Chapter Seventy-One: The Three Noble Houses

The progression of the story was not complicated, though the relationships between the characters were somewhat melodramatic.

The Women’s Mutual Aid Society was an online chat group, active across the internet. Within it were professional legal experts providing guidance, social activists adept at advocacy who would show up in person to help victims, skilled writers and media operators orchestrating public opinion offensives against perpetrators, and countless women who, having once been helped themselves, now lent support and encouragement to new sisters seeking aid.

After all, in cases of harassment, the greatest obstacle to defending one’s rights often lay in the victim’s own reluctance to make the matter public, wishing only for the perpetrator to cease the harassment. Thus, someone was needed to gently push them forward from behind.

Seiko Takano was the group’s founder, elder, and spiritual core—yet she was not the most active member. It was well known that, no matter how much you contributed to any group, someone else would always be even more prolific. Besides, as a lawyer, she was perpetually busy and could not monitor the group around the clock, so she appointed several moderators, enthusiastic netizens who assisted with management.

This particular incident unfolded without Seiko Takano’s knowledge:

A female student from North Sea University reached out for help, claiming she had been surreptitiously photographed under her skirt by a male classmate, with two close friends willing to testify on her behalf. Two moderators from the group volunteered to go offline to the university, and after understanding the situation from the victim, brought her and the witnesses to see the school authorities.

The university took the matter seriously, immediately summoning the accused student to the principal’s office and demanding he reveal the photos on his phone. The young man refused passionately, questioning what right the school had to require him to expose his phone’s contents.

Their argument grew so heated that by the end of the day, rumors had already spread throughout the faculty: a law student had used his phone to take indecent photos under a female classmate’s skirt.

What happened afterward was unknown. But that very night, the young man leapt from the fifth-floor balcony of his dormitory.

Because surveillance cameras clearly captured the moment he jumped, and no roommates were present at the time, the First Investigation Division of the North Sea District Public Security quickly conducted a preliminary inquiry and ruled out the possibility of homicide.

“Ms. Takano,” Chen Ziang said patiently, “I haven’t personally investigated the scene, but based on what you’ve told me, the likelihood of your son’s suicide is very high. Are you questioning the North Sea District Public Security’s findings?”

“No.” Seiko Takano shook her head, her voice heavy with grief. “I mean their conclusion was too hasty.”

“Masao was always a deeply responsible person. He admired my profession from a young age, dreamed of becoming a lawyer himself, and hoped to uphold procedural justice through the law. I raised him for twenty years; I know how steadfast he was. To become a lawyer, he devoted himself entirely to his studies, never dated, served as a core member of his school’s debate team throughout middle and high school, and finally was admitted to the law faculty at North Sea University. He even interned at our law firm during his summer break… How could such a child, such a righteous Masao, knowingly break the law and commit such a vile act?!”

Realizing her outburst, she quickly regained her composure, though her eyes were bloodshot as she continued, “Procedurally speaking, the North Sea District Public Security’s conclusion of suicide is not in error. But as a mother, I cannot accept that the cause of Masao’s death should be dismissed as a pale, powerless ‘suicide’!”

“I approached the district public security, but they said these issues were irrelevant to the case. I went to the university administration, but they insisted no one had mistreated Masao, and they refused even to disclose the victim’s identity. And the two moderators from the group, upon learning Masao was my son, quickly left the group and disappeared.”

“Mr. Chen, I would like to entrust the Far North City Public Security with uncovering the truth: Did he really take those photos? What happened in the principal’s office? What occurred after he returned to the dormitory? What drove him to such utter despair that he would leap from that fifth-floor balcony...?”

By the end, Seiko Takano was sobbing uncontrollably, covering her face with her hands, her body bowed in devastation.

Chen Ziang and Suzuna Tsukimi hurried to comfort her, exchanging troubled glances. The incident had occurred in the North Sea District, and as an officer of Far North City Public Security, Chen Ziang had no jurisdiction there—he wasn’t even from the criminal investigation division.

Even so, the principle was clear: cases should be handled by the authorities of their own district. Seiko Takano was surely aware of this; she was merely seizing whatever hope remained, seeing if he might have connections that could help.

So Chen Ziang offered a few words of consolation, promising to ask around and let her know if there were any developments.

He wanted to escort this pitiful mother to a nearby café to rest, but Seiko Takano only thanked him profusely, then departed with a forlorn silhouette.

“She’s truly a pitiable soul,” Chen Ziang sighed as he watched her go. “You know, Suzuna—Ms. Takano used to be… a very forceful person. Whether negotiating in private or defending in court, she could always strike at the heart of the matter with just a few words, leaving her opponents speechless.”

“To see her reduced to this… She’s become almost unrecognizable. Her son’s death must have struck her unbearably hard.”

“Yes,” Suzuna Tsukimi agreed, though a strange unease stirred within her. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what was amiss—it wasn’t a sense of malice or deceit, but rather the feeling that “I must have overlooked something.”

She hesitated between continuing to ponder the case and taking her senior out to relax, when a familiar voice called out from afar:

“Suzuna!”

Turning, she saw Song Xi jogging over.

“Let me introduce you,” Suzuna said with a bright smile, relieved at the timely arrival. “This is Song Xi, a doctoral student in International Relations at Far North University, and my childhood best friend.”

“Hello,” Chen Ziang nodded to her.

Song Xi took the opportunity to size up this man: decent height, well-proportioned, regular features—handsome, really. But what stood out most was his aura, as though a sword was about to be drawn. No wonder he worked in that field—he looked reliable, someone who inspired a sense of safety.

Suzuna, after all these years, had never shown the slightest interest in any of her pursuers. Who would’ve thought she’d be drawn to someone like this?

“By the way,” Suzuna joked, “among the top three families of the Celestial Plains: Shi, Qin, and Song—Song Xi here is from the Song family. You can disregard my standing, but you can’t afford to offend her, or the Public Security will have you dismissed in no time!”

“Oh, come on!” Song Xi protested in embarrassment. “What kind of introduction is that? If we’re talking about status, isn’t your father still with the Ministry of External Affairs?”

At the mention of the Song family, Chen Ziang instinctively tensed, but Song Xi’s retort made him laugh.

Indeed, by such standards, Suzuna was a classic second-generation elite. Yet he had never seen her wield her family’s power to oppress others. In truth, she was just an ordinary, sweet young lady.