The mind-reading coroner drove the court crazy

Before leaving, Qin Miaoxi looked at Ge Shu deeply, with a thoughtful glimmer in her eyes.

She thought to herself: The grudge between these two people may be the key clue to solving the case.

When they walked out of Shanhai Tower, the night wind blew in their faces with damp and cold mist.

I saw a man standing quietly outside the door. The brocade robe on his shoulders was slightly damp from the mist, and it was obvious that he had been waiting here for a long time.

"Eldest brother?"

Qin Miaoxi was slightly stunned, with a hint of doubt in her eyes.

She had clearly handed the paper figurine to the eldest brother. Logically, he should be trading it at this moment. How could he appear here?

When Fu Yifan saw her, a light suddenly flashed in his eyes, and he quickly stepped forward and said, "Junior Sister, I need your help with something."

Qin Miaoxi nodded without hesitation: "Big Brother, please speak!"

Fu Yifan looked solemn and whispered, "You are proficient in pharmacology. This transaction requires you to accompany me to identify the hundred-year-old Tianshan Snow Lotus."

Qin Miaoxi frowned slightly upon hearing this, but quickly recovered and responded crisply, "Okay, where is the transaction location? When do we leave?"

Fu Yifan's eyes were calm and his tone was firm: "Now, set off immediately."

The night wind blew past, and Qin Miaoxi's sleeves were gently lifted. She nodded and said, "In that case, there is no time to lose, let's set off now."

Zi Yan followed the two of them silently, scanning the surroundings vigilantly and putting them in the protective circle.

Fu Yifan turned around and led the way, walking steadily and heading straight out of the city.

Qin Miaoxi followed him, feeling a faint sense of unease. Was the transaction taking place outside the city? And why was it happening at night? This made her even more wary.

The night gradually deepened and a thin mist rose on the road. Just now, I could still hear the sound of the night watchman's clapper, but now I can hear nothing. Occasionally, I see a black shadow flash by on the road, which must be a wild cat or a mouse hurriedly passing by.

Qin Miaoxi tightened her cloak, her fingertips feeling the cool, dampness of the fabric. The mist condensed into tiny droplets on her eyelashes, trembling slightly with her steps.

Zi Yan followed closely behind, her eyes scanning the surroundings like an eagle, the dagger in her hand faintly visible in her sleeve.

Fu Yifan walked in front, his back as straight as a pine tree. Although his steps were steady, they were a little more tense than usual, and every step was accompanied by solemn vigilance.

Suddenly, a low cat meow was heard in the distance, which sounded very strange in the silent night.

Qin Miaoxi paused for a moment, her eyes involuntarily looking in the direction where the sound came from.

In the mist, a black cat crouched on a branch, staring at the three of them without any fear.

"Miss, be careful." Zi Yan reminded in a low voice, her hand already grasping the hilt of the sword.

Qin Miaoxi nodded and put her hands on her waist to deal with any emergency that might arise at any time.

At this time, Fu Yifan also stopped and shouted towards the tree: "Sir, we have prepared the things. Would you like to trade now?"

A slight "click" sound suddenly rang out in the silent night, and a black shadow jumped down from the treetop like a ghost and landed lightly in front of them.

He was an old man with a sage-like demeanor, his hair and beard all white, his robes flowing, and an unfathomable aura of menace. His narrow, sharp eyes, piercing with a fierceness, fell directly on Qin Miaoxi like a knife. His expression was complex and difficult to discern, a familiarity reunited after a long separation, yet also a gaze through her, filled with a mixture of reminiscence and melancholy.

"Are you Qin Miaoxi, the paper-making artist?" The old man's voice was low and hoarse, but it carried an unquestionable majesty.

Qin Miaoxi was slightly stunned and secretly wondered: When did she become so famous in the paper-making circle?

She suppressed her doubts, bowed respectfully, and said modestly, "Yes, I am Qin Miaoxi."

The old man did not respond immediately, but looked her up and down with his sharp eyes.

Fu Yifan quietly stepped forward to block his sight, and Qin Miaoxi felt a little relieved. The old man's gaze was like a thorn in her side.

After a long while, he slowly spoke, his voice carrying a hint of unwillingness: "Where is the paper figurine you made? I want to examine it myself."

Qin Miaoxi subconsciously looked at Fu Yifan, who calmly raised his hand and pointed to a tree not far away: "The thing is over there."

As soon as he finished speaking, the old man's figure slid out dozens of meters like a gust of wind, at a speed that was astonishingly fast.

His lightness skills were so good that it seemed as if his feet were not touching the ground. In the blink of an eye, he was standing under the tree and reached out to lift the cloth covering the paper-made object.

Qin Miaoxi and the other two looked at each other, with a hint of vigilance and caution in their eyes.

They followed slowly, the night wind blowing, the shadows of the trees swaying, and they began to feel uneasy.

The old man checked very carefully, turning over each paper-piece with his own hands, not even missing the slightest wrinkle.

Suddenly, he turned his head sharply, his eyes piercing Qin Miaoxi like a knife, and asked sharply: "Why isn't the eight characters on it?"

Qin Miaoxi's mouth twitched slightly, feeling helpless, but she still patiently explained: "The Eighteen Arhats are Buddhist masters, where did the eight characters come from?"

Moreover, according to her calculations, these eight characters belong to three living people. She must be crazy to write the eight characters of living people on paper.

The old man's face suddenly changed when he heard this. He raised his hand in rage and slapped Qin Miaoxi in the face with a fierce palm wind. "Asshole! Just do what I tell you to do!"

The palm wind broke through the air, bringing with it a biting chill.

Fu Yifan's eyes turned cold, and he waved his brocade sleeves. His fist came forward like thunder, instantly dispersing the old man's palm wind.

He stood in front of Qin Miaoxi, his voice as cold as ice: "What do you mean, sir?"

The old man's eyes widened, his voice filled with suppressed anger: "You didn't do what I said!"

Fu Yifan's brows were furrowed, his eyes calm and sharp. He knew that Qin Miaoxi would never do anything against her principles, but the Tianshan Snow Lotus was equally important to them.

He suppressed his anger and asked in a deep voice, "The Eighteen Arhats have been created. What do you wish?"

The old man snorted coldly, raised his finger and pointed at Qin Miaoxi, and said in an unquestionable tone: "You, write the eight characters yourself."

Qin Miaoxi refused to back down, her gaze as firm as steel. "No, writing a living person's horoscope on a paper sculpture is detrimental to one's virtue. I will never do it."

The old man heard this and laughed instead of getting angry. His laughter was filled with sarcasm and threats. "Well, well, since you won't write, you can forget about getting the Tianshan Snow Lotus."

Before he finished speaking, his figure had retreated several steps like a ghost, and suddenly a cold light flew out from his sleeve and shot straight towards Fu Yifan.

Fu Yifan was quick-witted and quick-handed, dodging to the side. The cold light brushed past his sleeve and pierced into the tree trunk behind him. It turned out to be a silver needle as thin as an ox hair.

Suddenly the tree made a bubbling sound of decay, and in an instant a hole as big as a head rotted out of the trunk where the silver needle had pierced. The pungent smell of poisonous water made people frown.

Qin Miaoxi was startled when she saw this and said in horror, "You are the Poison King, Xiao Yan."

The old man raised his head and smiled, "I didn't expect you to know my name."

Qin Miaoxi's fingers had quietly grasped the silver needle in her sleeve, and she stared at the other person warily. "Poison King Xiao Yan is renowned for his superb poison techniques. He moves cryptically, often hiding in the mountains or the city. He wears a gray robe, his sleeves filled with deadly poisons, and he's adept with silver needles. It's rumored that he's proficient in all the world's most incredible poisons, able to easily poison plants, insects, snakes, metal, and stone. He has a cold temperament and rarely appears, but whenever he does, it always causes a bloody storm. Some say he's searching for a long-lost poison scripture, while others say he's seeking revenge for a grudge from years ago."

The old man scoffed, "Little girl, knowing too much will do you no good."

Qin Miaoxi took a deep breath and said respectfully, "Senior, we sincerely want your Tianshan Snow Lotus. Apart from writing the eight characters, you can make other requests. As long as they are not against the will of heaven and earth, we will do our best to complete them."

"Try your best to complete it?"

The old man remained silent, the silver needle on his fingertip gleaming coldly in the moonlight.

The atmosphere suddenly became tense, and even the wind seemed to freeze.