The Golden Hairpin

Prince Kui's Mansion, Pillow Stream Pavilion.

Jing Yu returned to report on his task: "Your Highness, that Lü Dicui... I don’t know where she went."

Li Shubai frowned slightly, setting down his brush. "Didn’t I instruct you to follow her all the way from the Dali Temple?"

"Yes, but when we reached the city gates, she drew unwanted attention. I was just considering how to step in and protect her when a passerby intervened and rescued her," Jing Yu explained. "Remembering Your Highness’s order was simply to ensure her safe departure from the capital, and seeing that she had already boarded a boat and left, I chose not to pursue further."

"Hmm. Prince Kui’s Mansion can assist her temporarily, but we can’t be responsible for her forever. Let her go," Li Shubai said upon hearing she was safe.

Jing Yu acknowledged but did not leave. Sensing there was more, Li Shubai motioned for him to continue.

"The person who saved Lü Dicui was Yu Xuan, the recently resigned Director of Studies from the Imperial Academy."

Li Shubai pondered for a moment, then merely responded with a noncommittal "Hmm."

Jing Yu, ever perceptive, bowed. "This servant takes his leave."

Li Shubai waved him off. After Jing Yu withdrew, he sat alone in the waterside pavilion, feeling the oppressive heat of the summer breeze from all directions.

Unable to stay still, he rose and walked along the winding bridge that crossed the lotus-filled lake, heading toward the front courtyard.

Jing Que, on duty that day, was seated in the side hall, animatedly chatting with Huang Ziguang while they peeled lotus seeds together.

"Hey, Chonggu, I heard you’re going to Shu with His Highness? Shu is wonderful—the Land of Abundance, with breathtaking scenery!"

"Yes, we’ll likely depart soon," she murmured, resting her chin on her hand as she gazed absently at the lotus pond outside. Her eyes seemed fixed on some distant, yet achingly close figure.

Li Shubai watched her from the window, recalling Yu Xuan, who had promised to wait for her in Yizhou.

Yu Xuan.

A rather complicated man, difficult to define.

He was a murder suspect, possibly connected to the deaths of her parents, yet he was also kind-hearted, helping orphans and widows without seeking recognition. An orphan who had risen through sheer determination, yet he had also willingly entangled himself with women like Consort Guo. If he loved Huang Ziguang, why had he submitted her love letters as evidence and insisted she was the killer? If he hated her, why had he abandoned his own future to return to Yizhou and await her vindication?

Huang Ziguang and Jing Que noticed him and quickly stood to greet him.

He motioned for her to follow, and the two walked side by side along the willow-shaded path by the lotus pond.

The breeze carried the scent of lotus, lifting the hems of their robes, occasionally brushing them together before parting again.

Li Shubai paused beneath a willow, his gaze lingering on a vibrant red lotus in full bloom. He pushed aside the thought of Yu Xuan and did not bring him up.

"There’s something I’d like you to see," he said, leading her toward the Ice Speech Pavilion.

This was the winter quarters, now unused in the summer heat. As they entered, the stifling air instantly reminded them both of Princess Tongchang’s storeroom.

Li Shubai retrieved the nine-grid box from a cabinet, opened it, and then the wooden lotus-shaped inner case, removing the talisman inside and handing it to her.

Huang Ziguang accepted it with both hands, her eyes widening in shock.On the thick, slightly yellowed paper, amidst the eerie background patterns, the six characters "widower, disabled, orphaned, solitary, infirm, and ill" remained as vivid as if freshly written. At this moment, apart from the initial red circle around the character "solitary", another faint red circle had appeared, encircling the character "infirm".

Decay and abandonment—this was the meaning of "waste.""

The red circle was still faint in color, as if it had just emerged from the paper. Yet the way it seemed to dictate someone's fate with such dripping strokes carried an unsettling, almost bloody aura that sent chills down one's spine.

Huang Zixiang looked up at him in shock, her voice trembling involuntarily: "Your Highness... when did this appear?"

"I don't know. After the matter of establishing the consort passed and the red circle around 'widower' faded, I became preoccupied with affairs and never thought of it again. Until a few days ago, when I felt restless and suddenly remembered it, so I took it out to look." His hand rested on the talisman, his expression one of bewilderment but not fear. "It seems another unavoidable storm is about to arise around me."

Huang Zixiang asked, "Who has been entering and leaving Yubing Pavilion recently?"

"Many—from Jing Yu and Jing You to the gardeners and servants. Not to mention the days I was away—once the patrolling guards passed, anyone determined to sneak in could find a way." Li Shubai frowned slightly. "The scope of suspicion is too broad; it won't be easy to investigate thoroughly."

"Hmm, it would be best to find another breakthrough," she agreed.

"We'll deal with it after returning from Yizhou." He placed the talisman back into the box and, since it couldn't be guarded against, casually set it aside behind him.

Huang Zixiang stared at the box with a frown. "At first, I thought the method behind the theft of the Nine Phoenix Hairpin from the princess's residence might be similar to the appearance and disappearance of the red circles on this talisman."

"I never let anyone else handle the opening or closing of this box."

Huang Zixiang nodded. "Yes, so how exactly the other party intervened, and who it was... I still have no leads."

"If it has given me a warning, then I shall face it head-on," Li Shubai said with icy calm. "I want to see whether it's a piece of paper dictating my fate or my own hands shaping my life."

Huang Zixiang gazed at him with awe. In the summer's backlight, he stood before the talisman that seemed to outline his destiny—yet he remained straight and unyielding, like a jade mountain that had stood for millennia, radiant and unshakable, impossible to look at directly.

Watching him, she said softly, "Still, it's best to be cautious in all things."

He gave a slight nod, locked the box back into the cabinet, and casually took out the scroll from the Zhang family. After glancing at the scribbles on it, he remarked, "Also, the true nature of this painting is certainly not the so-called doodles of three deaths."

"Right, that was just us forcing interpretations as a joke," Huang Zixiang sighed. "Who would have thought Lü Zhiyuan would draw inspiration from our casual remarks and link this case to the late emperor's writings, trying to muddy the waters?"

"In a way, he was an admirable old man." As Li Shubai led her out, he recalled something else and mentioned it offhandedly. "There's another person worthy of admiration—Empress Wang has returned to the palace."

Huang Zixiang was slightly surprised. "The Empress moves swiftly.""Both the court and the public harbor discontent towards Consort Guo. Moreover, she has now lost even her sole reliance, Princess Tongchang. How can she possibly hinder the Empress's return to the palace? And what's more..."

He turned to look at her, his eyes filled with profound meaning: "This time, it was Consort Guo herself who petitioned the Emperor to allow the Empress's return."

The reason, of course, was that the Empress had already begun pressuring her.

Rumors circulated that Consort Guo frequently visited the princess's residence, engaging in an illicit affair with the princess's consort, Wei Baoheng, without any restraint.

A woman falling for a youth the same age as her daughter was like a wildfire raging across the wilderness, consuming everything in its path with reckless abandon. Even when the other party indifferently burned the letters she had risked so much to write, she remained obstinately unrepentant.

Now, with Princess Tongchang—who had helped conceal their affair—gone, her opportunities to meet Yu Xuan would become exceedingly rare. This secret, unspoken love that had ended before it could even be known would forever be buried in their hearts, leaving only those words as a noose around her neck, ready at any moment to drag her into the abyss.

She was never a match for Empress Wang, in any aspect.

"Perhaps it's for the best that Empress Wang returns. The controversy over Princess Tongchang's tomb exceeding imperial regulations has once again stirred up the court. I have no time to deal with this matter—I wonder if the newly returned Empress can suppress it."

Huang Zixiang asked in surprise, "Your Highness has no time?"

In her impression, he was always adept at managing affairs—how could he possibly lack the time to handle such matters?

Li Shubai turned to look at her, his gaze deep and distant: "Naturally, it's also that I don’t wish to intervene. Sometimes I think, perhaps when the person one cherishes most is in peril, whether it be a common laborer or an emperor, one loses control and does things no one can stop."

Thus, the Emperor ignored the protests of his ministers, stubbornly lavishing grand constructions upon his daughter, using the most extravagant mourning rites to express his grief.

Thus, the stubborn and wretched old man Lü Zhiyuan meticulously plotted to murder all who had harmed his daughter, never hesitating even in the face of a torturous death.

And between a princess showered with boundless affection yet denied what she truly desired, and a common girl pitied by fate yet cherished by someone willing to risk everything—who, in the end, was the happier one?

"I wonder if I, too, will one day have a daughter, and what she would be like," Li Shubai suddenly mused, watching the lotus leaves and blossoms sway in the wind.

Huang Zixiang replied softly, "There are many in this world who dote on their children. I imagine His Majesty also believed he had presented Princess Tongchang with the very best the world could offer, that his daughter would surely lead the most blissful and fulfilled life... Alas, he was mistaken."

Li Shubai nodded thoughtfully. "Everyone assumes the Emperor treasured Princess Tongchang like a jewel, that her life must have been without flaw. But who could truly see the countless wounds hidden beneath?"

Her father indulged her excessively, yet never understood what she truly desired. As a child, she once cut her hand on a shard of porcelain, and thus was forever deprived of toys. He bestowed upon her countless treasures, yet robbed her of the simple joys of youth.Her mother used her as a stepping stone for her own ambitions, even dragging her in as a shield to cover up her unspeakable secrets with Yu Xuan when she did something outrageous. Yet, the first thing her mother considered after her death was to silence everyone around her to protect those secrets.

She had chosen Wei Baoheng as her husband simply because the dashing young man on the polo field smiled at her once. Little did she know that while he coveted the power she brought him, he was infatuated with another woman who paled in comparison to her in every way.

“So, having never experienced a normal family life, she kept meeting with Qian Guansuo again and again. Perhaps only from him could she gain something she had always lacked.”

The long-forgotten little porcelain dog, the ordinary life she had never known, the simple father-daughter affection she had never felt—all these made her seek out Qian Guansuo time and again. Because in her entire life, she had never encountered such things.

A princess trapped within gilded walls and jade pillars, with no one understanding the barren wasteland of her heart. Because she was unhappy, her father piled more treasures around her, never realizing that what his daughter truly desired might just be a crude little porcelain dog from a street vendor.

Li Shubai remained silent for a long time before finally letting out a deep sigh, murmuring as if to himself, “I wonder what kind of father I’ll be in the future.”

Huang Zixiao replied quietly, “Hopefully… not like the Emperor, who dotes on his daughter excessively yet doesn’t even know what she truly wants.”

Because a shard of porcelain once cut his daughter’s finger, he banned all porcelain from her surroundings. Yet he failed to understand that sometimes, all his daughter needed was a cheap, rough little porcelain dog from the market—not the mansions he built for her with gold, silver, and jewels.

“And not like Lü Zhiyuan, silent and stubborn, not knowing how to cherish his delicate daughter, believing tenderness in a man to be shameful, letting his rough attitude hurt her day after day.”

“Nor like Qian Guansuo, who abandoned his daughter in the hardest times, only to seek her out again when circumstances improved, thinking things could return to how they were, completely ignoring the irreparable rift between them.”

Li Shubai turned to look at her and asked, “Then, what does a good father look like in your eyes?”

Huang Zixiao fell silent, thinking of the person who used to secretly watch her under the courtyard trees when she was young. The one who pretended to casually mention how other daughters made shoes for their fathers in front of her, yet boasted to everyone behind her back, “My daughter is worth ten sons.” Her father.

That was her father. In her youth, she had thought him ordinary, unlikely to achieve anything remarkable in life. She had assumed he was probably just like any other father.

Yet now, her eyes welled up as she said to Li Shubai, “The best father I’ve ever seen in this world… is my own.”

Li Shubai looked down at her without a word.

In his heart, he too thought of the one who had left him forever when he was thirteen. That towering mountain of his childhood, under whose vast wings he once believed he could shelter from all storms.

Now, they were both orphans.In this world, one can never rely on others again, and must walk forward step by step alone, whether facing storms or sunshine ahead.