In 1983, when Liu Liang graduated with a degree in clinical medicine, he developed a strong interest in forensic pathology after reading a Soviet forensic medicine textbook. He actively requested a job swap with a classmate who had been assigned to a forensic position but couldn't adapt to it. From that moment on, he never left the autopsy table. Over a 43-year career, he completed more than 4,000 autopsies. From decomposed and bloated crime scenes to complex mysteries obscured by layers of lies, he grew accustomed to using absolute rationality to suture together blood and incompleteness. In March this year, the retired Liu Liang released his popular science book "The Truth Will Not Be Silent," which looks back on his 43-year forensic career and serves as a confession to the living.

Liu Liang: I went nearly twenty years without performing autopsies on infants and young children. But in some special cases, when families trust me and specifically request that I do it, I will. In a recent case involving this child, I still haven't forgotten the image of that kid. Until the very end, when I was dressing the child and wrapping them up, I instructed my assistant that whatever the child was wearing on their head before the autopsy, we needed to restore it for them after. So in special cases, I do retain memories of children. Except for my older brother, our entire family has signed organ donation agreements. I suggested he not sign—we need someone to tend to our graves (laughs). I already know my own fate. After I'm gone, I'll likely be sent to the anatomy lab pool at our school, right next to my current office. My body will teach students: I had my gallbladder removed, I suffered from pancreatitis, my pancreas may have issues, so you can study it more carefully, haha.

Wuhan has a memorial for organ donors. My parents' and my names will likely be on different monuments, arranged chronologically. My mother asked me if we could put her name and my father's together. I said we can't break their rules.