Friday afternoon, piano classroom.
Mu Suihe sat listlessly at a piano, her right index finger lazily poking at the keys.
The same note, once, then again.
She didn’t like the piano.
The black-and-white keys were too rigid, too loud and impassioned.
She still preferred the guzheng.
When her fingertips landed on the silk strings, tender and restrained, all the unspoken emotions hidden inside her could find expression.
But the two Shen sisters forbade her from touching any stringed instruments outside.
They were afraid that if she played too well, experts would see through the deception.
She looked down at the time on her phone—twenty minutes until Advanced Math class.
Mu Suihe rose from the piano bench, stuffed her Advanced Math textbook into her canvas bag, walked to the door, and pulled it open.
Shen Jinxin stood outside, with two familiar Shen Family servants behind her.
“Hand over your phone.” Shen Jinxin extended her hand.
Mu Suihe hid the phone behind her back.
Shen Jinxin grabbed her wrist, snatched the phone, threw it on the floor, then shoved her back inside.
Mu Suihe staggered back two steps.
The door closed, then was locked from the outside.
“Little sister.” Shen Jinxin’s voice came through the door.
“You made a public fool of yourself in Advanced Math class last time. Ninth Master probably won’t want to see you.”
“You can reflect on your behavior in there.”
“Oh, right—Advanced Math is the last class this afternoon, and tomorrow’s the weekend. I’m afraid you’ll have to suffer staying in this piano room for two whole days.”
Mu Suihe threw herself against the door, pounding on it hard twice: “Shen Jinxin, being locked in here for two days could kill someone.”
“If something happens to me, your pipa…”
Shen Jinxin’s voice turned sharply shrill, then dropped low. “Shut up!”
“If you dare breathe a single word of it outside, I’ll make your life a living hell.”
“It’s only two days. You won’t starve to death. I’ll let you out on Monday, naturally.”
Footsteps faded away, and the corridor returned to silence.
Mu Suihe slid down against the door until she sat on the floor, slowly curling up her knees.
Her canvas bag had fallen to the ground two steps away, the Advanced Math textbook spilling out at one corner.
She looked at the textbook, and Lu Yuzhi’s face popped into her mind.
Last time she drew Peppa Pig in his class; this time, without even a word of notice, she was skipping class entirely.
She was probably adding another bad impression to his mind.
She buried her head in her knees, the curve of her nape soft and delicate.
Advanced Math class. Lu Yuzhi stood at the podium, the seats below filled to capacity.
The young masters and young ladies who were usually so careless all sat with their backs ramrod straight as ever.
The man’s gaze swept across the classroom. In the back rows, the seat where she usually sat was empty.
Mu Suihe hadn’t come.
He opened his lesson plan and began lecturing on today’s material in a flat voice.
Partial derivatives. Multivariable calculus.
Chalk wrote out line after line of formulas on the blackboard, his strokes sharp and forceful.
Halfway through the lecture, he suddenly stopped.
Every student below held their breath, not knowing what had happened.
Lu Yuzhi stared at the formula he’d written wrong on the blackboard, silent for a few seconds, then raised his hand and erased the line he’d just written.
He rewrote it, pressing harder with the chalk this time. “Here, it should be like this.”
Meng Wantang, sitting in the front row, sneakily glanced at her phone. The sisters’ group chat had already exploded.
“Did Ninth Master just zone out?”
“First time I’ve ever seen him write a formula wrong.”
“He seems a bit distracted today.”
Meng Wantang looked up toward the podium.
Lu Yuzhi was writing out an example problem with his back to the class, shoulders straight, the fabric of his shirt wrapping around his lean waist.
He was the man she wanted to long for, but didn’t dare to.
Or was it her imagination? His gaze seemed to flick toward that empty seat in the back row more than once.
And last time he asked a question, the first time he’d ever stepped down from the podium, he had walked straight to Mu Suihe’s side.
Meng Wantang’s heart lurched. It was hard to imagine—two people from such different worlds. Could it really be possible?
Over the entire class, few people actually absorbed what Lu Yuzhi was teaching.
Everyone had noticed that the Ninth Master was off today.
He spoke faster than usual, sometimes pausing, sometimes sounding impatient.
When the bell rang, Lu Yuzhi picked up his lesson notes and left.
He walked through the corridor, past the floor-to-ceiling windows of the main building’s lobby. Outside, it had started raining again.
He realized he had no idea where to even look for her.
Apart from her name, he knew nothing about her.
He didn’t know which practice room she usually used, didn’t know how many classes she had besides Advanced Mathematics.
In the corridor, Jiang Lin was already waiting by the door. Seeing him come out, he immediately fell into step.
“Mr. Lu, the car is downstairs.”
Lu Yuzhi didn’t respond. He stopped and said, “Go to the academic affairs office. Look up the contact information for Mu Suihe in the Arts Department.”
Jiang Lin froze. “Mu Suihe?”
Lu Yuzhi shot him a glance.
Jiang Lin immediately lowered his head. “Right away.”
A few minutes later, he sent over a phone number.
Lu Yuzhi took out his own phone and dialed.
In the piano room, Mu Suihe heard the ringtone. She lifted her head from her knees and lunged at the door.
Someone was calling. Who would call her?
Song Shiqian? Impossible—he must still be misunderstanding her, hating her right now.
Shen Jinxin? Even less possible.
The phone vibrated for a while, then stopped.
A few minutes later, it vibrated again, then stopped again.
She slid back down against the door to the floor, burying her face between her knees.
What good was calling? She couldn’t answer.
Lu Yuzhi frowned, hung up, and dialed again.
Still no answer.
He stared at the phone screen, his eyes darkening.
Zoning out in class was one thing, but now she was actually skipping class and not answering her phone.
Such a little thing, picking up all sorts of bad habits.
“To the Arts Building.” He put away his phone and turned in the other direction.
Jiang Lin hurried after him. “Mr. Lu, your afternoon meeting has been pushed to this evening—it’s almost time…”
“Push it back again.”
“…”
The Arts Building wasn’t far from the main building—just a walk through a grove of phoenix trees.
Lu Yuzhi walked fast.
Jiang Lin followed behind him, his heart pounding.
He’d been with the Ninth Master all these years and had never seen him like this over anyone.
And a young girl, at that.