Chapter 342

Money can make even ghosts turn the mill.

Problems that can be solved with money aren't real problems.

With silver in hand, Xiao Jin cleared the way; in the vast capital, finding a corpse that had died within the past day and met the requirements sounded hard, but it wasn't.

Many people meant many deaths every day. Add to that the countless nameless vagrants outside the city, and the options were plentiful.

Leveraging his seasoned nature, he had connections across all walks of life; after spending several hours, he finally found a corpse that met the requirements.

As a jail official, Chen Guanlou could issue a single order and provide all the convenience needed.

Xiao Jin secretly transported the corpse into Tianlaomiao, ensured every detail was perfect, then submitted the death report.

The report was submitted, but for the first two days, there was no response.

According to protocol, if no orders came from above and no one claimed the body within three days, it could be taken out and buried. Corpses couldn't be stored long in the morgue, lest they trigger epidemics.

Besides, the morgue had limited space. Tianlaomiao didn't see deaths every day, but a few corpses every other day was common. With limited space, corpses couldn't be kept long—unless enough silver was paid to move them to a charity mortuary for family pickup.

Chen Guanlou harbored secret hopes that the authorities would completely ignore the death list, go through the motions, and have all bodies buried after three days.

But unexpectedly, just before the end of the workday the next evening, officials from the Ministry of Justice arrived, accompanied by a coroner.

Chen Guanlou stepped forward to receive the Ministry officials, while Xiao Jin led the coroner to the morgue for the autopsy.

"The medical officers have already examined them—these corpses all died from inability to endure the punishment, wounds turning gangrenous, poison spreading to the heart. This one died of old age, that one of illness, that one killed himself by bashing his head against the wall…"

As a seasoned veteran, Xiao Jin was perfectly suited to handle the coroner—it was his moment to shine with his veteran's act. Without a flicker of expression, as if chatting casually, he described the condition of every corpse in the morgue. He gave no undue emphasis, showed no special interest, even appeared disgusted, refusing to step past the threshold. He stood at the door, pointed, and finished his summary.

It perfectly matched the traits of a seasoned jail guard—such behavior was commonplace.

The coroner inspected each body one by one, of course not with great care—just confirming the reported causes of death and checking for other possible causes.

Xiao Jin stood at the door, feigning boredom and impatience, but secretly observing the coroner's actions. He noticed the coroner seemed especially attentive to the corpse that had died of old age—his heart clenched.

The corpse he'd found was indeed old and natural—dry, thin, never exposed to sunlight, covered in filth; with his careful embellishments, it perfectly matched the typical appearance of a Tianlaomiao corpse. Unless one had golden eyes, no one could spot the flaw.

The coroner, with his back turned, hesitated, yet found no reason to doubt. Preferring to avoid trouble, he eventually marked a circle on the report form and approved it, then moved on to inspect the remaining bodies.

Xiao Jin quietly exhaled in relief.

After the inspection, as they saw off the coroner and Ministry officials, he exchanged a glance with Chen Guanlou.

"No problem!"

"No problem!"

They spoke almost in unison—each had done their part. For the Ministry officials, Chen Guanlou handled them effortlessly; among men, once conversation turned to brothels, bonds formed quickly. Chen Guanlou was well-traveled and a regular at brothels; if he wished, his brothel jokes never repeated.

The Ministry officials listened with beaming smiles, even learned a few jokes to show off to their colleagues back at the Ministry.

Easy handling—now they just had to wait until tomorrow, when the bodies could be taken out and buried.

But…

Everything feared the word "but."

Good things didn't come true, but bad things always did.

The very thing Chen Guanlou feared arrived—a messenger from the palace, including an ancient eunuch, so old he gasped with every step and needed support to walk.

The old eunuch said nothing, walked straight into the morgue, heading directly for the corpse that had died of old age.

Chen Guanlou didn't follow. He stood in the small courtyard outside the morgue, perfectly playing his role—he was merely reluctantly accompanying, unwilling to approach the morgue or probe the palace's intentions, well-versed in the art of self-preservation.

Xiao Jin stood beside him, visibly trembling.

Chen Guanlou covered his nose and mouth with a handkerchief and whispered, "Calm down. Why are you nervous?"

"Aren't you worried, my lord?"

Chen Guanlou let out a cold laugh, confident. "It's been days—the corpse is already rotting. What can an old eunuch possibly discover? He's just checking if the body matches his memory. But this man was imprisoned for over thirty years, locked in pitch-dark Tianlaomiao—his appearance changed long ago. Even the old eunuch won't recognize him. Not even his mother or wife could be sure. Unless…"

"Unless what?"

Chen Guanlou clenched his teeth. "Unless the prisoner had a distinctive birthmark."

"Ah!" Xiao Jin panicked instantly—but remembered his place and kept his expression blank.

"What do we do now?"

"Nothing we can do. We just take it one step at a time."

Chen Guanlou was equally agitated.

He hadn't thought of the birthmark before—and even if he had, he couldn't have done anything. He'd never seen Wang Qiren's body, only his face—and even that face was unclear. In the pitch-black Tianlaomiao, with barely any light, and the man's beard and hair a tangled mess from years uncut, he couldn't even guarantee he'd recognize him after a shave.

He'd anticipated that reporting the death might alert the palace.

He'd anticipated a coroner would come to examine the body.

But he never imagined the palace would send an old eunuch to identify the corpse.

Tianlaomiao had no dossier on Wang Qiren—he didn't know any physical traits. The kitchen staff only delivered food and cleaned—they didn't know if Wang Qiren had any birthmarks or scars.

Sigh.

All they could do was leave it to fate.

Today passed with agonizing slowness.

Though the morgue courtyard was grim and eerie, Xiao Jin broke into a cold sweat from nerves.

"Stay calm!" Chen Guanlou, handkerchief over nose and mouth, whispered a reminder.

"Aren't you nervous, my lord?" Xiao Jin whispered back.

"No reason to be nervous. If they ask, say you know nothing. We really do know nothing. We don't even know the prisoner's name or surname. If they insist the corpse isn't him, you insist the man who died here was him. Whether someone swapped the body—we don't know. Who knows when the swap happened? Maybe ten years ago."

Chen Guanlou had decided: if they pressed, he'd muddy the waters completely.

A prisoner with no dossier, locked in the deepest cell, whom no one had ever seen—deny all knowledge, push blame back ten or twenty years. They'd get away with it.