When it came to calling the police, the village chief inexplicably disagreed, "No, we mustn't air our dirty laundry in public. No matter who the murderer is, that person is most likely a member of the Song family. This matter must remain within the village!"

The others echoed the village chief’s opinion. In fact, his reaction aroused my interest. What was he trying to hide?

Right then, another villager ran into the hall–it was Cui Huan, the widow we had previously met at Granny Yan's home. "Sir, Granny Yan was murdered..." she panted.

When the village chief told her to slow down, Cui Huan buried her face in her hands and cried, "Granny Yan was murdered!"

The hall broke into an uproar which took the village chief a considerable amount of shouting before everyone quieted down.

"Where were you and Granny Yan before eight o'clock?" I asked.

"I-I followed her up the hill to collect some herbs," she replied.

“Granny Yan and I agreed to meet at eight in the evening. Why did she choose to go out at that time?" I pressed.

"Hey, have you forgotten your identity? Who are you to interrogate others?" shouted a villager.

Unhappy with the interruption, I stared at the man coldly and snapped, "Shut up!"

The villagers around me fell silent at once, possibly due to the intensity of my gaze. Thus, the man turned to the village chief for help, "Sir, look at this boy. He’s outrageous. You should teach him a lesson!"

"Enough with your nonsense!" said the village chief. "The family laws can only be administered with the elders’ instructions. Cui Huan, take us to see the body."

As Cui Huan led us out, I whispered something to Song Xingchen who quietly disappeared into the crowd.

"Song Yang-gege, do you have a plan?" asked Song Jie.

I shook my head, "There are too many twists and turns in this investigation."

In the darkness, we walked up the hill without any lighting equipment since most of the Song family descendants had Cave Vision. The scene resembled a group of people marching mysteriously into the night. When we reached the hillside, an ear-piercing scream filled the air. There Granny Yan lay, a large pool of blood under her body, her intestines and stomach pouring out of the wound.

The villagers exploded into panicked discussion while I prepared for the autopsy.

"What are you doing?" demanded a villager as he tried to stop me.

"An autopsy!" I replied.

"No, you may be the murderer so you shouldn’t touch the body."

I rolled my eyes, "And which one of you will perform an autopsy?"

Everyone present was a martial Song. As the saying goes, each profession had its specializations. They weren’t adept at post-mortem examinations yet they didn’t want me touching the body. The situation was ridiculous.

"Right now, the village chief is the most respected one among us. Let him examine the body!" a voice shouted from within the crowd.

Their foolishness irritated me to the point of laughing. Could anyone perform an autopsy just because they are respected?

Fortunately, the village chief refused. "No, I can’t do that,” he waved his hand. “Shall we invite the head of the family instead?"

With that, he sent several young men over to Song Heting. They practically flew away at lightning speed with their Lightness Skill. After fifteen minutes, they returned with a message, "She won’t involve herself in the matter. Song Yang is solely responsible for the investigation!"

Song Jie stamped her feet in anger, "What’s my mother doing? Why hasn’t she shown up?"

The villagers protested, declaring that a criminal suspect shouldn’t be allowed to handle the body.

“You can monitor the whole process if you like,” I sighed. “I won’t tamper with the body."

"All right!" nodded the village chief.

Although there were a few naysayers in the crowd, the village chief disregarded them and urged me to perform the autopsy.

This might be the most special investigation I had ever experienced, with people watching my every move from all 360 degrees. Flipping the victim’s eyelids open, I checked the pupils and the degree of rigor mortis. The time of death was about an hour ago.

Then, I examined the open wound on the abdomen. Though bloody, the intestinal mucosa remained intact. It seemed the murderer wasn’t a professional.

When examining the victim’s hands, I noticed dandruff flakes under the fingernails.

I leaned in and sniffed at the victim’s nose which prompted another noisy discussion.

"Hey, what are you doing?" the villagers protested.

Ignoring them, I analyzed the scents on the victim’s nostrils–some sort of medicinal concoction. The fibers on her lips indicated the murderer covered her nose and mouth which resulted in bleeding of the nasal mucosa due to the rough movements.

I repeated an examination of the pupils and the joints. Since I had no way of testing my theories, I could only offer conjectures. Judging from the traces on the body, the victim inhaled highly concentrated hallucinogens as suggested by the relaxed muscles and the dilated pupils that mirrored a state of excitement. It stood to reason that the muscles would stiffen if a struggle had occurred before death.

When I lifted the victim’s collar, I found strangulation marks on the neck, proving that the victim was strangled from behind. I caught a whiff of a slight fragrance but it was mixed with a peculiar odor.

When I rose to my feet and scanned the crowd, the villagers avoided my sight. Turning around, I hooked my index finger at Song Jie whose hair was in a ponytail. "Turn around!" I ordered.

"Why?" Despite the confusion, Song Jie turned around as asked. I leaned in and sniffed her head.

"What are you doing?" Song Jie asked in embarrassment.

"What did you apply to your hair? It smells really good," I remarked.

"Hair oil,” answered Song Jie. “Us girls have long hair that tangles without hair oil."

In fact, most people outside the village used conditioner instead of hair oil.

The village chief wondered out loud, "Have you found anything?"

I summarized my findings, though the villagers seemed even more confused.

"Who is the murderer then?" a villager anxiously blurted.

I raised a finger and the crowd parted like the Red Sea. Finally, my finger stopped in the direction of the widow Cui Huan.

"You!" I shouted.

“What are you talking about?” Cui Huan stared at me, mouth agape with incredulity. “I have sincerely served Granny Yan for so many years. How could I do such a thing? My conscience is clear and everyone can attest to that."

I laughed, "There are many motives for murder, such as money, revenge, a crime of passion… Or to cover up a previous crime! In fact, you’ve already handed the evidence to me."

As the villagers watched in shock, I took out the iron walnut. "This is the evidence!"

"What is the meaning of this?" the village chief cluelessly asked.

"Sir, would you please describe how this iron walnut was passed down among the shamans?" I respectfully cupped my fist.

"Each chosen shaman swallows the iron walnut into their stomachs, and after death, it is removed from the shaman’s skeletal remains and passed on to the next shaman."

I whispered my thanks and said, "This is made out of iron and the main component of stomach acid in the human body is hydrochloric acid. Iron would be severely corroded after being soaked in hydrochloric acid for decades. Yet this iron walnut remains smooth and round. Cui Huan, I think you know the reason for that."

Flustered, Cui Huan bit her lip.

"That’s because the ceremony is a sham and no one has ever swallowed it!" I announced.