Through the open doors, the main room of Huantao Pavilion was fully visible. It was a study designed for reading and writing, with a simple, square layout consisting of three rooms. In the center of the main room, facing the door, stood a desk and chair. Behind the desk hung a landscape painting, with windows on either side. The east and west walls were lined with shelves filled with books, connecting to two inner rooms – a bedroom to the east and a sitting room to the west.
From outside, one could see a person slumped over the desk.
Ming Shu’s words were truly shocking.
Lu Chang, standing at the front with Lu Wenhan, reacted the fastest. Before others could respond, he rushed up the stone steps to Ming Shu’s side, placing a hand on her head and asking in a low voice, “Are you alright?”
Song Qingzhao followed closely behind, glancing at Ming Shu before rushing inside.
Ming Shu’s mind was buzzing. Despite her efforts to stay calm, her heart raced. Footsteps sounded all around as her brother, Song Qingzhao, and the Third Prince’s attendants arrived. She was still dazed from discovering the body.
The feeling was different from fear. She had seen death before, during the night they fought mountain bandits. Then, despite her fear, her mind had remained clear. But this was different.
She had just… walked through pools of blood to check if Yang Zishu was alive, reaching out to feel for his breath.
It was her first time being so close to a dead person.
“Ming Shu?” Lu Chang ignored the chaos around them, gently stroking her head.
His thumb caressed her temple, warm and comforting.
“Brother, Yang Zishu is dead,” she said, her emotions gradually calming under his touch.
“Are you scared?” he asked.
Ming Shu shook her head. “Not with you here, brother.” She smiled and took a deep breath.
Just like that snowy night when danger lurked nearby, she felt safe with him holding her hand.
Her thoughts began to clear.
“Do you want to go inside and look?” Lu Chang glanced casually into the room. “If not, we can leave. If you do, I’ll go with you.”
Ming Shu nodded. “I want to go in.” With that, she turned resolutely.
Many people had already rushed into the room, including Song Qingzhao, Headmaster Xu Yan, and several armed guards, all examining the scene.
The room wasn’t in disarray. Everything was as Ming Shu had seen it yesterday when she checked with Madam He, except for the desk. Originally, it held writing implements and a prized calligraphy piece held down by a paperweight. Now, the calligraphy was missing, the paperweight moved to a corner, and a sheet of paper with a seven-character quatrain lay in the center. Yang Zishu was slumped over this poem, his blood soaking through the paper and dripping onto the floor.
Ming Shu saw his face.
His expression was contorted, eyes wide open and staring at the door. One hand clutched his neck, the other stretched across the desk towards the entrance.
A guard stepped forward to examine him, moving the hand from his neck.
A sleeve arrow, thinner than a little finger, was lodged in the side of his neck, almost entirely buried in the flesh. Blood had gushed from the wound, spreading everywhere in a horrifying sight.
A murder at the century-old academy, on the very day the Third Prince and the Minister of Rites visited, challenged the prince’s authority. Recently entrusted with overseeing the imperial examinations, he now faced a student’s death under his watch before the exams even began.
The Third Prince’s jovial demeanor turned murderous. Despite his youth, his royal bearing intimidated everyone present, especially now in his thunderous anger.
Headmaster Xu Yan, sweating profusely, had never faced such a crisis in his decade-long tenure. He barely composed himself before suggesting the prince wait in Chongming Hall.
“Unnecessary!” Prince Zhao Jingran coldly declared, intent on personally overseeing the investigation.
Lu Wenhan signaled an attendant, who quickly brought chairs for the prince and himself.
“Your Highness, Songling Academy falls under Bianjing Prefecture’s jurisdiction. I’ve sent someone to report this,” Lu Wenhan informed the prince.
“The journey to the capital takes nearly a day. We’ll investigate first; I’ll take responsibility,” Zhao Jingran decided firmly.
Soon, a guard reported their findings: “Your Highness, Lord Lu, the victim is Yang Zishu, a Songling Academy student. It appears to be murder by sleeve arrow. Here’s the weapon.” He presented a blood-stained arrow. “The body is still warm, muscles not yet stiff, blood not coagulated. Death occurred recently, likely within the past hour, but the coroner will confirm.”
The prince examined the weapon and nodded.
As others emerged from the room, Zhao Jingran asked, “Qingzhao, what did you observe?”
Song Qingzhao bowed and replied, “Your Highness, Huantao Pavilion has only one front door, which was locked. The killer likely shot through the only open window of the three rooms.”
“Lu Chang, your thoughts?” Lu Wenhan inquired.
Standing behind Song Qingzhao with Ming Shu, Lu Chang bowed and said, “I agree with Brother Song. If Yang Zishu died within the hour, it happened while we were in Chongming Hall. Today is a significant day, and all faculty and students should have been present. Perhaps we should investigate anyone unaccounted for during this time.”
His words alerted Zhao Jingran, who ordered, “Have all students remain seated. Qingzhao, help the headmaster account for everyone’s whereabouts. Bring anyone suspicious for questioning.”
Ming Shu glanced at Madam He, who looked faint, supported by Madam Lin.
As Zhao Jingran began to assign a task to Lu Chang, Ming Shu interjected, “Your Highness, perhaps we could search for the arrow quiver. The killer likely didn’t have time to dispose of it properly. It might be in the bamboo grove behind Huantao Pavilion.”
She produced a small notebook with a layout of the academy.
“You were the first to enter the crime scene?” Zhao Jingran asked.
“Yes, Your Highness. I was assisting Madam He today and was sent to open the pavilion doors. I touched nothing inside and have reported everything I saw to your guards,” Ming Shu explained clearly, establishing her alibi.
Impressed by her composure, Zhao Jingran studied her. Lu Wenhan asked, “Young lady, aren’t you afraid?”
“I am, my lord. See, my hands are shaking,” Ming Shu demonstrated, raising her trembling notebook.
Amused, Lu Wenhan smiled, “If you’re scared, why investigate?”
“Perhaps I’m too curious,” Ming Shu admitted honestly.
Charmed by her mix of honesty and wit, Lu Wenhan asked, “What’s your name, young lady?”
“Ming Shu… Lu Ming Shu,” she replied, glancing at Lu Chang.
Lu Chang added, “Your Highness, Lord Lu, this is my sister. She’s helping due to the academy’s staff shortage. Please forgive any impropriety; she’s quite lively.”
“So she’s your sister. Ming Shu, is it? Someone, bring her some warm tea,” Lu Wenhan instructed, then added kindly to Ming Shu, “Warm your hands before you join your brother in the investigation.”
Ming Shu found Lu Wenhan’s gaze oddly paternal and peculiar.
—
Prince Zhao Jingran issued several more orders. Besides investigating everyone’s whereabouts and alibis, he also demanded inquiries into Yang Zishu’s character, his close associates, and his recent activities.
Song Qingzhao was tasked with verifying the academy staff’s whereabouts, Headmaster Xu with accounting for the students, and Madam He with checking on the support staff.
Ming Shu accompanied Lu Chang, along with two of the prince’s guards, to search for clues behind Huantao Pavilion.
The student body, totaling seventy-three, was quickly accounted for as they had all been with the prince and Lu Wenhan. However, three were absent.
Besides the deceased Yang Zishu, Tang Li claimed illness, and Xie Xi was under house arrest, unable to attend the day’s events. These two were soon brought before the prince.
Meanwhile, Ming Shu, Lu Chang, and the two guards conducted a thorough search in the grove behind Huantao Pavilion.
Working in pairs and bending low, they searched in different directions. As Ming Shu looked for clues, she chatted with Lu Chang nearby: “Brother, I find Lord Lu strange.”
“Oh? How so?” Lu Chang asked, still searching intently.
“I can’t quite explain it, but the way he looks at us is odd. He shares our surname. Brother, do you think our father might have some unknown background, a long-lost brother perhaps? It’s always like that in stories! Could we have an uncle we’ve never met, who left home young and became a high official?”
Lu Chang was bemused by her wild imagination: “You should ask Mother about that.”
His only impression of his father was the memorial tablet at home, nothing more.
Ming Shu giggled, then suddenly exclaimed, “Oh!”
Lu Chang turned, “What is it?”
“Brother, come look,” Ming Shu crouched down, pointing at something in the grass.
Lu Chang quickly joined her, asking, “Do you have a handkerchief?”
Ming Shu handed him her plain handkerchief. He wrapped it around his hand and picked up the object from the ground.
It was a golden arrow quiver, about six inches long.