In the morning market of the county city, a large crowd gathered, bustling with activity. The harsh snow that had been relentless on the county residents took a brief pause, and the rare appearance of the sun brought some warmth. Even the elderly, who were seldom seen, wrapped in thick cloth garments, ventured out to the streets, engaging in conversations or heated debates, comparing their children and grandchildren, or sharing gossip with added embellishments. They were eager to exercise their tongues, which had been silenced by the wind and snow in recent days.

On such a lively and seemingly cheerful day, the County Office appeared particularly lifeless. The wind that blew through its doors felt even colder.

Chun Qiong, dressed in official robes, stood before Liu Jinshi's corpse, which had turned waxy yellow due to the preservative herbs, his expression grave.

In his hand, he held a scroll, slightly creased, yet he continued to clutch it, his distracted gaze indicating he was wrestling with something.