had just begun.