Chapter 403: Original Flavor

For his first cranial reconstruction, Jiang Yuan was extremely meticulous, changing the water in the pot twice until the bones were stripped clean of all flesh, as if shaking them lightly would make every last bit fall off.

The remaining bones were not treated so carefully—they were all boiled together in one large pot, skimming off foam and scooping out rotting flesh, discarding excess fat along the way.

"Every time I boil these, it reminds me of back home when we made braising broth," Old Ye said, stirring the steel pot with a thigh bone, his eyes filled with nostalgia: "My grandmother's braising broth was legendary—every New Year she'd make huge batches, with chicken, beef, and mutton, and deliver them to every household."

"That was a family recipe," Wang Zhong, still young, chimed in to support the forensic examiner.

Old Ye nodded heavily. "Later, when I became a forensic examiner, that tradition was lost."

"Why?"

"One year, while boiling broth, I tossed out the meat—just like this. It wasn't long after New Year, and there were many dead bodies. I boiled corpses at the station for a whole week until I got used to it." Old Ye pouted. "That pot of braising broth? The villagers later complained it smelled like formaldehyde—it was wasted. Our family had passed down that braising broth for forty years. Ah, what a pity…"

Wang Zhong felt both sorrow and discomfort. "A family braising broth passed down through generations of forensic examiners?"

He really wanted to say that such a broth was better off wasted.

Old Ye assumed he was merely saddened, sighed deeply again, and added: "You've reminded me—I'll make a pot of braising broth when I go home this year, no matter what."

Jiang Yuan didn't wait for the other bones to finish boiling. He picked up the skull and sat aside, carefully measuring and recording dimensions with a ruler.

Later, this skull would be scanned again, but measuring it himself was the most fundamental step.

While measuring, Jiang Yuan also observed the skull.

The history of cranial reconstruction dates back a long time—it was first proposed in 1877 by the German anatomist Schäferhausen.

That year was the third year of Guangxu in the Qing Dynasty, just two years after Zuo Zongtang carried his coffin into Xinjiang, and thirty-seven years before the outbreak of World War I.

Schäferhausen's theory was simple and direct: he discovered that soft tissue thickness on the human face follows certain patterns, so

if one knows the thickness of soft tissue at various points on the skull,

one can reconstruct the person's facial appearance during life.

Though this theory was over a century old, the framework of cranial reconstruction remained largely unchanged for the next hundred years—only the techniques evolved.

Of course, from a practical standpoint, technological advances made these methods seem simple at the time; viewed from thirty or fifty years later, they were essentially black magic.

The earliest cranial reconstruction was straightforward: first, measure the thickness of facial soft tissues to obtain an average value, then continuously expand and refine these measurements.

A crucial foundation here is that human soft tissue thickness is relatively constant. In simpler terms, fat people only gain fat on their faces—nose bridges, eye sockets, foreheads, and ears typically don't accumulate fat.

Thus, with the skull already available, soft tissue thickness is determined by consulting tables based on the owner's age, ethnicity, gender, and other factors, then accounting for muscles, glands, and other tissues—layer by layer.

But whether it was the original Russian method, the later American method, or today's most common British method, the results of cranial reconstruction were always heavily influenced by the operator's aesthetic sense and technical skill.

This is precisely the greatest difficulty of cranial reconstruction.

Of course, another layer of difficulty stems from technological evolution.

With modern advancements, the old method of using clay and scaffolds has gradually been replaced by computer technology.

In other words, Level 1 cranial reconstruction requires technicians to be familiar with forensic anatomy and possess some artistic aesthetics and sculpting skills; by Level 2 and beyond, you must understand computers and mathematics.

Like this

six-sided warrior—whether in the dating market or a forensic office—he's vanishingly rare.

So as Jiang Yuan measured with increasing precision, Old Ye began to sense something was off.

"What are you doing with that skull for so long?" Old Ye asked.

Jiang Yuan answered honestly: "I'm preparing for cranial reconstruction." Old Ye laughed: "You're joking, right?"

Jiang Yuan said: "No."

Jiang Yuan continued measuring the skull.

Old Ye quickly realized Jiang Yuan wasn't joking.

Jiang Yuan was far too busy to waste time—even if he joked, he'd only make two verbal jokes at most; he wouldn't waste effort on a middle-aged man like him.

Watching Jiang Yuan's serious, methodical steps, Old Ye felt an instinctive pang of discomfort—as if while others were growing brains, he'd missed out.

Jiang Yuan finished measuring the facial features, then stood up to inspect the boiled bones.

Only then did Old Ye finally react, whispering: "Comrade Jiang, when did you learn cranial reconstruction?"

"Just recently," Jiang Yuan replied.

Old Ye frowned: "That… isn't easy to learn. Did you just learn it outright?"

In the understanding of forensic examiners, techniques like cranial reconstruction are either innate—you're born with them, or you're not.

As a veteran forensic examiner, Old Ye had never met two people who truly knew how to do it. Maybe some existed, but none had ever demonstrated it before him. Even Old Ye himself had only learned about it through training or conference briefings.

Jiang Yuan recalled the difficulties he'd faced on his quest for osmanthus, then replied calmly: "To be honest, it wasn't easy—it was full of twists and turns."

Hearing that, Old Ye began to believe him, though his curiosity burned even brighter.

"Can I watch when you do it?" he asked. He wasn't trying to learn—just curious. And from a lottery perspective, he'd never had a chance to encounter cranial reconstruction in his life; maybe he had some hidden talent? Watching wouldn't cost him anything.

Besides, he worried Jiang Yuan might hoard the technique, kick him out, or do it privately.

Jiang Yuan hadn't thought of that at all. If Old Ye wanted to watch, he agreed, then returned to examining the boiled bones.

"Looking at the ratio of foot size to height, the victim was likely from Shannan… The wear on the knees suggests someone who frequently climbed hills—not a sports enthusiast, probably lived on a mountain or worked in a place with constant uphill and downhill terrain?" Jiang Yuan flipped through the bones while instructing Wang Zhong to take notes.

Advanced forensic anthropology constantly informs cranial reconstruction. For example, determining ethnicity: while China's population is relatively homogeneous, there are still various ethnic minorities or foreign residents—someone from Uruguay might just as easily die in a water tank.

Moreover, people from different provinces have distinct facial features: those from the Yellow River basin tend to have yellower skin, thicker eyebrows, and fuller lips. Those from the Yangtze River basin are on average shorter, with paler skin and more single eyelids. Those from the Pearl River basin have darker skin, more prominent frontal bones, and thicker lips.

Additionally, subtypes like the Kham type, Annamite type, and Northeast Asian type each have their own characteristics.

The purpose of these classifications is to determine soft tissue proportions.

From this perspective, only Level 1 anthropology knowledge is sufficient for a basic reconstruction—at least Level 2 forensic anthropology is needed to produce something credible.

Also, Jiang Yuan's footprint analysis and other skills remain applicable.

Jiang Yuan analyzed meticulously; Wang Zhong recorded diligently. Old Ye silently boiled bones, filling the room with fragrance.

······ The next day.

The crows at the funeral parlor cawed loudly.

Red-beaked birds perched on branches or landed on the ground, foraging with almost no caution.

Hou Lejia arrived early at the forensic autopsy room.

Inside, he saw Jiang Yuan holding the skull, studying it intently.

Hou Lejia had received Huang Qiangmin's call the day before—his ears still ached. Seeing this scene, he groaned: "Forensic Jiang, my good Comrade Jiang, can't we just use traditional methods for this case?"

"Are you suggesting we change the investigation direction?" Jiang Yuan, already informed by Huang Qiangmin, lifted his head without surprise.

Hou Lejia looked more worn out than yesterday, dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept well.

He hesitated at Jiang Yuan's question, then whispered: "Not exactly a change in direction—I mean, can't we just examine the bones? Or switch to another cold case?"

"Comrade Hou," came a nasal, squeaky voice from the side—it was Tang Jia, sent over early that morning.

He hesitated under Jiang Yuan's question, then whispered, "It's not about the investigation direction—I'm saying, can't we just look at the bones? Or maybe take on a different cold case…"

"Comrade Hou, even if we switch to another cold case, Director Huang's requirements won't be lowered," Tang Jia said in a cute voice, delivering a cruel message.

Hou Lejia sighed heavily.

Jiang Yuan remained unmoved. The Ningtai County Bureau certainly couldn't afford a CT machine, and Longli County's budget was tight too,

but it was only the start of the year.

"Fine, I'll call someone to install the equipment first—it's still in the testing phase. If you like it later, we'll make the payment," Hou Lejia said, glancing once more at the white skull in Jiang Yuan's arms, then suddenly remembered: "Oh, by the way, the provincial bureau said if you're certain about taking this case, they want to send people over to observe."

"I have no objection," Jiang Yuan replied promptly—he was already used to working under the gaze of various parties.

Hou Lejia left with heavy steps. Provincial personnel coming meant he had to host them—there'd be many of them, and the meal expenses would likely explode.

In the end, the grassroots always bore everything.

"I have no objections," Jiang Yuan replied promptly; he was long accustomed to working under the gaze of all these parties.

Hou Le left with heavy steps; the provincial office had sent people, and it fell to Longli County to host them—there were quite a few of them, and the meal expenses were bound to explode.

In the end, it was always the grassroots that bore everything.