The Golden Hairpin

The call of partridges reached her ears. It was the sixth month, warm and pleasant, with even the breeze as gentle as water, brushing past like the sheerest gauze, tickling the skin like the lingering, plaintive songs of lotus-gathering girls by the distant waterside.

Amidst this season where heaven and earth seemed to meld together, twelve-year-old Huang Zixiang heard her father calling her name. She turned from the water's edge, the sunlight casting a blood-red or carnelian glow against her eyes, enveloping the world before her in an eerie crimson light.

In this strange, vivid radiance, she saw the youth standing beside her father—his worn clothes and subdued demeanor unable to conceal his pale skin and jet-black hair. His eyes, dark as lacquer, gazed at her, deep and profound like the quietest night, as if carved into her heart with a blade's edge, never to be erased for all eternity.

Barefoot in the pond, the lotus buds she had gathered slipped unnoticed from her arms into the water.

She saw a faint smile in the youth's eyes as he slowly approached, helping her retrieve the budding lotus flowers one by one. He must have noticed the mud splattered on her calves and the grass clinging beneath her gauzy skirt, yet he only smiled slightly, offering the flowers to her. When he looked at her, it wasn’t with the usual condescension adults reserved for little girls, but with a tenderness she had never seen before—a youth’s gaze upon a maiden.

Sometimes, a girl grows up in an instant, with nothing more than a single look from another.

"Yu Xuan..." Huang Zixiang abruptly sat up in bed, reaching out as if to grasp the lingering remnants of the vision, only to realize it was but a dream in the dead of night.

The pitch-black darkness outside was broken only by the howling wind, the lingering chill of early spring seeping into the bones. Wrapped in brocade quilts, Huang Zixiang lay silently in the heavy night, watching the phantoms of the past slip through her fingertips.

Suppressing her breath, she slowly lay back down, burying herself in the silk-filled bedding. After solving the Four Directions Case, she had become something of a celebrity in the capital, and the Prince Kui's household treated this young eunuch quite well—her daily provisions were of the finest quality, even surpassing what she had enjoyed as the daughter of a high-ranking official back in Shu.

Yet, lying in the warm, soft bedding, she found it harder to sleep than when she had trekked through rain-soaked wilderness. Wide-eyed, she listened to the wind outside in the darkness. After a long while, she finally threw off the covers, dressed, and stepped outside.

Shadows of trees loomed all around as she navigated the Prince Kui's sprawling estate from memory. The patrolling guards paid her no mind—likely, her recent prominence in the household had made her comings and goings unquestioned.

She arrived at Jingyu Hall, where moonlight spilled over the flowers and trees, the surroundings utterly silent. It was only the fourth watch; naturally, Li Shubai was still fast asleep.

Only then did it dawn on her—no matter how urgently last night’s dream weighed on her heart, how could Prince Kui Li Shubai possibly rise in the dead of night just to tend to her feelings?

So she could only find a stone beneath a flowering tree outside the hall, resting her face against her bent knees, intending to sit quietly for a while before returning to await his summons.She had no idea how long she had been sitting there. The moonlight dimmed, and a faint indigo hue appeared on the horizon. The heavy spring dew dampened the hem of her robe as she stared blankly at the sprouting grass, only to see a pair of black leather boots step on the tender shoots.

Her gaze traveled upward from the boots. He wore a fitted purple robe embroidered with dark blue dragon motifs, tailored to accentuate his tall, straight figure. At his waist hung a purple jade pendant carved with celestial towers, tied with a nine-knotted, eighteen-twisted blue silk cord. The cuffs and collar were simple and narrow, the very style that was all the rage in the capital.

Prince Li Shu of Kuizhou was known for his effortless elegance—whatever he wore would soon become the latest fashion. At first glance, this man truly seemed like a pampered, pleasure-seeking royal scion.

Huang Zixiang rested her chin on her knees, watching him as the thought crossed her mind.

Li Shu stood before her, looking down. When she remained silent, he turned his gaze to the palace lanterns hanging from the flowering trees and asked, "On a night like this, with such stars and such a breeze, what is a little eunuch doing admiring flowers at dawn?"

Huang Zixiang lowered her voice. "I had a dream last night. I... I wanted to ask what task you’ve entrusted to me, whether I can finish it quickly and return to Shu as soon as possible."

Li Shu glanced at her under the lantern light but said nothing. Instead, he stepped past her and walked onto the nearby corridor.

Huang Zixiang rose and followed him. He sat down as if she weren’t there, while she stood waiting for him to speak.

The palace lanterns swayed gently in the night breeze. The silk lanterns painted with Penglai, the immortal isle, spun and tilted in the wind, casting shifting light and shadow over Li Shu’s face, making it hard to discern his expression.

In no hurry to address her, he simply gazed up at the lantern hanging beneath the upturned eaves, studying it for a long while. Huang Zixiang stood restlessly beneath the light, waiting. Finally sensing something amiss, she turned to examine the lantern—an ordinary octagonal palace lantern with finely joined red-lacquered wooden rods forming auspicious cloud and thunder patterns. The white silk shade depicted misty immortal mountains and seas, with nine-tiered towers and celestial beings coming and going.

She found nothing unusual about it. When she turned back, she found Li Shu watching her, his eyes as dark and distant as stars in the dim light.

She touched her face, but before she could ask, Li Shu spoke slowly, "What a coincidence. Just now, I too had a dream. I stood atop the city walls of Xuzhou, looking down upon thousands of rooftops. After waking, I couldn’t fall back asleep."

Huang Zixiang leaned against the waterside railing, silently watching him. He met her gaze—bright as stars yet distant as rippling light.

"For years, something strange and inexplicable has surrounded me. I’ve been lost in it, unable to understand. That’s why I’ve been searching for someone to help unravel this mystery." His eyes lingered on the ethereal immortal mountains painted on the lantern as he asked slowly, "Do you know why I gave you ten days?"

Huang Zixiang shook her head, her questioning gaze flickering in the swaying light.

"Because that’s the day I must choose a consort. This date, this matter—it displeases me greatly." He exhaled deeply, leaning back against the corridor railing. The flickering lantern light cast shifting shadows over him on this spring night, making everything seem strangely elusive."Back then, I once obtained a prophecy in Xuzhou, and what was written on it has deeply concerned me ever since."

Xuzhou—Huang Zixiang suddenly recalled a major incident that had shocked the world years ago, and her expression shifted visibly. Li Shubai also said, "Indeed, Xuzhou was the turning point of my fate. Everyone calls it my land of fortune. But no one knows that on the last night before I returned to the capital after pacifying Xuzhou, as I stood atop the city walls overlooking the entire city, something happened that remains fresh in my memory to this day."

At this point, he finally turned to look at her and drew a piece of paper from his sleeve.

The paper was thick and slightly yellowed, about two inches wide and eight inches long. Its background was adorned with eerie vermilion patterns resembling snakes and insects, and in bold black ink were written the six characters: "Widower, Crippled, Orphaned, Alone, Disabled, Ill." Among them, the characters for "widower" and "orphaned" were abruptly marked with two blood-red circles, as though fate had been circled in blood, creating an overwhelmingly oppressive sight.

Li Shubai's fingers traced the vermilion patterns resembling intertwined insects and snakes on the background. "This pattern is written in the 'insect-snake script,' and it bears my birth date and time."

Huang Zixiang stared at the six ominous characters stamped over his birth details and the two blood-like circles, feeling an inexplicable sense of foreboding rise within her.

Li Shubai placed the talisman on the railing, pressing it lightly with his hand. "This talisman appeared on the night I stood atop the Xuzhou city walls, surveying the city below. It seemed to materialize silently on the parapet beside me. When I first picked it up, it only had those six characters—there were no red circles. Only the character for 'orphaned' faintly showed a trace of a red mark." His finger rested on the character as if caressing a past chapter of his life. "To lose one's father young is to be orphaned. At that time, my father had already passed, but my mother was still alive, so I paid it little mind. I assumed it was just a common curse from an adversary and kept it, intending to investigate who among my people dared to bring such a thing near me. But then..."

His gaze drifted to the palace lantern beside them. In the stillness of the night, the lantern cast a flickering glow, and for a moment, Huang Zixiang felt as though the entire surroundings had blurred into an indistinct haze.

"That night, I was plagued by countless nightmares, each one revolving around those six words: widower, crippled, orphaned, alone, disabled, ill. When I woke, I resolved to burn the talisman to ashes. But when I took it out, I found that the faint red mark around the character for 'orphaned' had darkened, becoming as it is now." His finger lingered on the character. Under the moonlight, the vermilion circle beside his finger bloomed like a sinister red flower, or like a stain of blood spreading—utterly chilling. "And it was on that very day, at that very moment, an urgent dispatch arrived from the capital. When I opened it, I learned of my mother's death."

On the day the red circle marked "orphaned," he truly became an orphan, with no parents left in this world.

Huang Zixiang watched as his hand withdrew from the talisman, unconsciously clenching into a fist. His elegant fingers tightened so fiercely that his knuckles turned pale. Without thinking, she said, "Perhaps it was merely a coincidence, Your Highness. There’s no need to dwell on it too much.""On my way back to the capital from Xuzhou after receiving news of my mother's death, I once encountered an assassination attempt. I was stabbed in the left arm. Though the wound wasn't deep, the weapon had been poisoned. The accompanying military physicians all said my arm couldn't be saved—that to preserve my life, I would have to lose my left arm." His right hand lightly touched his left arm, as if the pain still lingered. "At that time, I took out this talisman I carried with me and saw the bright red circle faintly appearing on it, encircling precisely the character for 'mutilation.'"

The night was silent, a sudden gust of wind making the lanterns spin violently. The dim light cast eerie shadows around them as the talisman with its crimson circle fluttered at the edges, as if fate itself were trembling.

Li Shubai looked at her, his expression so calm it seemed almost rigid. "Do you know what I did then?"

Huang Zixiang held the talisman in her hand, standing beneath the swaying palace lanterns, her gaze fixed unwaveringly on him. "I imagine Your Highness must have detained the physicians and interrogated them for the mastermind behind it."

The tension in Li Shubai's face gradually eased, and even in the faint red glow of the lanterns, a hint of a smile seemed to touch his lips. His usually cold demeanor suddenly softened, revealing a warmth as refreshing as a spring breeze. Though the smile was faint, it couldn't conceal what shone through from within. "Huang Zixiang," he said, "you truly are like me—someone who refuses to believe in fate."

"In my three years in Shu Commandery, I handled twenty-six murder cases, eight of which involved rumors of ghosts and spirits. But when the truth came out, it was always people with ulterior motives pretending to be supernatural. Take, for example, the recent Four Corners case—it too was disguised as the work of spirits." Huang Zixiang pressed her hand against the talisman. "As for this talisman, what Your Highness has described is already enough to reveal the intentions of the person behind it."

Li Shubai looked at her with amusement. "Why don't you explain it then?"