Chapter 12: The Mummified Corpse

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He examined the panel closely once more, confirming there was no mistake.

He had spent a bit of potential to advance to the first tier, two points for the second, and by all reason, the third tier should have required more than two points. Yet only a single point had been deducted.

Touching his chin, he pondered and mused.

"It must be because I’ve gained a deeper insight and understanding of blade techniques, so the cost in potential is less."

His eyes lit up at this realization. In that case, he could conserve a fair amount of potential, saving it as a trump card for critical breakthroughs.

As he was turning this over in his mind, Old Wang and his two companions approached.

"Yuanzhen, you’ve recovered from your injuries? Good timing. There’s a particularly thorny case that needs handling."

Old Wang’s dark face was grave as he led Chen Can and Chen Wu straight into the administrative hall at the back.

Yao Qian immediately sensed that something significant must have happened and hurried after them.

The four of them entered the back hall in succession, found seats, and sat down. Old Wang pressed his palm down and said, "Yuanzhen, you haven’t been here these past few days, so you might not know. Little Three, you explain."

Ever since the incident with the Fang family, the Chen brothers had grown distant from him, more like strangers now. But there was no need to show that in front of Old Wang.

Chen Can stood up and addressed him, "Yuanzhen, do you still remember the courtesan you left alive after killing the Bone-Grinder Yu Hongchuan last time?"

When he mentioned this, there was a trace of envy and jealousy in his voice—sixty taels of silver was no small sum.

That being his opening statement surprised Yao Qian, whose face turned stern as he nodded. He already had some premonition.

"That courtesan was murdered, her blood drained dry, killed in a most brutal and horrifying manner."

As Chen Can spoke, a flicker of instinctive fear crossed his eyes. But catching Yao Qian’s gaze, he coughed and, as if nothing had happened, continued.

"In the past few days, six more people have been killed in the same way—their blood vanished without a trace. It’s highly likely the work of the same person, possibly a ruthless martial expert."

At this, Chen Can stopped and sat down.

Yao Qian gave him a strange look, not expecting him to deduce that the killer was a martial artist.

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But Yao Qian knew exactly what he’d encountered that night. If it had only been an ordinary martial artist, how could they have struck during a stormy night like that?

He kept these thoughts to himself.

Old Wang saw the contemplation in his eyes and did not interrupt. After a while, he said, "Now that everyone understands the case, I’ll take you to the public morgue to see if we can find any clues."

With that, Old Wang led Yao Qian and the others out at a brisk pace.

A quarter of an hour later, they had made their way from the east to the south side of the city.

The southern district was the slums of Pingyang—home to the city’s lowest classes, a chaotic mix of all sorts, including many fugitives hiding among them. Under such circumstances, order had collapsed and even the authorities were powerless.

Usually, the southern district was treated as a lawless zone, where people fought and died at will.

They arrived at the public morgue, which was surrounded by crumbling walls and broken tiles, the very picture of desolation.

This place had been inhabited in the past, but frequent rumors of ghosts in the morgue drove everyone away, leaving it deserted.

Looking at the cracked lines on the walls, clearly untouched for years, and the layers of cobwebs at the entrance, all that remained were a few fresh footprints on the ground.

Old Wang seemed unfazed by any of it. He pushed open the gates and walked in.

Yao Qian and the others followed closely. The courtyard was small, ringed by rows of low, dilapidated houses, all rotting and decayed—like an old man at death’s door, barely clinging to life.

A chill wind swept through, rattling the broken windows with a ghostly "creak, creak," sound. For reasons he could not say, stepping into the courtyard, Yao Qian felt a cold energy wrap around him, making him shiver.

This cold was unlike the winter’s chill—it felt as if it seeped into his very bones.

He unconsciously gritted his teeth, but judging by the others’ demeanor, none seemed affected.

"Am I just scaring myself?" he wondered, but now was not the time for such thoughts.

Yao Qian didn’t believe that, with so many people and in broad daylight, any real ghosts or spirits would appear.

Besides, Old Wang had already gone inside; he couldn’t just leave.

Following Old Wang into a room, he found it crowded with racks draped in white cloth—no need to guess what lay beneath.

Chen Wu, as stubborn as ever, seemed not the least afraid. Noticing Yao Qian’s glance, he even glared back.

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Chen Can lingered at the doorway, reluctant to enter.

Yao Qian paid him no mind, just smiled faintly and followed Old Wang.

Old Wang had stopped before one of the racks. Lifting the shroud, Yao Qian finally saw the victim.

The body was shriveled, its skin black and dry, clinging to the bones as if all flesh and blood had been sucked away, leaving only a skeleton. The face was sunken, forehead protruding, mouth agape—a terrifying visage, like a vengeful ghost.

Even though Yao Qian had mentally prepared himself, the sight still startled him.

But he had killed before and was no longer the man he once was. He quickly calmed down and heard Old Wang say,

"Not bad. You’re bolder than before."

With a word of encouragement, Old Wang covered the corpse again and continued,

"This is the courtesan you saw."

As he spoke, he uncovered several more bodies. Each resembled the first: terrifyingly withered, all features unrecognizable.

After examining them all, Old Wang led the group outside and asked, "Well, any clues?"

Chen Wu scratched the back of his head—truly fearless, he had scrutinized each body but gained nothing. In his gruff voice, he said, "Uncle, just tell me who did it and I’ll go catch him."

Old Wang smiled wryly and looked to Yao Qian and Chen Can.

Chen Can, clearly prepared, drew himself up and declared, "Uncle, I believe the culprit is likely Chen Shanqi, the Heartbreaker. He’s always been at odds with the Bone-Grinder Yu Hongchuan and is notorious for his ruthlessness. I’ve heard he has a hidden base in the southern city, trafficking in human lives. These victims may well have come from his operation."

At first, it sounded plausible, but upon closer thought, it was pure conjecture.

Yao Qian shook his head inwardly; the man hadn’t even dared come in, and now he was making baseless accusations.

But after a moment’s thought, Old Wang nodded and said, "In that case, Little Three and Little Five, investigate this Heartbreaker thoroughly. If he’s truly responsible, he cannot be spared. The people of this city deserve justice."

With that, Old Wang set the direction for the case.

Yao Qian wanted to say more, but Old Wang, as if expecting it, looked at him and shook his head.

Chen Can immediately looked excited, giving Yao Qian a smug glance before replying, "Yes, Uncle, I won’t let you down."