Chapter 7: Still Fuming From The Scolding He Had Just Received, His Mind Filled With One Thought: Where Is Lu Shujin?

Lu Shujin now finally understood what that deep look from Ji Shuoting meant when he left that morning.

Xiao Jin’s writing—let alone imitating it—was torturous to even read once. If he had to go through it himself, he’d probably run into several characters he couldn’t even recognize.

Yet this young master didn’t seem to have the slightest awareness of how difficult he was being. He simply left her with, “Come back at this time tomorrow and show me what you’ve written. Let’s see how well you can imitate it.”

Lu Shujin took a few sheets of paper home, and now she was genuinely troubled.

The neater and more elegant the handwriting, the harder it is to imitate. Lu Shujin had always enjoyed copying various calligraphy styles—seal, cursive, running, and regular scripts—so she had a good command of brush control. That’s why she had the confidence to tell Xiao Jin she could imitate his writing.

But that was assuming Xiao Jin’s writing resembled actual human script.

That entire afternoon, she studied Xiao Jin’s handwriting. Her brows barely relaxed. The most recognizable characters on the whole page were “Xiao Jin”—perhaps because it was his name, he had written it somewhat clearly.

So when Wu Chengyun glanced over, the first thing he saw were those two bold characters in the lower left corner of the page. He had no idea what Lu Shujin was up to, but seeing how focused she was, he didn’t interrupt.

That night, back in her dorm, Lu Shujin wrote four book commentaries, two policy essays, and filled a pile of scrap paper practicing Xiao Jin’s handwriting. Exhausted, she fell asleep the moment she hit the bed—and surprisingly, slept soundly through the night.

The next day, she handed her assignments to Liu Quan as usual. After class, she went to find Xiao Jin again. Remembering how impatient he was the day before, she quickened her pace.

It was early September, and the summer heat still lingered in Yuncheng. She had hurried over so quickly that her forehead and nose were dotted with fine sweat. Her fair face was tinged with a rosy flush, making her look especially radiant.

When she arrived at the entrance of Dingzi Hall, she was surprised to find that the teacher hadn’t left yet. All the students inside were sitting upright, even Xiao Jin in the back had put away his usual slouch.

Lu Shujin’s sudden appearance caught the teacher’s eye immediately. He stopped lecturing and turned to look at her. All the students followed suit, turning their heads in unison.

It was Qiao Bailian himself teaching the class.

Startled, Lu Shujin instinctively turned to look at Xiao Jin. She saw him take advantage of Qiao Bailian’s distraction to relax his posture, propping his handsome face on his left hand and glancing at her from afar.

She quickly bowed to Qiao Bailian and stepped back several paces to stand where the students couldn’t see her. Her face burned with embarrassment, and the heat surged up again. She had to fan herself with her hand to cool down.

After being interrupted, Qiao Bailian didn’t continue the lecture. He packed up his books and dismissed the class. All the students stood up and said in unison, “Respectfully seeing the teacher off.”

Before the words had even fully faded, he had already walked out the door—only to see Lu Shujin standing nearby.

Lu Shujin bowed and said, “I apologize for disturbing your lecture, sir. I realize my mistake.”

If it had been anyone else today, Qiao Bailian would have likely been displeased. But he was especially fond of Lu Shujin and didn’t mind her earlier interruption at all. He smiled gently and asked, “What brings you here?”

Lu Shujin answered honestly, “I have something to deliver to Young Master Xiao.”

Qiao Bailian was surprised but didn’t press her about what it was. After a pause, he said, “One becomes red by being near cinnabar and black by being near ink. You should avoid associating too much with that rascal, lest he lead you astray.”

He didn’t mean to insult Xiao Jin maliciously—it was just that Lu Shujin had such a pure and clean temperament. She was like the lotus on Haizhou Academy’s emblem: untouched by dust, untainted by impurity. Xiao Jin, on the other hand, was wild and indulgent in food, drink, and entertainment. If Lu Shujin got too close to him, she might pick up the habits of a typical aristocratic heir.

Lu Shujin smiled and replied, “Young Master Xiao is straightforward and warm-hearted. I believe I can learn from his strengths.”

Though Qiao Bailian often criticized Xiao Jin, anyone with eyes could see he was fond of his old friend’s son. So Lu Shujin’s words were well chosen. Qiao Bailian’s smile deepened, and he said, “You’re both students at Haizhou. As classmates, there’s no need to call him ‘Young Master.’ Just use his name.”

“All right, I won’t keep you from your lunch. Go find him.” Qiao Bailian patted Lu Shujin’s shoulder and left with a satisfied expression.

After he left, the students of Dingzi Hall quickly filed out. As they passed Lu Shujin, many of them glanced at her with curiosity and interest before moving on.

Once the hall was empty, Lu Shujin entered. That “straightforward and warm-hearted” Xiao Jin was currently chatting animatedly with Ji Shuoting.

As she approached, she heard him grumbling, “That Teacher Tang keeps tattling to my dad. Last time he said I was drooling over pork in front of a butcher shop. The old man sent me three letters scolding me. Damn it, if I catch him taking the back road again…”

Lu Shujin’s eyelid twitched at this crude remark. She stopped in front of his desk and said, “Young Master Xiao.”

Xiao Jin didn’t look at her, just waved a hand. “Hand it over.”

She pulled the papers from her sleeve, smoothed them out, and passed them to him. Xiao Jin took them and glanced down. His expression shifted from indifference to surprise. His eyes skimmed the page and paused at the two characters “Xiao Jin” in the lower left corner—the most accurately imitated part. Finally, he looked up at her.

“No wonder the teachers always praise you. You really do have some skill.” His expression was genuine—he clearly saw her in a new light.

Lu Shujin quietly let out a breath of relief and smiled. “You flatter me, Young Master Xiao.”

He placed the paper on the desk, reached into Ji Shuoting’s sleeve, and tossed something to Lu Shujin.

She reflexively caught it and looked down—it was a small silver ingot.

“This is your payment,” Xiao Jin said casually, as if he hadn’t heard her earlier talk about repaying kindness. He simply treated it as a transaction—silver in exchange for ghostwriting.

Lu Shujin was stunned, holding the silver ingot between her fingers. “This is for the essays?”

Xiao Jin raised an eyebrow. “Too little?”

She shook her head immediately.

It wasn’t too little—if anything, it was far too much. She hadn’t expected Xiao Jin to pay her, let alone so generously. Last time, with the money he gave her for the buns, she had hired a carriage, bought supplies, a velvet flower hairpin, and two sets of outerwear—and still had money left over. Now, with this silver ingot, she could eat well for quite a while without worrying about poverty.

All the resentment from staying up late the past two nights vanished without a trace. Lu Shujin’s mood lifted instantly. Her smile reached her eyes, making them sparkle. Even her voice was laced with joy: “Thank you, Young Master Xiao.”

“In the future, just bring it in the morning. No need to give it to me—give it to Fang Yi,” Xiao Jin said.

Lu Shujin was about to ask who Fang Yi was when one of the people sitting nearby stood up and waved at her. “That’s me.”

Ji Shuoting was watching leisurely from the side when he suddenly remarked, “You used to only occasionally submit extracurricular essays. If you start turning them in regularly now, won’t the teachers get suspicious?”

Xiao Jin replied irritably, “What, I’m not allowed to turn over a new leaf?”

Ji Shuoting laughed at him. “I’m just afraid your reformation will be so impressive that Dean Qiao will haul you up in front of the entire Haizhou Academy to give you a commendation.”

Thinking of the high hopes Qiao Bailian had placed on him, Xiao Jin sighed gloomily.

Even though he was a pampered young master who had everything he wanted and no one dared to cross him, he still had his own troubles.

Lu Shujin returned to class in high spirits, her mood buoyant all afternoon. Wu Chengyun asked her several times what good fortune she had encountered, but she only said she found some money and didn’t elaborate.

But the good fortune didn’t stop there. A single silver ingot wasn’t nearly enough to match Xiao Jin’s reputation as a rich and idle playboy.

In the days that followed, every time she delivered an essay, Xiao Jin would give her another silver ingot. In just a few days, the small box she used to store her savings was already half full.

Every night before bed, Lu Shujin would lie under her blanket, pour out the silver ingots, count them one by one, and plan what she needed to buy.

If nothing else, she could at least afford a better set of writing brushes and ink.

Still, ghostwriting for so many people was exhausting. She hadn’t had a proper rest in days, and she was also worried about Pei’er—whether she had returned safely, and whether reporting to the authorities had helped.

Haizhou Academy had a packed daily schedule, and there was a curfew at night. The academy also conducted random dorm inspections. If caught staying out overnight without permission, the punishment was severe. Lu Shujin didn’t dare break curfew and could only wait for the next rest day.

Two nights before the rest day, she laid out her finished essays on the table to dry. After the ink had set, she carefully reviewed them again. Once she was sure there were no mistakes, she blew out the lamp and went to bed, having worked late into the night.

As she lay in bed, she thought about buying two more quilts to lay underneath her. She had been too frugal before to afford such things, but now that she had received generous payment from the wealthy Xiao Jin, her body had grown more sensitive. The bed felt too hard, and her bones ached from it.

The next morning, Wu Chengyun entered the classroom and saw Lu Shujin already seated and reading.

Wu Chengyun was usually the early bird, always arriving before Lu Shujin. But lately, she had been cutting it close, arriving just before the teacher. Today, she was even earlier than him, which surprised him.

After sitting down, he greeted her as usual. “You’re up early today. Did you sleep well last night?”

But she didn’t look like she had. Lu Shujin still seemed tired and answered off-topic, “Mm, because I’m going to Baili Pond at noon.”

Wu Chengyun was confused. “What?”

Lu Shujin rested her head on the desk, closed her eyes, and repeated softly, “Going to Baili Pond at noon.”

Wu Chengyun was baffled. What did going to Baili Pond have to do with her arriving early?

The morning passed quickly. Though Lu Shujin looked tired, she was surprisingly alert and focused during the lecture, just like usual. However, the piece of paper on her desk with the words “Going to Baili Pond at noon” written on it seemed odd and caught Wu Chengyun’s attention several times.

He began to suspect something was off with her.

When the bell rang for the end of class and the teacher left, Lu Shujin—who usually stayed behind until everyone else had gone—suddenly stood up, crumpled the paper, stuffed it into her sleeve, and hurried out.

Wu Chengyun craned his neck to watch her go, but she had already vanished from sight.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Xiao Jin had been attending class regularly. He sat quietly through lectures and even completed all his assignments on time. Whether it was book analyses, policy essays, or regular compositions, he turned in full pages. Though his handwriting was still atrocious, at least it was now legible, and the content wasn’t as hopeless as before.

Such progress made the teachers of Dingzi Hall very pleased—especially Qiao Bailian.

Over the past few days, he had occasionally heard other teachers praising Xiao Jin, which made him quite happy. As soon as he finished his lecture, he eagerly pulled out the extracurricular assignments he had collected the day before and quickly found Xiao Jin’s among the stack.

Qiao Bailian had a smile on his face at first, but after reading a few lines, his smile froze. The further he read, the deeper his frown became. His expression turned increasingly complex—shock and anger mixed together—until his face looked downright grim.

Tang Xueli, who was nearby, noticed and asked with concern, “Master Qiao, are you feeling unwell?”

But Qiao Bailian couldn’t hear a thing. His mind was clouded with fury. His eyes darted across the page, reading every word from top to bottom. Then he suddenly slammed the table and roared, “Bring that rascal Xiao Jin to me immediately!”

The other teachers in the room were so startled they fell silent.

Soon, Xiao Jin was summoned to the Reflection Room.

When he entered, only Qiao Bailian was there. He stood behind a desk, a sheet of paper laid out in front of him. The writing was dense and packed. From a few steps away, Xiao Jin could only make out his own name on the page.

Qiao Bailian sat at the desk with a dark expression. From Xiao Jin’s experience, he could tell immediately that the old man was furious. He began to wonder—had that bookworm’s ghostwriting been discovered?

“Greetings, sir,” Xiao Jin greeted respectfully.

“Did you write this?” Qiao Bailian’s voice was cold, his face as dark as the bottom of a pot.

Xiao Jin studied his expression, unsure whether this was a trap or if Qiao Bailian had truly discovered the essay wasn’t his own work.

Qiao Bailian was a retired official, full of cunning and strategy. Xiao Jin knew better than to take him lightly. So he didn’t confess and replied, “Yes, I wrote it myself.”

“Then do you remember what you wrote?”

That question caught Xiao Jin off guard. How could he possibly know what was on that paper? Everything was handed off to Fang Yi by Lu Shujin and then submitted to the teacher—he never even saw it.

He answered, “I wrote it according to the topic you assigned.”

But Qiao Bailian suddenly slammed the table again, the loud bang making Xiao Jin flinch.

He picked up the paper and flung it at Xiao Jin. “Nonsense! Look at what you wrote! The topic I assigned yesterday was ‘Annotations on Selected Passages from the Book of Songs,’ and you wrote something completely unrelated!”

Xiao Jin was startled. He picked up the paper and looked at it—his expression turned strange.

He couldn’t read it.

The handwriting did resemble his own to some extent, but he could usually recognize his own messy scrawl. When someone else imitated it, it became much harder to decipher.

However, in the middle of the page, there was a section where the handwriting suddenly became much clearer and easier to read. Xiao Jin skimmed through it—and immediately felt dizzy and overwhelmed.

At that moment, Qiao Bailian’s furious voice rang out, “Absolutely outrageous! You annotated the phrase ‘To know what you know and to know what you do not know, that is true knowledge’ as: ‘If you know, then you know; if you don’t know, pretend you do, so others think you’re profound and all-knowing—that’s true wisdom’?! You tell me—how is pretending to understand and putting on airs considered great wisdom?!”

Even Xiao Jin, known for being a top-tier slacker, felt that this interpretation was way too absurd. “I…”

“And this next part!” Qiao Bailian’s face was flushed red with rage, veins bulging as he shouted, “Your annotation of ‘Great wisdom appears foolish’ says that truly smart people are basically fools, and it’s better to just be a fool because it’s easier and more convenient. Have all your years of study gone to the dogs?! You actually wrote this nonsense—utter gibberish and arrogant drivel! This is outright defiance of your teachers! Do you think just because your father is far away in the capital, no one can discipline you?!”

“One big pile of dog crap!” Qiao Bailian slammed the table repeatedly, summarizing his opinion of the essay.

Xiao Jin found the phrase oddly familiar, but he didn’t have time to think about where he’d heard it before. He was being scolded so harshly that his ears were ringing. When he finally left the Reflection Room, the lunch break was already over.

He clutched the paper tightly in his hand, rage burning in his handsome features. With a murderous look, he ground out three words through clenched teeth:
“Lu. Shu. Jin!”

He stormed toward Jiazi Hall like a thundercloud. People could feel his fury from ten paces away and quickly stepped aside, afraid to get caught in his wrath.

Xiao Jin reached Jiazi Hall and kicked open the half-closed door with a loud bang. He stood at the entrance like a wrathful god, and the entire room fell silent in an instant.

“Where’s Lu Shujin?” he demanded, scanning the room.

No one dared speak. All eyes turned to Wu Chengyun.

Xiao Jin’s icy gaze pierced through the room and landed on Wu Chengyun, who felt a chill run down his spine. That look felt like a blade stabbing into him. Panicked, he blurted out without thinking, “He went to Baili Pond.”

Earlier, when class ended, Lu Shujin hadn’t gone to Baili Pond right away.

Every morning, she met Liu Quan at Baili Pond to hand over the essays she had written the night before. The pond was far from the dorms, and no one usually came by in the morning. Plus, the rock formations by the shore made it a very secluded spot.

But this morning, Lu Shujin hadn’t shown up. Liu Quan, not finding her, would likely go to Jiazi Hall at noon to look for her. So Lu Shujin had run off right after class, knowing he’d come back to Baili Pond again.

She was now hiding on the reverse slope beside the pond, quietly waiting.

Everything had gone as she predicted—except for one thing.

Liu Quan didn’t go to Jiazi Hall himself. Instead, he casually sent someone else. He himself had brought a few young noblemen and a boy to the rock formations by the pond.

Lu Shujin recognized the boy—his name was Liang Chunyan. He was the last underprivileged student admitted to the academy and was in the same class, Jiazi Hall, as Lu Shujin. However, their seats were far apart, and since she wasn’t one to socialize, she had never spoken to him.

After being brought to the rock garden, Liang Chunyan was surrounded by Liu Quan and several others and beaten without warning.

From her hiding spot on the reverse slope, Lu Shujin watched everything clearly, using a large tree as cover. The young men showed no restraint. After a brutal beating, Liang Chunyan collapsed to the ground. Every time he tried to get up, Liu Quan would kick the back of his knees, forcing him to kneel and fall again.

The sight made Lu Shujin feel deeply uncomfortable. A wave of nausea and fury surged within her, and her fingertips trembled with anger.

Liu Quan was a habitual bully who preyed on the weak. This wasn’t his first time. Backed by wealth and some political connections, even if he seriously injured someone, his family could smooth things over, allowing him to act with impunity.

Lu Shujin watched coldly, controlling her breathing. She knew now was not the time to act rashly—she had to wait.

Fifteen minutes later, she saw a figure in dark gold robes appear on the path near Baili Pond. She stepped forward for a better look.

The man’s long robe fluttered, his hair whipped in the wind, and he clutched a sheet of paper in his hand. His handsome face was twisted with fury as he strode forward, glancing around as if searching for someone.

It was Xiao Jin—still fuming from the scolding he had just received, his mind filled with one thought: Where is Lu Shujin?

Lu Shujin had never been so eager for Xiao Jin to appear. She descended the slope and quickly made her way toward the rock garden.

At that moment, Liu Quan had his foot pressed against the back of Liang Chunyan’s head, grinding his face into the dirt. He laughed wildly, “Come on, get up and act tough again! What are you doing groveling on the ground?”

The others joined in, laughing and jeering, their mouths full of vulgar insults.

“Brother Liu,” Lu Shujin’s voice rang out clearly as she stepped out from behind the rocks, interrupting the assault.

All traces of anger and coldness vanished from her expression. Her eyes were calm and clear, like ink-dark pools, her demeanor serene and composed—like the moon above the clouds, or a pearl from the sea.

“I have something to discuss with you. May I have a word in private?” she asked.

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