7:55 a.m. at the Royal Thai Police Headquarters

    Ten police officers lined up for the morning roll call in front of the flagpole. Some had one star on their shoulders, others had two. They all turned to look at a sporty motorcycle that was parked not far away. The rider was a slender young woman, dressed in snug, secure clothing. Her slightly forward-leaning riding posture was captivating. When she removed her helmet and shook her ponytail as if in slow motion, she looked both beautiful and irresistibly charming.

    “Wow, a tiny girl riding a Z300 with a two-cylinder engine. That’s cool.”

    “Who’s that with the cute bunny backpack? Can I get your number?”

    The young policemen were excited, their minds distracted, as the young woman dismounted, carried her helmet, and walked into the office. Some stared dreamily and stood uneasily, causing the senior officers to laugh.

    “You, newbies, don’t get any ideas. This sacred little lady is off-limits. Look, but don’t touch. Consider this a warning.”

    “Why? Does she have a boyfriend already?”

    “No, it’s because no one dares to date her. That’s Yok, the daughter of the police chief. Her father guards her more fiercely than a cobra guards its eggs. Anyone who tries to flirt with Yok ends up getting transferred to some remote jungle. Do you know about the three La?”

    “Three La? What La?”

    “Lawit, Lapat, and Latthipon, the three brothers from the Arintaraj unit. They’re Miss Yok’s brothers. If you think her father is tough, her brothers are even tougher.”

    “And another thing... no one’s mentally strong enough.” The senior officer pointed to the Forensic Institute building, crowded with staff and relatives waiting to claim bodies.

    “Yok is an autopsy doctor.”

    ---

    The Forensic Institute was busier than usual today due to media covering the death of a famous person. The large ceremonial room, where families brought coffins to collect bodies, was filled with naked, stiff corpses piled on gurneys due to limited space. The open area was also full of bodies wrapped in white cloths recently delivered by a foundation. More than twenty corpses were laid out as soon as they arrived. Lalita, or Yok, familiar with the sight, walked past with an indifferent expression.

    “Not gone, not forgotten...”

    Suddenly, Lalita felt someone behind her whispering something. She stopped and turned around, but the corridor was empty.

    “Hello, everyone’s ready, Dr. Yok.”

    “Understood. I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

    The work of a forensic pathologist is as demanding as any other medical field, involving lifting, turning, dissecting, and weighing bodies, entering the laboratory for examinations, and frequent court appearances as an expert witness. The workload is immense due to the shortage of professionals in this field. Lalita often spent all day at work, barely seeing her father and brothers. However, when she read the daily messages from her brothers via LINE (chat application), she couldn't help but pout unconsciously.

    Big **** Lawitty: Little sis Yok, scold those two. They washed my underwear with theirs. The color ran! Damn it, now it’s bright pink.

    Princess Lapatsa, the Muscular: Looks good, pink. My red underwear faded too, but I didn’t complain. Hey, Yok, what do you want for dinner? Fried or omelet eggs? I’ll make it for you.

    Lalita: Omelet.

    Princess Lapatsa, the Muscular: With minced pork?

    Lalita: Lots of minced pork, please.

    Princess Lapatsa, the Muscular: Then buy some eggs. We’re out of eggs and pork.

    Lalita gritted her teeth, mouthed a silent curse “annoying jerk” at Brother Lapat, and quickly typed back.

    Lalita: ( =..= ) I’m busy today, so I’ll be home late.

    Princess Lapatsa, the Muscular: Yok, it’s tastier when you’re the one who buys them. We’ll wait to eat with you.

    Big **** Lawitty: Yok doesn’t care about me TT. Yok doesn’t love me anymore.

    Lattevil, who wanna get hurt_come this way: Yok, check out this cute junior doctor. Help me flirt with her. I’ll fill your gas tank for a month.

    Lalita rolled her eyes and turned off her phone. Sometimes her three brothers were sweet, but mostly they were a pain. She felt like a planet with her brothers orbiting around her. Lalita went to store her personal items, removed her jewelry, and changed into a larger sterile gown for mobility. These second-hand gowns were from the operating room that the hospital no longer used. The forensic department would clean and sterilize them for reuse. They were old but still in good condition, though a bit loose. Lalita tied her hair into a bun, put on a sterile cap, a disposable plastic apron, rubber gloves, and boot covers.

    Then she cleared her mind.

    The officers in charge of the case and the forensic police stood as Dr. Lalita arrived. Their forced smiles showed no one was happy to be dealing with a body so early in the morning.

    “Doctor, I’m glad you’re handling this case. If you need assistance, I’m all in.”

    “Thank you. You’re the first to offer that.” Lalita glanced sideways, as the rules of the autopsy room, the bigger the officer, the quicker they fainted in the autopsy room. And he was twice her size. As for her brothers, they were built like oxen but never dared enter the autopsy room.

    “Please report the scene where the body was found.”

    Lalita activated the voice recorder. Besides the involved officers, there was a diener assisting her. She greeted her colleagues and led everyone to the morgue, where the smell of embalming fluid, cleaning agents, and death mixed. Inside, large freezers were next to the autopsy room, with shelves of embalming fluids for evidence preservation, a grocery store-style metal scale, and surgical tools laid out on the table.

    “The deceased is a 63-year-old Chinese man with the surname Zhang. He traveled to Thailand alone several times. The hotel maid found his body lying on the balcony bed, appearing to be sleeping, with a syringe beside him. We are awaiting lab results on the chemical in the syringe.”

    “A jade trader with a shady background,” the case officer added, providing details on the deceased's background, habits, health issues, and sexual preferences. “He was influential in the black market and connected to high-ranking politicians. The Chinese authorities have requested our help in determining the cause of death before repatriating the body.”

    “The onsite examination revealed a blood bruise on his back, suggesting he died at least a day before being found.”

    The heart, a fist-sized pump, moves blood through the body, blending blood cells and plasma. When the heart stops, blood settles and the platelets sink to the lower parts of the body, causing the body to turn reddish-brown, which helps estimate the time of death. The case officer showed a file of suspects, including a photo of a man with a scar on his right cheek.

    “The last person seen with the deceased was his adopted son, who is currently missing. We’re unsure if he left the country. He might be the perpetrator.”

    “The body will provide the answers.”

    Silence fell as the diener opened the freezer. Another officer recorded the time. The body was placed on a metal table with perforations for cleaning fluids to drain. Lalita preferred this over marble slabs that absorbed bodily fluids for decades. When the body bag was unzipped, the stench of death filled the room.

    The large officer fainted as Lalita and the diener removed the body from the bag and unwrapped it. Everyone applied menthol balm to their noses and covered their mouths with masks, except Lalita, who wanted to detect any scents that might indicate the cause of death.

    “Almond scent... cyanide and… alcohol.”

    The female forensic pathologist examined the shroud and body bag to ensure no evidence was missed, which could be gum, soil, sand, bullets, or possibly hair, and…

    Lalita looked around and reported her findings, then her eyes noticed something unusual. She pulled something from the body’s mouth. The police averted their gaze, thinking that this petite, beautiful-faced doctor seemed incredibly resolute.

    What Lalita retrieved was the small jade piece, about the size of a ten-baht coin, connected to a jade chain and carved with a cloud-striding Qilin, a Chinese antique. Judging from the color and age of the jade, it was likely worth over ten million baht. However, forensic procedures reduced its value to just a round, flat, dark green stone attached to a dark green chain. Someone might have hidden it in the deceased’s mouth, or the deceased might have wanted to secretly conceal it form someone. Alternatively, he placed it there himself based on a belief.

    “I’ll have this examined immediately.”

    The forensic officer took the jade after collecting residue samples and placed it in an evidence bag. The autopsy of this Chinese man took until almost noon, concluding that the body had high lactic acid, causing cellular respiration failure, possibly from liver failure, prolonged seizures, or cyanide poisoning. Fingerprint and chemical tests on the syringe and tissue results would provide further insights.

    Lalita stretched after standing for hours at the autopsy table. She changed clothes, accepting that the smell of death lingered on her. This was why she preferred riding her motorcycle to work instead of driving with her father. While typing the autopsy report and munching on a bland sandwich, Lalita had an idea.

    Her father, Police General Lersak, was a collector of antiques, many inherited from her great-grandfather. Lalita sent a picture of the Qilin jade to her father via LINE. Normally, her busy father took a while to respond, but he called back immediately.

    “Yok, where did you get this jade?”

    “It’s from the case of a Chinese antique trader, Dad. The report will be on your desk tomorrow. May I ask why?”

    "Don't touch it again," her father's voice was so stern that it surprised her. "I’m ordering you. Let someone else handle this case. Do you understand?"

    "Dad, do you still believe in those old legends? It’s just a piece of jade, nothing special."

    Her father hung up. Moments later, an order came down removing her from the case, citing health issues.

    The question was why.

    ---

    Lalita’s ancestors were overseas Chinese who emigrated during the reign of King Rama VI, starting as coolies and rickshaw pullers. Having nothing but a mat and a pillow, they gradually owned a grocery stall in the market. Descendants who received an education had the opportunity to enter government service in minor positions and progressed over time. Her father told her that her great-grandfather was one of Thailand’s first police cadets, patrolling on horseback. There weren’t many criminals to catch then because public beheadings instilled fear and deterred people from committing crimes. From her great-grandfather’s generation onward, descendants served as police officers. A family belief passed down through generations was that if any female descendant encountered a Qilin, it would take her away.

    “Dad, you believe in those old, superstitious stories too much.”

    “Believing in them doesn’t hurt, Yok. You know how seriously Dad takes this. He didn’t even allow the Qilin statue given by a senior officer into our house.” Her three brothers sat across from their sister, each with a plate of omelet with minced pork. In the middle of the table was a large dish of baked prawns with spicy sauce, prepared by Lapat. Lawit shelled the prawns for everyone, while Latthipon ate quietly. Lalita, still frustrated, sat with a frown.

    “Dad’s being unreasonable.”

    “He’s just worried about you, Yok. Don’t overthink it. We’re low-ranking officers and have to follow orders. Eat your food before it gets cold. Latthi, don’t take your sister’s prawns.”

    Though Lalita was a forensic doctor, the strong police bloodline in her made her sense that her father was deliberately keeping her away from the case, which only piqued her curiosity more. The Qilin jade seemed like any other piece of jade; what was there to worry about? What was her father so concerned about?

    After dinner, Lalita went into her father’s study, took out an antique book for reference, and estimated that the Qilin seal on the jade was likely made during the Zhou dynasty, one of the most chaotic periods in Chinese history.

    “The land split into hundreds of regions, each waging wars to conquer others. The Qilin symbolized the Li Region, the northern mountainous region.”

    The Qilin of the ancient state had a distinct artistic style, different from other periods. It was unique due to its classical design and colors. It might have been a precious item from a tomb or a gift to a noble. Lalita recalled something and opened the safe nearby. She remembered her grandmother giving her a keepsake before she passed away, instructing her to keep it well and pass it on only to a female descendant named Yok.

    After searching for a while, she found a small velvet pouch. Inside was a flat, round jade piece, a frame for holding a coin. Curiously, she felt it would fit the Qilin jade perfectly. The jade from her grandmother had ancient inscriptions that she couldn’t read.

    A gust of wind blew despite the windows and doors being closed. Lalita felt she was not alone, as if something was swirling around her. When she looked at the inscriptions again, she found she could read them.

    “Not gone, not forgotten, steadfast and eternal... Not parted, not abandoned, everlasting...”

    These four sentences traversed thousands of years to convey one person's thoughts to another. Lalita suddenly realized that tears were streaming down her face. She quickly wiped them from her cheeks, confused. It had been a long time since she cried, not since her mother passed away from cancer. But these characters were squeezing her heart, breaking it into pieces.

    "To Li Lin, my beloved consort… Li Xuanyue."