Chapter 610 - 479: Suspected Infection Source 2

Under the blessing of the ancestors, these children can also focus more on their studies. Otherwise, if the ancestors see them and come to talk to them at night, wouldn’t that scare someone to death?

Three side rooms in the backyard.

Mr. Cen, the village school teacher, lived here.

In the middle was the reception room, with the bedroom on the left and Mr. Cen’s study on the right. Living alone in such a place, apart from being a bit lonely, he was quite at ease.

The smell was coming from the bedroom,

but one had to enter through the reception room door. The door was wide open, presumably left so when the village chief and others came over and forgot to close it when they left, allowing the smell to spread. It’s fortunate they opened the door.

Luckily, it’s cold, otherwise, the smell would be even stronger.

As soon as you stepped inside, the smell intensified at least tenfold.

Yue Mei’Er, a beauty who loved cleanliness, almost retched at the smell, but seeing Lin Miao’s calm expression, she forced herself to endure it.

"Hold a piece of ginger, it will help a bit." Lin Miao handed Yue Mei’Er a piece of ginger.

Yue Mei’Er took the ginger piece and put it in her mouth. In a little while, she felt much better. Her man truly knew everything, he was indeed a treasure.

If the original Saint Heir were alive, she wouldn’t be interested in him. She might even have to help get rid of him.

Anyway, she only recognized Lin Miao as the "Young Master."

Pushing aside the heavy curtain, an even stronger smell hit her nose. There’s nothing to be done; having a keen sense of smell isn’t always good.

The furnishings in the room were simple: a table, two chairs by the window, a wardrobe against the wall, and a camphor wood chest.

Then there was a kang bed.

This Mr. Cen was lying on the kang, his face full of pustules that had long since burst and oozed pus, making his whole face unrecognizable as human.

Such a terrifying way to die, indeed quite frightening.

"Young Master, this person’s death is too horrific. Do all those who die from the pox look like this?" Yue Mei’Er asked from behind Lin Miao.

"More or less, but it’s evident he’s been dead for several days, otherwise, it wouldn’t look like this." Lin Miao, though not a forensic doctor, had some basic medical knowledge as a doctor.

Moreover, no coroner would come to examine this body, as any coroner would fear handling a body infected with the pox, unless he had survived the pox himself and was immune.

"Mei’Er, go find Yurou. Ask her to bring some glass bottles over, I need to collect some samples." Lin Miao instructed, "Also, bring my medicine box."

"What?"

"Hurry." Lin Miao urged.

"Oh, okay."

"Before you meet Yurou, disinfect yourself first. Also, Yurou can come alone, you don’t need to come back."

Yue Mei’Er answered in a fluster and ran out.

Lin Miao went over, opened the room’s window, and tied up the curtain. This place was some distance from the village, so even if the virus spread, its concentration would dilute to insignificance.

But the concentration inside the room was undoubtedly high, and the smell unpleasant. Airing it out was indeed necessary.

Wearing gloves, Lin Miao did not immediately start but instead carefully observed Mr. Cen’s condition.

Based on the room’s temperature, humidity, the degree of body decomposition, and rigor mortis, with his rudimentary forensic knowledge, he roughly judged that Mr. Cen had been dead for over three days.

According to the village chief, they hadn’t seen Mr. Cen for more than five days.

Getting infected with the pox, once it worsens without treatment, it can quickly lead to sudden death.

Finding two wooden sticks, Lin Miao lifted the quilt covering the body to reveal a frail figure. No wonder Mr. Cen’s condition rapidly worsened after contracting the pox.

First, he lived alone. During the holidays, he cooked for himself, without anyone helping him at home. As for washing clothes, he didn’t wash them daily. In the cold weather, without bathing or changing clothes, not washing them for a few days was normal...

He had a fever, lacked strength, and might have thought he could endure, as evident from the bowl beside the bed.

He had fetched water for himself.

Before his death, he curled up, his face contorted, clearly in great pain during his final moments.

The blood seeping out from inside his body was undoubtedly a torment, as he lived too far from any village settlement. Even if he wanted to cry for help, he had no chance.

Thus, he died miserably from illness.

Mr. Cen couldn’t have contracted the pox without cause; if he was patient zero, he must have contacted the source of infection.

With him dead, it wasn’t possible to get information from him. According to the village chief, Mr. Cen rarely traveled far, mostly staying in Erli Village and nearby, being physically frail, he wouldn’t venture into the mountains. Besides, in this deep winter, the mountains were covered in thick snow; if he wandered off and faced danger, no one would find him.

So, he mostly stayed indoors reading and writing, or occasionally wandered around the village.

His life was very routine.

Yet this very routine person, with limited activity and simple social interactions, was the first to die from the pox infection.

This left Lin Miao perplexed.

He carefully examined the items in the room but found nothing unusual. Lin Miao then went to the study, where a simple desk, ordinary pens, ink, paper, and inkstone, and unremarkable books on the bookshelf revealed nothing special.