Chapter 1407 - The Council of Elders' Song Tixing

Clad in her threadbare jeans and faded blue tracksuit—both relics from the old time-space, now worn well past the point of respectability—Su Wan shuffled barefoot down the gangway, a pair of counterfeit Qiangren 3515 combat boots slung over her shoulder by their knotted laces. With weary disdain, she plucked the tattered straw hat from her head and sent it spinning into the sea.

The Spanish Whore was convenient enough, but dear god, the ship was small. It had pitched and rolled so mercilessly that Su Wan had spent the entire voyage sprawled across her bunk, moaning with seasickness.

"Greetings, Chief! I am a staff member of the Kaohsiung Municipal Hospitality Office. Welcome to our location for guidance and inspection!"

A young man in crisp attire bellowed his introduction and snapped a salute—receiving and sending off every Elder who passed through Kaohsiung was part of his duties. The young naturalized-civilian worker had seen plenty of Elders by now, including female ones, and his sense of novelty had long since worn thin. But Su Wan's appearance still gave him a start.

This female Chief is terrifyingly tall! he thought with secret alarm. I didn't know women could grow this big!

Su Wan stood at one hundred eighty centimeters—a height rare even among male Elders, let alone natives or naturalized civilians. Yet she weighed only fifty-nine kilograms. The combination had earned her the dubious distinction of being the female Elder with the worst figure—at least according to the curve-obsessed otaku contingent.

"Skip the pleasantries," Su Wan said, waving a listless hand. "I'm dying of exhaustion. Is there a carriage?"

"A carriage has been prepared for you." The cadre's gaze drifted to her bare feet, and he received another shock—this woman's feet were even bigger than Elder Wei's! And those boots slung over her shoulder looked like little boats.

"What, never seen a woman before?" Su Wan asked with pointed displeasure, catching his astonished stare.

"Ah—no, no." The worker started in alarm—attempting to molest a female Elder was probably a capital offense for one's entire family. But he felt aggrieved inside: Where did I have such intentions? He hastened to recover: "The carriage is ready. Please, Chief."

"What about my luggage?"

"It will be delivered to the guesthouse."

She boarded a two-wheeled "Dongfeng" official carriage. The vehicle had been stationed in Kaohsiung for some time, overworked in the subtropical heat and starved of maintenance. The body and oilcloth canopy had been bleached by sun and rain; here and there, ugly patches had been applied. The rush-mat cover on the seat cushion had split at the edges and been carefully mended. The whole thing looked rather shabby.

No welcoming ceremony presided over by Elders. No review, no welcoming band, no mounted escort of Japanese security troops with sabers. She had been unceremoniously bundled into a carriage by a lowly clerk. The indignity rankled. Back in Lingao, at least police officers and students would salute her when she came and went. What kind of treatment is this? she thought. I'm still a senior police officer, after all.

As one of the few Elder police officers in the National Police, Su Wan's public profile was pitifully low. Her profession confined her mostly to crime scenes, autopsy rooms, laboratories, and classrooms. Even in Lingao, few knew her face. But at her height, once she appeared in that black police uniform, she was guaranteed to leave an impression.

Her features were decently proportioned, her complexion fairly fair. With proper styling, she could be quite attractive. But her small, sharp eyes were forever darting about, sizing up the exposed skin of every person she encountered, regardless of gender or age. Her black hair—long enough to reach her waist when loose—was sometimes worn down, sometimes braided and draped over her left chest. A pair of black-framed glasses perpetually hung around her slender neck. Her small hands, sometimes painted with red nail polish and sometimes silver, often propped up her pointed chin in unconscious contemplation.

To forensic scientists of later generations, she was the empire's Song Ci—its Song Tixing—and more than that: she was to forensics what Lu Ban was to carpentry, the founding ancestor and pioneer of modern forensic medicine and criminal investigation. Marble and bronze busts of her stood in the lobbies of the Central Police University's Forensic Medicine Department and various forensic institutions, gazing upon those who came after in expressions both stern and serene. The dozen or so monographs she authored became authoritative texts for the profession's theoretical courses. Her portrait was even engraved on medals specially awarded to forensic workers, beneath which appeared her famous saying: Speak for the dead; uphold the rights of the living.

But in the old time-space, Su Wan had been merely a mediocre forensic examiner from a third-tier county seat in the northwest, who had lost her job over a misdiagnosis and, in despair, had defiantly signed up for the transmigration as a single participant.

As the only seedling in a thousand acres—the sole actual forensic professional among the transmigrators—she was naturally more qualified than doctors who treated the living or veterinarians who treated animals. Thus, like other Elders who had possessed no prospects in the old time-space, she had risen to high position in this new one. She had been appointed Director of the National Police Forensic Center, with the rank of Regional Commander—equivalent to a lieutenant colonel in the military.

The carriage lurched and jolted along the gravel road. Kaohsiung was not Lingao; road conditions were limited and there was no small train to ride. The carriage crawled along, slow and teeth-rattlingly bumpy. Su Wan—already wrung out from seasickness—began to wonder if she would give up the ghost right here. And worse than dying was the thought of being buried anywhere other than Cuigang. She clutched her collar and braid and gutted it out until, at last, the carriage shuddered to a halt before the central stilt house of the "extremely sci-fi" Kaohsiung Guesthouse.

Su Wan jumped down and, after a bout of dizziness, finally steadied herself. The sentry at the door took in the carriage and her attire and recognized her at once as the expected "female Chief." He immediately presented arms. "Greetings, Chief!"

Su Wan raised her right hand in a perfunctory salute, forgetting entirely that she was out of uniform and still barefoot. Lowering her head with a yawn: "Someone help me."

The sentry didn't dare delay and quickly called out. Two soldiers resting in a nearby hut came running and hastened to support her by the arms. Su Wan was simply too tall; even though by this era's standards the two sentries were burly men, they seemed rather short beside her. Though she was thin, she weighed them down considerably—especially over the several dozen steps they had to climb. Getting her inside and seated took considerable effort.

The room was circular, decorated in the Elders' habitually minimalist style. A semicircular service counter occupied the center, and rattan benches with matching low tables lined the walls. Beyond that, there were only cabinets standing against the walls.

After slumping in a rattan chair and spacing out for a while, Su Wan finally recovered. When her head and eyes felt somewhat normal again, two servants in short-sleeved summer maid uniforms were already standing before her. She looked up and suddenly realized that her disheveled hair and bare feet were really too undignified—hardly befitting an Elder's imposing aura. She instinctively tried to shrink further into the chair, but at one hundred eighty centimeters, she found it rather cramped, and no matter how she curled up, she couldn't shrink much.

Finally realizing she had lost her composure, Su Wan hastily suppressed the fatigue and numbness on her face and summoned the cold arrogance and sharpness befitting a female forensic examiner: "Mm, comrades, who are you?"

"Reporting to Chief: this is the Kaohsiung Special Municipality Guesthouse of the General Affairs Office, a residence specially for Chiefs to stay and recuperate. We are the servants here. The secretary from Chief Wei's office has already given us instructions to arrange for your comfort. We will now prepare your room. Please rest for a moment. If you need anything, just summon us."

"Good. Take me to my room."

"Please follow me, Chief."

When she opened the door and looked, Su Wan's eyes went wide. This guesthouse was truly "fantasy" or "sci-fi" enough. It was nestled in a sparse grove of tall trees at the foot of a hill. With mountains behind and the sea before, it was both well-ventilated and shaded. The place where she stood was the central large domed stilt house, surrounded on all sides by an open veranda. Arranged around it in two levels with tasteful irregularity were smaller dome-shaped stilt houses. All of them were connected to the central structure by rope-woven suspension bridges.

This is just like the Ewok village in Star Wars! Su Wan exclaimed inwardly. So fucking corrupt! No wonder everyone said the overseas Elders were all corrupt without exception—they had elevated corruption to an art form. I wonder how Wei Bachiyuan and the rest are living it up. Should report them to the Cheka.

Two maids supported the still-dizzy Su Wan across the swaying suspension bridge and opened the door of one of the small huts.

"This is your room. Your luggage has already been delivered. If you wish to bathe, please go to the central hall."

"Thank you. You can go about your business. I need to rest." Su Wan went happily inside, finding it somewhat similar to a budget hotel from the old time-space, except far more spacious. The décor was extremely simple, but the all-wood construction possessed its own rustic charm.

A large bed had been set up in the center of the room, already fully made. Su Wan didn't care that her feet were filthy; she dropped her boots on the floor, flung off her jacket, and flopped face-first onto the mattress. Just as she had done when returning home from work in the old time-space, or at her residence in Lingao, she wriggled about and tugged off her skirt, underwear, and bra, tossed them aside, pulled back the covers, and burrowed in.

"There's nowhere as comfortable as bed—that really is the truth." She murmured contentedly at the ceiling, stretching her limbs and savoring the pleasant sensation of the rough cotton sheets and fine lan-grass mat against her bare skin, utterly unbothered by the fact that she was sleeping naked.

I wonder whose distinguished corpse they've specially summoned me to dissect. The thought drifted pleasantly through her mind as she rolled over. Less than a minute later, she was asleep.