Chapter 103: Slender

The temperature in the refrigerators at Langgu County Morgue can reach minus 18 degrees Celsius.

With this basic condition, the autopsy room’s slightly inferior setup is acceptable.

However, even when preserved at minus 18 degrees, a corpse still undergoes some changes. For instance, this body’s color has turned somewhat bluish-black; in the most severe areas, the skin has completely altered, that bluish-black hue resembling the color of Qing dynasty official robes. If the entire body discolors, it might give off a faint zombie-like impression.

Secondly, the most noticeably changed part is the nails. To an ordinary person unfamiliar with forensic science, the nails of a long-preserved corpse appear longer—as if bearing a touch of traditional Chinese zombie imagery—but those who have studied forensic science know it’s not the nails that have grown, but the fingers that have shrunk, making the nails seem longer.

Jiang Yuan observed the corpse; Li Zhen observed him.

In terms of age alone, Li Zhen was nearly three times Jiang Yuan’s age. In terms of seniority, Li Zhen was a forensic pathologist of the same generation as the Wu Army; in their youth, such seniority would have warranted pointing fingers and scolding.

Of course, that’s impossible now. Moreover, Jiang Yuan had been brought by provincial authorities; even if one doesn’t respect the monk, one respects the Buddha—Li Zhen had to show him due respect.

But beyond these social niceties, Li Zhen had no confidence in Jiang Yuan whatsoever.

From Li Zhen’s perspective, the youth’s lack of experience was an objective fact. A young forensic pathologist who has seen few corpses and performed few autopsies simply lacks experience.

Many forensic pathologists rely on practice, emphasizing detail and insight into human life—like how knee wear might stem from work, running, or illness; Li Zhen could tell at a glance, while the intern forensic pathologist would be utterly baffled.

This was still forensic pathology; when advancing further into forensic anthropology, the subtleties multiplied further. Even Li Zhen’s experience wasn’t sufficient to support it.

And Jiang Yuan…

Li Zhen merely sneered inwardly. He had no intention of saying anything harsh—just watched Jiang Yuan work, waiting for him to finish and be politely escorted out.

Jiang Yuan didn’t need Li Zhen’s help either; as long as the man didn’t interfere or nag, Jiang Yuan was already grateful.

The two complemented each other perfectly, making the atmosphere in the autopsy room remarkably harmonious.

The routine external examination yielded little information. Jiang Yuan quickly moved on to the bones.

The abdominal and thoracic cavities were empty; the cranial cavity—the head—was entirely gone. The pelvic cavity was also chaotic, likely torn apart by wild animals, but most of the bones remained, sufficient to reconstruct the pelvis.

Li Zhen’s main task had been reconstructing the pelvis to confirm the corpse’s sex and reproductive status—but still… this was basic forensic work, neither outstanding nor resolving the issue.

Jiang Yuan arranged the bones, thinking deeply.

Forensic anthropology, like other forensic techniques, shares similarities but differs in that it focuses on a single point rather than the whole.

In short, the comprehensiveness of forensic anthropology serves its partial insights.

Or rather, forensic anthropology rarely achieves full comprehensiveness.

After so much time has passed, the better approach is to use the bones to determine certain facts, then infer the victim’s identity from those facts.

Not to endlessly pursue more comprehensive information—some details are simply impossible to capture. Striving for total information is inherently inappropriate.

For Jiang Yuan, the corpse before him had already provided considerable information.

Yet, identifying her identity still seemed difficult.

“The lack of a skull is still troublesome. With a skull, we might have identified the victim through dental records,” Li Zhen suddenly remarked, offering Jiang Yuan a face-saving opening.

As he’d tell his apprentices: if you can’t do it, don’t force it.

Blindly persisting is a common flaw among young forensic pathologists—as if just working harder and harder will produce an answer.

From Li Zhen’s experience, blindly dissecting without direction is seven or eight times out of ten a waste.

Like Jiang Yuan here—he might have some idea, but a young, inexperienced person could never produce anything meaningful.

Especially as Jiang Yuan began fiddling with the arms, moving the legs around, Li Zhen found it laughable.

Autopsies aren’t done like this—randomly poking here and there—it’s pure…

“Marfan syndrome,” Jiang Yuan suddenly straightened up and said.

Li Zhen, older and slower, took several seconds to process it, then repeated: “Marfan syndrome?”

“Yes. Tall stature, slender limbs, very little subcutaneous fat…” Jiang Yuan listed the matching traits, then pulled the corpse’s arm downward: “Hands extend past the knees.”

Each of these traits sounds unremarkable alone, but together, they strongly suggest Marfan syndrome.

In modern populations, Marfan syndrome’s incidence rate is relatively high; many people know carriers of this genetic disorder. Because its features align with modern aesthetics, some Marfan individuals are even popular—especially in youth, many are selected as athletes due to their long limbs and height.

But the destructive effects of Marfan syndrome are also direct.

Various skeletal deformities—like funnel chest or scoliosis—along with heart conditions involving the aorta and mitral valve, and eye abnormalities, cause extreme suffering. The older the patient, the greater the damage.

Li Zhen recalled the key features of Marfan syndrome and compared them one by one.

Eye abnormalities… the head is gone.

Heart disease… the heart has been removed.

Spine and sternum… they’re intact.

Several key indicators were missing, but proving Marfan syndrome wasn’t hard—the difficulty was merely thinking to look for it.

Both Li Zhen and Jiang Yuan focused on the victim’s hands.

Jiang Yuan, wearing gloves, gripped the victim’s hand and made her clench into a “milk fist”—unlike a normal fist, he required her thumb to be inside, with the other four fingers outside.

In this grip, the victim’s thumb tip extended beyond the ulnar edge—the side of the palm where the little finger lies.

Jiang Yuan’s eyes brightened.

If this were a clinical diagnosis, further tests and assessments would be needed.

But on a forensic autopsy table, this discovery was sufficient.

For caution, Jiang Yuan picked up the victim’s right hand and used it to encircle the left.

In a normal person, the thumb and index finger either don’t touch or barely graze. But in a Marfan patient, the thumb can easily cover the index finger…

“It’s definitely Marfan syndrome,” Li Zhen muttered, frustrated: Why didn’t I think of that before?

For forensic pathologists, Marfan syndrome is no unfamiliar symptom. Of course, for Li Zhen, it was somewhat challenging—Marfan syndrome was exceedingly rare in Langgu County, and those who carried the gene rarely died here.

Li Zhen had encountered corpses with Marfan syndrome in prior autopsies; forgetting momentarily was normal… right?

“I’ll call Director Liu,” Jiang Yuan said, removing his gloves.

Li Zhen remained silent.

The corpse was right here—he saw it, and I didn’t. This was pure technical superiority. He had no reply.

With the same skullless corpse, Li Zhen had only thought: “Too bad no teeth,” “No implants inside”—he never spotted Marfan syndrome, which wasn’t surprising.

…

On the other side, Liu Jinghui, upon receiving the call, was momentarily stunned.

After a moment’s thought, he grasped the value of Jiang Yuan’s discovery and asked: “Should we check medical records to narrow down this person?”

“In the missing persons records, search for females over 30, with a history of childbirth, over 165 cm tall, with Marfan syndrome—the number should be small,” Jiang Yuan didn’t elaborate; with Marfan syndrome as the anchor, finding her would be easy.

Liu Jinghui agreed, hung up, and stared blankly ahead.

Opposite him, the enthusiastic chicken vendor had just tied up another large rooster and boasted: “Our Langgu County chickens have been famous since ancient times. These are all sourced from the countryside—raised at least one or two years. Look at these claws, look at this beak…”

He thrust the red-crowned, feathered rooster toward Liu Jinghui, jabbing his finger repeatedly.

Liu Jinghui cleared his throat: “Boss, my plans have changed…”

The vendor’s face darkened, the chicken in his grip falling silent: “I got these for you from the countryside.”

“I know, but it’s just that…”

“Let me tell you, to live is to eat chicken,” the vendor swung the rooster, making it nod its head, then added: “Chicken is good for men.”