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He must be in pain. She raised her hand, softly knocking twice on the door. There was no response for a long time but she stubbornly kept knocking.

Teacher Yu slowly raised his head and looked at the little scholar standing beside the door. "Teacher Ji, is something the matter?" That voice carried the powerlessness against the vicissitudes of life and unutterable sadness.

Ji Yunshu stepped forward and bowed. After that, she stated, "This one knows Teacher is sad about Guo He’s death. I do not mean to continue prodding at Teacher’s sore spots but I would still like to understand more about the situation."

Teacher Yu seemed resigned. "As long as the real murderer can be found, you can ask whatever you like."

"I want to borrow a copy of Guo He’s writings before his death."

"For?"

"To resolve the questions in my heart."

Since she had already explained, Teacher Yu did not ask further. He got up and went into the inner room. When he came out, he held Guo He’s essays in his hand. He passed them over to Ji Yunshu. "There’s more. If you like, I can get the rest."

"I don’t need them right now. I just want to take a look."

She opened the thick bundle of writings. She swept her eyes over the pages like a scanner, flipping through the stack rapidly. When she turned to a page, her movement stopped and her mouth turned up quietly. Then she turned again and stopped on one of the pages. Over and over again, in a short while, she flipped through the rest of the pages. The atmosphere suddenly seemed relaxed.

"Thank you, teacher." She returned the writings.

Teacher Yu was dumbfounded and confused. He thought, what snake oil medicine is Teacher Ji selling? If she wants to investigate, then investigate. If she wants to read books, she can go to the Confucian hall. Why does she want to flip through such ordinary exercise books?

So he asked, "Is there anything related to Guo He in the writings?"

She nodded. "I have a general idea, but there is something I want to know. Can teacher please tell me when Guo He was alive, did he use his left hand to write? Or his right?"

"Hmm? Why are you asking this?"

"This concerns his death."

Teacher Yu quickly answered, "Right hand."

"Then, is it possible that he can to use his left hand to write but Teacher is unaware?"

"I have never seen him use his left hand to write. It’s not possible. I watched him grow up. If he used his left hand to write, why would I be unaware?"

Teacher Ji came back again just after leaving. Although it’s for the case, how could he ask such a nonsensical question after reading Guo He’s writing? Truly unfathomable!

Afterwards, she continued to ask, "Then, in the academy, does anyone use their left hand to write?"

"No one."

Are you sure?! Ji Yunshu’s heart seemed to have an answer. A mysterious, unfathomable smile hung on the corner of her mouth.

Teacher Yu took a small step forward and asked, "Why would Teacher Ji suddenly ask about this?"

"It’s not sudden!" she replied. "It’s because it concerns Guo He’s death. Therefore, there’s some stubbornness on my part. I hope Teacher won’t take offence."

"How is the difference between writing with the left hand or right hand related to his death?"

She raised her clear, unfathomable eyes, slightly wrinkled her delicate brow, and explained, "Because I feel that the letter left by Guo He before he died, was in fact not written by him."

Eh? Where did such a notion come from? Teacher Yu’s complexion paled in obvious shock. The lips under the white beard trembled for a moment and he questioned, "It wasn’t written by him? But the handwriting is clearly his. It can’t be wrong."

"It can’t be wrong?" She was deeply amused by his words and laughed silently. "Has Teacher Yu heard of these three phrases? Chaos dreams of being silk, to land soundlessly, after mixing with the rain [1]."

Roughly speaking, it talks about how when the fine threads of silk are mixed with rainwater coming down from the skies above, there would not be the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the ground; in other words, it’s smoke and mirrors [2]; in plain speak, it means using falsehoods to confuse the truth and deceive the audience.

Teacher Yu’s wrinkled brow creased further as he solemnly spoke, "You can say it directly."

"I would like Teacher to let me see the letter Guo He left behind."

He retrieved it without hesitation and handed it over.

Ji Yunshu carefully opened the letter. The few words on the paper leapt out at her:

The benevolence of my education cannot be repaid. My heart does not belong to the Academy and wishes to fly back home. Farewell.

Her eyes focused on one of the words - ’back’.

"Even if the person who wrote this letter imitates the handwriting, it will eventually show its flaws," she said. The smile on the corner of her lips deepened.

Teacher Yu didn’t discover the clue and thought the letter was left behind by Guo He. "The letter isn’t abnormal. I watch him write for at least ten years. I can’t be mistaken. Even if someone else wrote it, who’s capable of writing the same way as him?"

She didn’t rush to answer. She looked around the room. At last, her eyes fell onto a calligraphy painting hanging on the wall. She walked closer to stand under the painting and looked up.

"This Zhang Zhizhang’s "Bamboo Forest", the real work is collected in the Imperial Palace, and this, although it is a reproduction, is more lifelike than the real work. The bamboos also appear less arrogant and lofty than in the real work, which is more pleasing to the eye." Her gaze landed on the seal at the edge of the painting. She couldn’t help but exclaim in admiration, "That genius copyist of calligraphy painter, young master Shang, really makes people admire him. That "A Hundred Birds Facing the Phoenix" painting as well this "Bamboo Forest" painting; in his hands, there practically aren’t any mistakes or blemishes. Utterly invigorating."

She truly admired Shang Zhuo. The person’s copying ability could be compared with a modern copier.

Even a photocopier was not as good as him. After all, if there were any shortage or leakage of the ink, the printed calligraphy painting would either have missing or extraneous bits.

However, why would she mention Shang Zhuo’s paintings without any rhyme or reason? Can we return back to the main point? We’re talking about Guo He’s death.

But her words suddenly woke up Teacher Yu’s muddled old head. He gave a start of surprise. "You’re saying... Shang Zhuo?"

[1] Anyone noticed I managed to make this a haiku? xDD Original text was: 乱物幻成丝，以雨而滂混，着落却无声

[2] Originally an idiom, so tried to preserve that quality. 混淆视听