Chapter 237

Move aside, please.

The pot's ready.

Add more water.

Clean the meat off that bone.

In the autopsy room, everyone worked while shouting, the environment slightly noisy.

When facing a major case with multiple forensic pathologists, the work is relatively easier—mainly due to high mental pressure.

Right now, six forensic pathologists were crammed into one autopsy room, with backup staff in the break room; even something as massive as boiling bones became manageable.

A bone too large for one clamp? Two people clamp it together—simple enough.

Most forensic pathologists dislike forensic anthropology, not just because of its high difficulty and low success rate, but also due to excessive workload.

Unless the body is fully skeletonized, most bodies buried only a few years—or drowned corpses pulled from water—require boiling before forensic anthropology analysis can be applied.

Even just the physical labor alone, without considering psychological impact, is exhausting.

Most grassroots units have only one forensic pathologist.

For a slender woman like Wang Lan, working alone in a unit with only one position, boiling a single corpse is genuinely difficult.

She can't dismember first then boil—the blade might accidentally leave marks on the bones, and later no one could tell if they were from her or the killer.

Lifting the pot, filling it with water, pouring it out—each task is hard.

Of course, all this applies to ordinary forensic pathologists.

In criminal investigation, any position that reaches a high technical level deserves special treatment.

Jiang Yuan was able to take the Ningtai County forensic exam because Comrade Wu Jun made a scene, demanding respect for the elderly and young, increased staffing, and reduced workload.

Jiang Yuan now travels daily to handle cases elsewhere because he's exceptionally skilled, and the Ningtai County Criminal Investigation Team has thus gained favor from superiors.

In fact, even without Jiang Yuan's level, any forensic pathologist with a Level 2 forensic anthropology skill can reasonably apply for a forensic assistant.

Take Forensic Pathologist Zhai—he's roughly Level 2+, likely never reaching Level 3, yet he travels across the province offering guidance and still thrives.

Forensic anthropology is just too difficult.

Its difficulty coefficient is similar to image analysis in criminal investigation. But unlike image analysis, there aren't abundant high-value talents on the market.

Forensic anthropology is not only hard, but few study it, and opportunities to use it are rare.

Forensic Pathologist Zhai originally thought Jiang Yuan's forensic anthropology skills were barely at an introductory level—slightly better than average, just usable—that was already an overestimation of Jiang Yuan.

After all, Jiang Yuan is young, and anthropology demands extensive accumulation.

After Jiang Yuan noticed the special nature of the body bag, Forensic Pathologist Cheng had already begun to appreciate his perceptiveness.

But when the bones were boiled clean and laid out one by one on the autopsy table, Cheng realized Jiang Yuan's skill was far beyond an introductory level.

From the very first step of reassembling the body, Forensic Pathologist Zhai fell far behind Jiang Yuan's pace.

Reassembling a body is something medical students can do, but even then, there are clear tiers of skill.

The weakest students must work top-down, searching for each bone and constantly adjusting.

Strong ones like Jiang Yuan pick up a bone and casually place it on the table—its position is almost perfect.

This effortless technique is something Zhai can do too, but it's far from easy.

Zhai was older, his energy and strength already lagging; after a few moments of distraction, he heard Jiang Yuan begin his analysis:

"Victim one, age between 35 and 40, female…"

"Height around 160 cm…"

"Shoulder injury, cervical spondylosis, knee joint damage…"

Zhai had been reassembling bones from another pot; hearing Jiang Yuan already issuing conclusions, he abandoned his work and turned to examine Jiang Yuan's bones for verification.

Naturally, every judgment was correct.

For judging age and gender, Jiang Yuan could now look at a single bone and deduce 70–80% of the truth.

This sounds like basic forensic anthropology, but it's actually extremely difficult.

Ordinary forensic pathologists who aren't skilled in anthropology usually need the pelvis to make judgments.

Even a skull won't help much.

Some people, even alive, you can't tell their gender from their face; after death, you're handed a skull and expected to determine gender—it's very hard.

It's not impossible, but if a forensic pathologist misjudges gender once in four attempts, would the criminal investigation team accept such a conclusion?

So for ordinary forensic pathologists, the pelvis is reliable—it also provides age and whether the victim gave birth.

The pelvis is essentially the fool's treasure chest.

Here we might also mock the killer's limited knowledge. Dismembering and hiding the head is truly unnecessary. Except when fresh, the face might still be recognizable; after a few days of storage without preservatives, even a spouse couldn't name the skull.

As for skull reconstruction—only a few experts in big cities can do it; ordinary criminal investigation teams have no such resources.

So if you want to evade detection after murder, hiding the pelvis is better than hiding the head—but that's a more brazen provocation: "The villagers of Nancun bully my old weakness—kill, remove the arm, leave the head, openly dismember and abandon me here."

The end result will always be a Level 0. forensic pathologist calling friends, even summoning Level 3 anthropology masters.

At Level 3, every single bone provides massive information.

Forget gender—just one rib can determine time of death.

But the limitation of anthropology lies here.

Aside from gender, age, height, and other basic info, time of death is never very accurate.

The more detailed the information, the more accuracy and difficulty diverge into opposite extremes.

"That's about it." Jiang Yuan finished reassembling one skeleton and had given all possible information.

For the current stage of the criminal investigation, the usable data is still limited.

Forensic Pathologist Zhai nodded slightly. He couldn't add anything more.

"Shall we move to the second body?" Jiang Yuan still looked to Zhai.

"Fine, you take it," Forensic Pathologist Cheng decisively stepped aside.

He wasn't skilled in bone analysis anyway; faced with someone like Jiang Yuan, he gladly yielded.

Jiang Yuan didn't hesitate—he reassembled the bones in minutes, then analyzed:

"Victim two, age between 30 and 35, female, height around 165 cm. Time of death: three to five years ago. Hallux valgus, likely wore high heels regularly, has childbirth scars, gave birth…"

Forensic Pathologist Zhai nodded in agreement.

Forensic Pathologist Niu said: "So two young women."

Forensic Pathologist Cheng, who had been muttering "me too," now shook his head: "No need to conclude yet. Is the next one boiled?"

"Still a while," Forensic Pathologist Niu wrinkled his nose, patted his stomach, and sighed: "Today's just a diet."

Jiang Yuan continued examining the two previous bodies.

Information like age and gender had been thoroughly studied by predecessors, repeatedly compared and researched across different bones.

But deriving complex conclusions—like occupation—is extremely difficult. It can't be guessed by casual observation; it requires comparing and arranging multiple scenarios.

He studied until late at night, then everyone dispersed to sleep.

In Jiang Yuan's dreams, he saw nothing but white bones.

And boiled body parts.

Floating body fat.

In his dreams, there was even more fat—modern people are generally overweight, so large amounts of grease are statistically more likely.

The next morning.

The sixth day since Liu Jinghui went missing.

Someone came to report: "The motorcycles have arrived."

The forensic pathologists, who had spent the whole day in the meat-boiling room, rushed out en masse.

Xu Taining had brought a semi-trailer into the funeral home.

The vehicle was covered in black cloth; nothing inside could be seen.

People who had come early to the funeral home to see off the deceased stared at the massive truck and began whispering.

"Something big happened."

"A multi-car pileup?"

"Didn't hear anything—whose family could die in a whole truckload?"

The driver, hearing this, felt it was inappropriate and drove the truck deeper into the funeral home.

Soon, funeral home officials, alerted by the buzz, came over to investigate.

Then they saw several motorcycles circling the courtyard, each with a white ghost floating above it…