Chapter 10: Starting Today, I Am A Student Of Jiazi Hall

It was a rest day again. Lu Shujin got up early and changed into a light bluish-lavender cloth robe. The sleeves were tied with silk ribbons, outlining her slender arms. The outfit was light and practical. She tied up her long hair with a dark ribbon. Her shoes were too big, so she stuffed them with hemp cloth to make them fit. She wore no extra accessories—clean and neat, looking just like a refined young scholar.

She took out a small box, retrieved two small silver ingots, then hesitated and added two more. Wrapping the box in burlap, she hid it behind the chest under her bed before heading out.

The sky was already bright. Lu Shujin hailed a rickshaw by the roadside and hurried back to Changqing Alley. Her steps quickened as she entered the courtyard and ran into Aunt Miao, who was carrying water.

Seeing Lu Shujin, Aunt Miao quickly set down the bucket and rushed over, anxious. “Shujin, thank goodness you’re back. Peier hasn’t come home for days. My husband won’t let me get involved, and I have no one else to turn to. I was hoping you’d come back and help figure something out.”

Lu Shujin’s heart sank. She immediately entered the courtyard and headed straight for Peier’s room, only to find a lock hanging on the door.

Seeing this, Aunt Miao hurried to her own room and returned with a key, whispering, “I locked it. There are too many people in this courtyard, and I was afraid someone might sneak in and steal things while Peier’s away.”

Lu Shujin opened the door and stepped inside, scanning the room.

She had an excellent memory. With just a glance, she could tell that nothing had changed—it looked exactly as it had during her last visit on a rest day. Peier had been gone for seven days.

“I’m going to the constable’s office,” Lu Shujin decided immediately.

Aunt Miao still had chores to do—laundry, cooking, and caring for the children—so Lu Shujin went alone.

It was early morning, and only two officers were on duty at the constable’s office. They were dozing at the desk and barely glanced at her when she knocked and entered.

“Sirs, my elder sister hasn’t returned home in seven days. I reported it earlier—may I ask if there have been any leads?” Lu Shujin asked politely. From their demeanor, she already suspected the report had gone nowhere, but she still held onto a sliver of hope.

Sure enough, one of the constables replied impatiently, “Every case is recorded in its own file. If there’s a lead, we’ll investigate. It’s not your place to ask.”

Lu Shujin thought for a moment, then took a small silver ingot from her pouch and placed it on the table with a crisp clink. She spoke softly, “Please, sirs, have mercy. I only have one sister. She hasn’t come home in days, and I’m terribly worried.”

The two constables immediately perked up at the sound. Their eyes lit up when they saw the silver. Smiling, they stood and picked up the ingot, weighing it in their hands. “Little brother, cases of missing outsiders have been happening for over half a year now. They’re not something that can be solved quickly.”

“Then where should I go to find my sister?” Lu Shujin’s heart tightened.

The constable shook his head, glanced around, then leaned in and whispered, “Let me give you a tip—this isn’t something you can handle. Just go home.”

Lu Shujin was suddenly filled with anger. She couldn’t understand how they could speak so casually—this wasn’t a missing chicken or pig, but a living person. Yet the constable’s words clearly implied she should give up.

Or perhaps… this wasn’t a simple missing person case at all.

Suppressing her fury, she realized that even if she threw all her silver at them, she wouldn’t get any useful information. So she turned and left in long strides.

She headed to the embroidery workshop where Peier worked. The head seamstress, a middle-aged woman, saw the fair and delicate Lu Shujin through the window and put down her needlework to come out and tease her.

“Young master, are you here looking for your wife?”

Lu Shujin’s gentle and well-mannered appearance was very deceptive—exactly the kind of child elders liked. She feigned worry and said, “Auntie, my elder sister Peier worked here, but she suddenly disappeared seven days ago. I’ve searched everywhere and could only come here to ask. I hope you can help.”

As she spoke, she took out a silver ingot. The head seamstress’s eyes lit up, and she happily accepted it, replying, “Of course! That girl Peier stopped coming about six or seven days ago. She didn’t ask for leave either. She didn’t even collect her wages from last month. I thought she must’ve had something urgent come up.”

“Did she say anything before she stopped coming?”

“No. That girl was clever and quiet, very honest and kind,” the woman said thoughtfully. “But now that you mention it, she did seem a bit troubled those last few days, like something was weighing on her. When others asked, she just said it was nothing.”

Lu Shujin asked, “Was there anything else unusual?”

The forewoman, having accepted the silver, naturally wanted to be helpful. She furrowed her brow and thought hard for a moment before shaking her head. “That’s really all I know. Your brother-in-law used to come by often to drop her off for work and pick her up afterward. He watched her so closely—how could she have gone missing?”

“Brother-in-law?” Lu Shujin asked in surprise. “What does he look like?”

The forewoman was also puzzled. “He’s tall, with dark, sun-weathered skin. Not exactly ugly—he looks honest and simple.”

Lu Shujin’s heart stirred. She pointed to the left corner of her mouth. “Does he have a scar here?”

The forewoman nodded immediately. “Yes, that’s right.”

There was nothing more to be learned, so Lu Shujin returned to the courtyard. As soon as she entered, she called for Aunt Miao.

Aunt Miao came out of the house in a hurry. “Well? Any news of Peier?”

Lu Shujin shook her head and pulled her under the eaves, asking in a low voice, “Aunt Miao, has there been a man with a scar at the corner of his mouth who was close to Sister Peier?”

Aunt Miao immediately pulled her into the house and shut the windows. “That man used to stay in Peier’s room. They’d leave together early in the morning and come back late at night. I don’t know what he did, but ever since Peier disappeared, he hasn’t shown up again.”

Lu Shujin thought to herself that no wonder she had never seen the man. Peier always left early for work at the embroidery shop—before dawn—and by the time Lu Shujin woke up, she was already gone. The man came and went at odd hours, so even though they lived in the same courtyard, it was normal not to have crossed paths.

But he had been very close to Peier, and now that she had gone missing, he hadn’t returned. Clearly, he was involved.

After a moment of thought, Lu Shujin got up to leave. Before going, she told Aunt Miao to keep Peier’s room locked.

After leaving the courtyard, she followed her original plan: buying bedding and two new sets of clothes, then carefully selecting some decent-quality writing supplies. Most of her silver was now spent.

Back at her dormitory at Haizhou Academy, she brought everything inside but didn’t start organizing right away. Instead, she took out the handkerchief Peier had given her on the first day of class. Running her fingers over it, she immediately noticed something subtly unusual.

While talking with Aunt Miao earlier, she had suddenly recalled Peier’s odd behavior that day.

Peier had given her a handkerchief, but it was embroidered with brightly colored magpies and apricot blossoms—too vivid and feminine to be suitable for a man. So Lu Shujin had never used it, simply storing it in her chest.

But now, thinking back, it was likely intentional. That day, Peier had even mentioned the recent disappearances of outsiders—clearly trying to hint at something.

Lu Shujin quickly took a pair of scissors and carefully unstitched the handkerchief along the seams. As she suspected, it was made of two layers sewn together, with a thin piece of silk cloth hidden inside. On it, in a deep, blood-red stain, was a single, broken character: “救”—“Help.”

Peier was asking for help!

Lu Shujin’s heart clenched. She gripped the handkerchief tightly, her fingertips turning white from the force. She was filled with regret—why hadn’t she noticed Peier’s strange behavior earlier? Why hadn’t she understood the hint? It had taken her this long to realize it.

Seven days had already passed. Where was Peier now? What was her condition? Was she even safe? To find her, Lu Shujin knew she had to first locate the man with the scar at the corner of his mouth.

She allowed herself a moment of frustration, but quickly pushed it aside. Now wasn’t the time for self-blame. She immediately took out her writing tools, pulled a sheet of paper, and began trying to sketch the man’s face from memory.

Her memory was excellent, and she learned quickly—but her drawing skills were average. She spent the entire afternoon, going through dozens of sheets, before finally producing one that bore about a seventy percent resemblance to the man.

She let out a breath, forehead damp with sweat, and only then realized she hadn’t eaten all day. Her fingers were trembling from hunger.

After resting a bit, she went out to eat. Once she regained some strength, she returned to her dorm, organized the items she had bought, and lay down on her soft bed. But her heart was heavy, and she tossed and turned late into the night, unable to sleep, worrying about Peier.

When the rest day ended, classes resumed at Haizhou Academy. The students were still buzzing with gossip about Liu Quan and Liang Chunyan.

The rumors spread quickly. By the time they reached Lu Shujin’s ears, the story had become: Liu Quan had fallen from a rocky slope and broken his right arm. Supposedly, this version came from Liu Quan himself.

As someone who knew the truth, Lu Shujin could only marvel at the power of the Xiao family in Yuncheng. Liu Quan’s granduncle might be the Assistant Magistrate of Yun Prefecture, but even a pampered young master like Liu Quan, after having his arm crippled, could only claim he fell on his own. Xiao Jin’s name wasn’t mentioned at all.

Everyone else was still in the dark, truly believing Liu Quan had just had a streak of bad luck.

As for what happened to Liang Chunyan—almost no one paid attention.

Lu Shujin wasn’t interested in any of it either. When Wu Chengyun chattered beside her, she responded absentmindedly, her mind entirely focused on going to Dingzi Hall after class to look for someone.

After an hour of lessons, there was a fifteen-minute break. During this time, students could leave their seats to use the restroom or ask the teacher questions, so the classroom became a bit noisy.

Lu Shujin slumped over her desk like a wilted eggplant, too distracted to study. Her worry for Peier lingered heavily in her heart.

Wu Chengyun leaned over to talk to her, subtly trying to probe about why Xiao Jin had stormed in looking for her the other day.

Not wanting to talk, Lu Shujin simply turned her head and closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. Wu Chengyun, lacking awareness, kept talking to the back of her head.

She pretended not to hear. After a while, Wu Chengyun finally seemed to tire and fell silent.

But then Lu Shujin noticed something strange—no bell had rung to signal the end of the break, yet the entire classroom had gone eerily quiet.

She quickly sat up and looked toward the teacher, but out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of someone. Turning her head, she saw Xiao Jin standing beside Wu Chengyun’s desk.

He must have just arrived. He still had a candy stick in his mouth and casually dropped a few books onto Wu Chengyun’s desk, then tilted his chin at him. “I’m sitting here.”

Everyone in the classroom was staring at him, including Lu Shujin, who was stunned. No one knew why this young master had suddenly brought his books and come to Jiazi Hall.

“Xiao Jin, this is Jiazi Hall. You’re not enrolled here,” the teacher said sternly, breaking the silence.

Xiao Jin turned his head, the candy still in his mouth. Even standing upright, he exuded a lazy, unruly air. With a half-smile, he replied, “Thank you for the reminder, sir. But starting today, I’m a student of Jiazi Hall. I’ve already reported it to Dean Qiao.”

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