Chapter 156: The Song Family’s Secret Technique — Phosphorescent Fire Reveals the Corpse

We returned to the cremation chamber. Huang Xiaotao smiled teasingly, "Song Yang, after discovering the strange details of this case, you actually seem excited, huh?"

I scratched my head sheepishly. Honestly, I did feel more energized than when we first arrived. Huang Xiaotao grinned, "Alright, no need to hide it. I know exactly what you're thinking."

Just as we pushed open the cremation chamber door, Wang Dali suddenly said, "Wait! What if when we go in, that male corpse suddenly comes back to life—or disappears?"

Huang Xiaotao frowned, "Bringing you along was the best decision ever—adding endless horror to this night."

She smacked Wang Dali hard on the back, and he yelped, stumbling inside. Of course, it was all just his wild imagination. The cremation worker's corpse was still lying there just as we left it.

I continued the autopsy, confirming time of death—less than an hour ago. In other words, the murder happened just as we arrived.

Glancing at the cremation furnace, I noted something odd. Burning a corpse to ashes usually takes around twenty minutes at full heat. But this body had been in there for a long time. Clearly, the cremation worker had lowered the furnace temperature deliberately—using it to keep warm.

On a cold November night, sitting in a cremation chamber, warming oneself by the fire, sipping some liquor, and fooling around with a beautiful female corpse—that's not something anyone can do.

The middle-aged man's corpse leaning against the door was probably the next body he planned to cremate. In his eyes, no different than firewood in the furnace.

Come to think of it, my Song ancestors had a few eccentrics too. One ancestor was actually misunderstood. His way of handling cases was to connect deeply with the dead. Every time he did an autopsy, he'd lock the door, strip naked, and lie down beside the corpse to 'talk'—sometimes all night long. Once, an official caught him by accident and accused him of desecrating the dead. Our ancestor was speechless and quietly went back to farming.

...

People who deal with corpses long-term inevitably develop different minds from ordinary folks. Or rather, only the unusual can endure this line of work. Take me—others see bizarre corpses and shy away, but I get inexplicably excited. Feels like I'm sinking deeper into some kind of twisted obsession…

I sniffed carefully. The lubricant on the corpse was petroleum jelly, clearly prepared by the cremation worker himself. This meant the female corpse had no bodily fluids. Wang Dali's eyebrows almost knotted in disgust when I smelled it.

Next, I rinsed the blood off the deceased's head with some burning liquor on the table, revealing multiple fractures in the skull. I grabbed the ashtray and mimicked the attack—she had been lying on her back on the straw mat, then suddenly revived and struck the ashtray hard three times.

The ashtray's contents spilled everywhere. I sifted through and found something. Using tweezers, I showed Huang Xiaotao, who exclaimed, "Half a fingernail!"

Checking the corpse's fingers, it was clear the nail didn't belong to the victim. It must have broken off when the female corpse smashed the ashtray. The inner side was stained with blood—most likely the killer's.

This was a critical piece of evidence, enough to be a courtroom game-changer.

Carefully, I placed the half nail into an evidence bag and ordered Wang Dali to move the corpse. The straw mat was splattered with blood, but through my eyes, I saw traces others would miss.

I told Wang Dali, "Open the cremation furnace."

He protested, "Hey, that's not firewood in there!"

"No arguments, just do it," I urged.

Wearing rubber gloves layered with cotton, Wang Dali opened the furnace door. A sudden blaze shot out, forcing him to retreat in fright. Within the roaring blue flames, the skeletal remains were faintly visible.

That blue flame is caused by phosphorus. Human bones contain a lot of phosphorus, which burns with that eerie color.

Phosphorescent fire emits light with a shorter wavelength than ultraviolet—a supernatural light. My ancestors once used phosphorus fire to examine corpses, and now with these perfect conditions, I intended to do the same.

I opened my forensic umbrella, blocking the flame's glare, casting shadows over the straw mat. As I rotated the umbrella, the bloodstains changed colors. At a certain angle, the blood suddenly formed the shape of a woman.

Both Huang Xiaotao and I were stunned. She asked, "Could this be the killer's bloodstain?"

I nodded, "Exactly. Though the blood is mixed, it's actually layered bloodstains. When the killer lay on the straw mat to attack, the victim's ruptured cranial artery sprayed blood onto her and the surrounding area. The fresh blood outlined her figure. Later, the killer pushed the victim aside and stood up, smearing the blood and forming a large blotch. Blood contains an oxidase enzyme that fades over time—within an hour it completely disappears, leaving dark red stains. Fresh blood, under this special light, displays different colors. Tonight's conditions allowed me to use phosphorus light to reveal the killer's silhouette."

"Amazing!" Huang Xiaotao marveled at the blood-formed figure.

The colors of the blood kept shifting with the flames, as if the 'woman' trapped in the blood was coming back to life.

"Dali, hurry up and take pictures!" I called.

Snapping out of his daze, Wang Dali pulled out his phone and took photos from multiple angles.

Afterward, I closed the furnace. Wang Dali timidly raised his hand like a schoolkid, asking, "If the killer fought back during the attack, wouldn't that count as self-defense?"

Huang Xiaotao said, "How it's judged is up to the court. We just catch the suspect."

We had almost finished the autopsy when Huang Xiaotao suddenly laughed, "Haha, Song Yang, now it's my turn to show some of the Huang family's secret skills."

Intrigued, I replied, "Go ahead, I'm all eyes."

Clearing her throat, she said, "The victim's nickname was 'Old Ghost.' He had a friend who shared his… tastes. Old Ghost said he got a rare 'premium' on hand and could lend it to his friend for a couple days. That runaway Santana just now? That's the friend's car."

Wang Dali gasped, "Xiaotao, no way you deduced that! Is your ancestor Huang Tianba, the infamous imperial hound?"

Huang Xiaotao cursed, "Get lost! Your ancestor was Huang Tianba!"

I saw her hide one hand behind her back and chuckled, "Alright, hand over the secret evidence you've been hiding!"

She stuck out her tongue and produced an old Nokia phone from a corner, where she'd found some text messages matching what she just described.

I said, "I thought the runaway was an accomplice, turns out he's the next victim. We need to find him fast."

Wang Dali muttered, "People with disgusting fetishes like this—one death isn't enough, two isn't too many."

Huang Xiaotao clicked her tongue, "Don't talk like that. Being disgusting isn't a crime. As police, we protect the public no matter what shady hobbies someone has."

Suddenly, police sirens wailed outside. I pulled out a stack of yellow joss paper and set it aflame for the victim, chanting a passage from the Rebirth Mantra.