Chapter 133: The Five Element Venoms

Captain Xing drove us to a hotel near a local university—Southern River Medical University, to be precise. The name stirred a memory: Sun Bingxin, daughter of Old Sun, studied there. Strangely enough, I'd never visited her once in all four years.

I asked casually, "Are the couple involved in this case students here?"

Captain Xing shook his head. "No. The guy's a rich heir—the son of the CEO of East Asia International. The girl's a commercial model."

Wang Dali's jaw dropped. "Wait, East Asia Supermarket? That East Asia?"

"Exactly. Same company," Xing confirmed.

East Asia Supermarket was a national retail giant, ranked among the top five in China's retail industry. Headquartered in Southern River City, their operations extended into hardware, food, personal care, apparel—half the goods in their stores were their own brands.

This guy was top-tier—if Ye Shiwen was a silver-level rich kid, this guy was solid gold.

I frowned. "Why would a golden spoon like him pick a cheap hotel near campus? It's not like he needs to save money."

"No idea," Xing said. "The room was booked under the model's name, though."

Outside the hotel, police cars had already cordoned off the entrance, and a group of curious students gathered to gawk. I scanned the crowd nervously, hoping I wouldn't run into Sun Bingxin. Childhood friends or not, I'd completely ghosted her. If she saw me now, I'd never hear the end of it.

Wang Dali, clueless to my internal panic, nudged me with a sleazy grin. "Man, the girls here at med school are on another level! I should've gone pre-med!"

I snorted. "You never heard that story? Some med student cheated on his girlfriend. She stabbed him over a dozen times—hit everything except the vitals. Only got charged with aggravated assault."

Wang Dali shivered. "I'm just admiring the scenery, man. Don't kill my vibe."

We passed the police tape and took the elevator to the fifth floor. A room stood open with several officers posted at the door. Inside, a white sheet lay over a body on the bed. Next to it sat a visibly shaken young man, giving a statement to the police.

Dali's bravado evaporated at the sight of the corpse. He clutched my shoulder with a trembling hand.

"Ease up," I muttered, swatting him off. "We're being watched."

Several officers turned toward us. I recognized a few from previous cases. Captain Xing introduced me.

"This is Song Yang, our special consultant. I invited him to handle the autopsy."

Recognizing me, a few officers lit up. "You brought in Song Yang? Nice! This case might actually get solved."

Wang Dali grinned. "Damn, you're a celebrity now. Feels good, huh?"

I glared. "Knock it off." Then to Xing, "Let me take a look at the body."

Xing quickly cleared the room. Hotel rooms weren't spacious to begin with—add a dozen officers, and you've got a sardine can.

I lifted the sheet. A naked woman lay on the bed, facing upward. She was clearly a model—flawless proportions and a refined face—but to me, dead bodies were just evidence.

I put on gloves, examined her eyes, pressed the skin, checked joint stiffness. "Mild corneal clouding. No rigor mortis yet. Subcutaneous lividity present but disperses under pressure. Estimated time of death: two to three hours ago."

Xing nodded. "Matches Wu's report. He's at the university hospital right now, running tests on some pills we found."

I noticed the woman's blood vessels had turned dark brown, and her nails were bluish.

Coroners, even in ancient times, were expected to identify poison. Back then, they used silver needles—not as superstition, but because silver reacts with arsenic, turning black. Arsenic trioxide, or "white arsenic," was one of the most common poisons in ancient China.

With the rise of modern chemistry, new toxins emerged, and the art of forensic medicine had to evolve. The Chronicles of the Corpse Whisperer originally documented 200 known poisons. My grandfather expanded that to 4,600. Even so, over 30,000 toxic substances are now known worldwide. Compared to that, our methods still have blind spots.

That said, I had a hunch about the toxin in this case. I just needed to confirm it.

"Dali, help me turn the body. Look for signs of trauma or poisoning."

He hesitated, blushing furiously as he reached for the corpse.

I snapped, "What, getting turned on by a corpse? You got necrophilia or something?"

"I'm human, man! She's completely naked! How are you so damn calm?"

I inspected the woman's back, murmuring, "Because I'm not looking where you are."

Next, I pulled out my Listening Bone Tool, a special stethoscope-like device. Every poison settles in different organs—mercury targets the kidneys, arsenic the liver, aconitine the stomach, and snake venom thickens the blood.

In traditional Chinese medicine, the heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys are aligned with the Five Elements. My field—coroner alchemy—adapts that principle to categorize poisons by element.

Listening to the resonance from her chest cavity, I sensed the heart was unnaturally stiff. My suspicion deepened. I grabbed a syringe and drew a sample of her blood.

It's not easy to extract blood from a corpse—you've got to hit a vein just right. Fortunately, the model was slim and her veins were visible.

I took out a vial of "Ruxue"—a reagent with the same density as human blood. I dropped a bead of blood in. Instead of dispersing, it formed a suspended droplet that floated mid-vial.

Gasps rippled through the room.

"Dude, what is that?" Wang Dali asked.

"Ruxue. It mirrors blood's density. Based on where the drop floats, I can determine the poison type."

"How's that work?"

"Snake venom makes blood sink. Gas-based poisons float it to the top."

"So what's this?"

"Not sure yet. Get me a cotton swab."

Poison cases demanded absolute certainty. I swabbed her genital area for residual fluids. Everyone looked away uncomfortably—even trained officers weren't immune to this kind of intimacy with the dead.

Dali whispered, "Yang, seriously, can you hurry up?"

"Almost. I've found something."

With my Piercing Eye, I examined the vaginal canal, ignoring the side-eyes. Something felt off.

I searched the trash can. Then the room. Finally, my gaze landed on a particular item on the dresser.

Everything clicked.

It was brilliant—whoever planned this had hidden the delivery method seamlessly. The toxin's nature, and the method of delivery—it all made sense now.

When I looked up, everyone was staring at me like I'd lost my mind. Captain Xing approached cautiously.

"Song Yang, any results?"

I nodded. "Yes. The poison is—"

Just then, a loud voice interrupted. A man in a white coat burst into the room, grinning.

"Everyone, I've identified the toxin!"

Captain Xing blinked. "Dr. Wu? That's... uncanny timing. We just figured it out, too."

Wu blinked. "Who did the toxicology here?" His eyes fell on me. "You! You're that junior coroner who humiliated Old Qin! Xing, you brought him in? You think I'm not good enough?!"

Humiliated? That wasn't what happened at all. Qin had obviously twisted the story behind my back.

Captain Xing looked sheepish. "It's not about trust. We just want to solve the case fast."

Wu scowled. "So you bring in a street coroner as a clown act? What's he using, silver needles? Don't insult my intelligence!"

Then he turned on me. "Alright, kid. Tell me. What poison did she take?"