The Golden Hairpin

She quickly stood up and walked toward him, saying, "I was thinking about what he told me."

She didn't know why she felt such urgency to explain herself to him, but Li Shubai's face remained completely expressionless. Bathed in the slanting sunlight, he gazed at her and merely uttered a faint "Oh."

Huang Ziyao thought it was utterly unfair—why was she, standing inside the room, so clearly illuminated by the evening light streaming in, while he, standing against the light, remained an indistinct figure no matter how hard she tried to discern his expression or the depths hidden in his eyes?

Without acknowledging her, he turned and walked away.

With unease gnawing at her, Huang Ziyao followed him to the Pillow Stream Pavilion. The entire way, he remained silent, only adding to the weight of her anxiety.

Only when they reached the interior of the Pillow Stream Pavilion did Huang Ziyao muster the courage to speak. "Your Highness, if you needed me for something, you could have just sent Jingyu or someone to call for me..."

Instead of responding, he asked, "You went to see Empress Wang. How did she react?"

"The Empress will likely summon Consort Guo soon. After all, the timing couldn't be better."

"Hmm. The Emperor has been indiscriminately executing people over Princess Tongchang. Several ministers spoke up in court today, but they were instead demoted in his anger. Even the Grand Imperial Concubine is unsettled by this. Yet who can blame the Emperor? The blame will inevitably fall on Consort Guo."

At this moment, Empress Wang's return to the palace to restrain Consort Guo was the collective wish of both the court and the inner palace—even the commoners in the capital privately discussed and hoped for it.

"Perhaps even the heavens are helping Empress Wang. At her most critical moment, Princess Tongchang—Consort Guo's greatest reliance—died, and the ensuing chaos has unsettled both court and public." Huang Ziyao murmured.

Li Shubai shook his head. "No. Empress Wang didn't get to where she is today by mere luck. The person standing behind her is the one who cannot be ignored."

Huang Ziyao asked, "The Wang family?"

"Yes and no." Li Shubai turned his gaze to the small fish resting quietly at the bottom of the glass bottle on the desk and said slowly, "The Wang family member who operates outside the Wang family is the true hand pulling the strings behind this court."

Suddenly, the image of a man standing atop the halls of the Taiji Palace, watching her from afar, flashed through Huang Ziyao's mind.

A man in purple robes and a jade belt, with eyes like a venomous snake.

He had pressed her hand into the fish tank, letting Agashini devour the congealed blood on her fingers.

In that instant, realization dawned on her, and she whispered, "Wang Zongshi."

Li Shubai said nothing, only giving a faint tug at the corner of his lips. "If not for Wang Zongshi's support, how could I have come this far? How could I have attained this position?"

Huang Ziyao fell silent.

Ten years ago, when the late Emperor passed away, Wang Zongshi served as the Left Divine Strategy Army Protector. He executed Wang Guichang, Ma Gongru, Wang Jufang, and others who had plotted rebellion, personally leading the ceremonial procession to welcome the new Emperor into the palace. He was the foremost contributor to the current Emperor's ascension.

Yet, only after ascending the throne did the Emperor realize how difficult this position truly was.

For nearly a century, the court had been largely controlled by eunuchs, with countless officials dying at their hands—even emperors had been assassinated by them. The late Emperor had feigned foolishness for years, biding his time until he finally eliminated Ma Yuanzhi, the very eunuch who had helped him seize power. But the current Emperor could never deceive the ever-vigilant Wang Zongshi, nor did he possess the strength to oppose him.Fortunately, three years ago during the great chaos in Xuzhou, Prince Kui Li Shubai quelled the rebellion and, backed by the support of six military governors, gained the allegiance of the ten departments in the capital. The imperial family finally managed to cultivate its own power. With Prince Kui's residence and the Shence Army keeping each other in check, these past few years have been the most secure for the court and the emperor.

Huang Ziyao's gaze fell on his calm profile, and she wondered inwardly: What had it been like when the late emperor passed away, and he, only thirteen years old, was sent away from the Daming Palace? How had he spent those six years as the obscure Prince Tong? And what had he thought when, at nineteen, he rose to fame in a single battle, his brilliance undeniable, and shouldered the fate of the entire Tang imperial family from then on?

His life had not a moment of leisure, burdened with countless responsibilities, exhausting his every effort. She had once pondered what brought him joy in life, but now it seemed that joy was far too extravagant for him. His entire existence was perhaps only about his duty to the Li-Tang imperial house, with no life of his own.

Because his surname was Li. He was Prince Kui, Li Shubai.

Huang Ziyao silently watched him, but he turned his head, and their eyes met squarely, locking in a long, unbroken gaze.

She lowered her eyes, while he continued to look at her and asked, "With Consort Guo's secret exposed, have you considered what will become of Yu Xuan?"

She bit her lower lip and said softly, "Empress Wang would not expose this matter—what good would it do her? The wisest move for the empress would be to warn Consort Guo and make her one of those who publicly advocate for the empress's return to the palace."

"Compared to Empress Wang, Consort Guo is far from clever, isn't she? With only one daughter, she foolishly hoped to overthrow Empress Wang, who bore both a son and a daughter and personally raised the crown prince, relying solely on the emperor's affection for the princess. In a palace where discretion is paramount, she even wrote love poems with her own hand, giving others a weapon against her." Li Shubai spoke without any emotion, then paused before asking, "When did you first become certain that it was Consort Guo, not Princess Tongchang, who was involved with Yu Xuan?"

"When I saw the unfinished line of poetry in Zhijin Garden," Huang Ziyao lifted her face, gazing at the lanterns lighting up one by one in the gradually darkening sky outside the window, and murmured, "Since that wasn't Princess Tongchang's handwriting, the person in Zhijin Garden that day must have been the one who killed Doukou. The princess, who had already arranged for Doukou to be moved elsewhere, would go to such lengths to protect someone—even at the cost of her husband's misunderstanding and resentment—could only be... her mother, Consort Guo. And her handwriting matched the line of poetry on the letter Yu Xuan burned that day."

As the sky darkened, the lamps inside the room grew brighter, casting their light upon the two of them—illuminating the bright spots even more, while the shadows deepened.

"Moreover, the line from that letter—'At this moment we gaze but do not hear each other, I long to follow the moonlight and shine upon you'—could never have been the princess's words. The princess takes whatever she desires—she could storm into the Imperial Academy and demand that the chancellor have Yu Xuan personally lecture. Why would she write such distant, unattainable verses to him?"Li Shubai gave a faint smile, gazing at the motionless little red fish in the water, as if it were asleep, and said, "Rumors abound that Consort Guo frequently visits the princess's residence and has an illicit affair with the imperial son-in-law, Wei Baoheng. There are also rumors that Princess Tongchang forced Yu Xuan, the academic supervisor of the Imperial Academy, into her residence, humiliating her husband—but who truly knows the real truth behind these stories?"

Huang Zixiao asked, "When did Your Highness become aware of this matter?"

"A little earlier than you," he replied, sitting at the table and looking at the small fish with an utterly calm expression. "When the Nine Phoenix Hairpin was stolen and you went to inspect Qiyun Pavilion, I saw Consort Guo below from the railing outside. She handed something to Yu Xuan—later, you told me it was a letter and revealed the remaining sentence on it."

She hesitated but finally asked, "Why didn’t Your Highness tell me?"

"I believed it had nothing to do with you or this case."

Huang Zixiao fell silent for a long while before saying, "Regardless, Yu Xuan and I have known each other for many years. I should still be aware of his affairs..."

"Then why should I be the one to relay it? He’s waiting for you in Yizhou—you can speak with him at length yourself."

For the first time since they had met, he interrupted her with such sharpness, startling her. She looked up at him and said, "When matters here are concluded, Your Highness promised to take me there immediately."

"Impatient, aren’t you?" he sneered.

Huang Zixiao asked in surprise, "Is there still a need to delay in the capital?"

"Then why didn’t you follow Yu Xuan to Shu yourself, instead of waiting for me to take you?"

Baffled by his sudden hostility, Huang Zixiao could only explain, "This case has already been adjudicated. Without Your Highness's help, I would never be able to overturn the verdict in Shu. We had already agreed on this—does Your Highness now intend to go back on your word?"

"In this lifetime, I have never gone back on my word." Li Shubai's expression grew even colder as he turned his gaze away, refusing to look at her. "You’re right. Our arrangement was merely a mutual exchange of conditions, each of us needing the other’s assistance. Once the truth of your family’s case comes to light, we can part ways, with no further obligations."

Huang Zixiao sensed something in his words she couldn’t quite accept, yet by the terms of their initial agreement, it was indeed so.

She looked up at his icy, stern face, her heart in turmoil. Unconsciously, she took a step toward him and said, "No matter what, I only ask that Your Highness not forget your promise—to take me to Shu to investigate the bloody massacre of my parents and family, to seek justice for them all..."

Her hand reached out toward him, but as it crossed the table, her wrist brushed against the glass bowl at the edge. With a crisp clink , the bowl toppled onto the brick floor below, shattering into pieces. Water splashed everywhere, leaving only the little red fish flailing helplessly on the ground.

Huang Zixiao froze for a moment before quickly crouching down to scoop the fish into her palms.

This was the little fish Li Shubai had always kept by his side—the sole bright spot in his monotonous, busy life, something he could glance at in his rare moments of leisure.

So when she held it in her hands, a pang of regret flashed through her heart.She absolutely couldn't let it die, couldn't let herself destroy the only bright spot in Li Shubai's life.

The brush washer inside had already cleaned the ink brush, and the tea in the pot was still warm—unsuitable for keeping fish. Turning around, she cradled the little red fish and ran toward the outer steps—the Pillow Stream Pavilion was built right by the water's edge, surrounded by lotus flowers, with steps leading directly down to the surface.

Cupping the small fish, she scooped a handful of water and watched as it flicked its tail and righted itself. Only then did she breathe a sigh of relief, looking up at Li Shubai.

Li Shubai stood inside the waterside pavilion, his deep, fathomless eyes fixed on her. Yet all he saw was her holding the little fish, silently gazing at him.

After a pause, he finally took a bronze wine vessel from the antique shelf and walked over to her.

But just as she raised her hands to transfer the little red fish into the bronze vessel, the fish suddenly leaped in panic, darting from her palms straight into the water.

A tiny ripple formed as the fish vanished beneath the surface, never to be seen again.

Kneeling in shock by the water's edge, she saw the drastic change in Li Shubai's expression as he stood beside her.

The pond was vast, filled with lotus flowers, and the fish was no longer than a finger joint. Even if they uprooted every lotus in the pond and drained all the water, they would never find such a tiny fish again.

Huang Zixiang noticed Li Shubai's brows furrowing deeply.

A little red fish that never grew, always kept in his glass bowl. The first time they met, he had told her this fish was connected to a secret even the emperor had explicitly forbidden anyone to inquire about. And now, this fish had slipped through her fingers and disappeared.

Standing by the lotus pond, the water in her hands spilled onto the hem of her robe. She looked up at Li Shubai in distress, but he didn't spare her a glance or utter a word. After a long silence, he turned and went inside.

Leaving Huang Zixiang alone on the steps by the water. The breeze rustled through the lotus leaves, and the dazzling sunset light blurred everything before her eyes, making the world almost impossible to see clearly.