"Can you determine what kind of poison it was?"
Song Yu's eyes were clouded with gloom. Upon hearing a definitive answer, his heart remained eerily calm.
Yue Qing shook her head. "Your Highness, I can only estimate the time of poisoning based on the darkening of the bones—no more than six months before death."
Six months.
That aligned perfectly with the time Shen Hua'er had entered the household.
"Very well. This timeline is sufficient. Mei Zhilin has confirmed that Song Ling's symptoms match those caused by the 'Life-Sacrifice Pill.' If we send people to search the Ping Prince's Mansion and fail to find the pill, Shen Hua'er will have no defense left."
Song Yu straightened his expression and turned to Song Shihuan.
"Ahuan, I must now go to the palace to report this matter to your grandfather. As for the aftermath here..."
Before Song Yu could finish, Song Shihuan curled her lips into a faint smile. "Father need not worry. I will handle the aftermath."
With that, Song Yu hurriedly departed the imperial mausoleum.
Beside the tomb, Song Shihuan studied the woman before her. "You've done well. I will request a reward for you. What would you like?"
"Your Grace, darkened bones indicating poisoning is basic knowledge for a coroner. It is no great feat," Yue Qing replied evenly, neither humble nor arrogant. "The other two coroners simply lacked the courage to examine the bones."
How interesting.
A trace of amusement flickered in Song Shihuan's eyes.
Yue Qing continued, "As a coroner, this is my duty. I dare not ask for any reward."
"In that case, you may leave."
Yue Qing first carefully repositioned Song Ling's remains before gathering her tools. She bowed to Song Shihuan and departed without another word, truly making no request.
"Your Grace, where did you find this female coroner? She has quite the nerve," Shen Qingping remarked, casting a disdainful glance at the two male coroners who were still trembling in fear.
What a disgrace to their profession.
"They recommended her," Song Shihuan mused, her thoughts shifting. "Baoxia, send someone to keep an eye on Yue Qing later. She may prove useful in the future."
The rain continued to pour. Without Song Shihuan's orders, none of the guards dared approach to reseal Song Ling's coffin.
"Master, you may return first. I wish to stay here a while longer—I’d like to visit Grandmother."
Song Shihuan looked up at Shen Qingping. Though she was smiling, Shen Qingping felt an inexplicable tightness in his chest.
"Your Grace, though you miss the late empress, do not linger too long. The cold may seep into your body."
After a few more words of concern, Shen Qingping finally left the mausoleum, glancing back repeatedly.
On his way back to the Shen residence, he happened to spot Yue Qing being driven out of her home.
"Is that... the coroner from earlier?" Shen Qingping lifted the carriage curtain, struggling to recall her face.
"Yes, Third Master."
Outside, a woman was berating Yue Qing: "You went to examine corpses again? You’re always dabbling in those cursed things—you even brought misfortune upon your father!"
"No one in the capital dares to go near you. Do you expect me to support you forever?"
The woman’s words were venomous, yet Yue Qing stood motionless, as if accustomed to such treatment.
"Third Master, should we...?"
Before the servant could finish, Shen Qingping lowered the curtain, his expression indifferent.
"Return to the estate."
Those trapped in the mud must save themselves to break free.
......
Meanwhile, back at the mausoleum.
"Can this coffin still be sealed after being split by lightning?"
Song Shihuan’s voice was cool. The coffin had been cleaved in two—even if reassembled, it would never fit perfectly again.
"Your Grace, this... may prove difficult," the guards admitted, at a loss. Unless they found a replacement coffin lid immediately, but Song Ling’s coffin was made of premium golden nanmu wood, impossible to procure on such short notice...
"Just seal it as it is."
Song Shihuan’s indifferent tone stunned the guards.
Just... like this?
They had been prepared to search for a new lid.
"Fetch some red cloth. Wrap it around the coffin a few times and tie it tightly—that should hold it together." Song Shihuan’s gaze lingered on Song Ling’s coffin. "Red symbolizes celebration. It might dispel some of the misfortune clinging to him."
Though the guards found it odd, they couldn’t deny the logic.
To be exhumed, have his bones examined, and possibly poisoned—what greater misfortune could there be?
"You two, fetch the red cloth. The rest, withdraw outside the mausoleum."
Within moments, only Song Shihuan remained before the coffin, with Baoxia standing several paces away.
"Song Ling, have you suffered enough torment in hell?"
A deafening clap of thunder punctuated her words.
"You brought me into the Eastern Palace, yet stood by as everyone humiliated me. You were the cruelest of them all." Song Shihuan exhaled slowly. "I thought your sudden death in this life let you off too easily."
"But it seems hell has more in store for you."
Her master once said: A coffin bound in red cloth ensures the soul never reincarnates.
"Don’t worry. Soon, your family of wandering ghosts will reunite in the underworld."
......
The rain persisted for hours. In the Zichen Hall, Emperor Yuanyou felt restless.
Setting down his vermilion brush, he stepped outside to watch the raindrops hammer the ground.
"Did the Prince of Qin go to the mausoleum today?"
"Your Majesty, he left at dawn."
At Wu Qi’s reply, the emperor sighed deeply. He wondered what results Song Yu had uncovered.
Just then, a voice called out—
"Father."
Emperor Yuanyou looked up to see Song Yu striding through the rain, his attendants struggling to keep pace with an umbrella. Half of Song Yu’s robes were already soaked.
"Why such haste? You’ll catch a chill!"
The emperor frowned. "Wu Qi, prepare ginger tea at once."
After ensuring Song Yu changed into dry clothes, Emperor Yuanyou finally remembered his initial question. "What did the examination reveal?"
"Much."
Song Yu knelt before the emperor. "The coroner confirmed Song Ling was poisoned before death, within the last six months—the same timeframe as Shen Hua'er’s arrival."
"So it was poison..." The emperor was momentarily speechless.
"Father, the coroner couldn’t identify the exact toxin, but whoever dared poison Song Ling could one day turn against the rest of the imperial family."
Song Yu’s gaze turned icy. "I request permission to search the Ping Prince’s Mansion for Shen Hua'er’s dowry—the Life-Sacrifice Pill. If it’s missing, her guilt is undeniable."
A threat to the imperial family—
Those words struck Emperor Yuanyou’s deepest fear.
Leaving such a person unchecked risked future attempts on his life, Song Yu’s, or even Song Shihuan’s.
He would never allow it.
His eyes sharpened with resolve.
"Granted."
