The Golden Hairpin

She stood up and noticed the assassin was barely conscious, yet his eyes remained fixed on her. Pretending not to notice, she turned her back to wash her hands by the river, only to realize her disheveled hair had come completely loose. The thick black strands framed her pale face, making it impossible to hide her true gender any longer.

She hurriedly tied her hair back, then retrieved the last two arrows from the horse and walked into the mountain stream, standing there to wait.

The stream was shallow, and the fish were small and thin, but there were quite a few of them, and they were foolish enough not to flee from people. Huang Zixiao moved stones to build a small dam, gradually narrowing the enclosure until she trapped several fish near the shallow bank. Then, with a swift stab of her arrow, she impaled two palm-sized fish, which wriggled frantically on the shaft.

Carrying the fish, she trudged back to the shore when it suddenly occurred to her—this method of catching fish was something her elder brother had taught her when she was very young.

Back then, she had been her brother’s little shadow, and he had still been a young boy with his hair in childish braids. Now, she was still using the fishing technique he had taught her, but her brother was already beneath the yellow springs, his flesh and bones turned to dust.

Overcome with grief, she stood frozen by the water for a moment, lost in thought. Then she raised her elbow and pressed it hard against her eyes, letting the fabric absorb the tears that had welled up.

The dead were gone—how could she afford to wallow in sorrow now?

She carried the fish ashore, cleaned them with her dagger, sliced them into thin pieces, and removed the bones.

Afraid of attracting the assassins, she dared not light a fire. But since the Tang Dynasty had a fondness for raw fish slices, fire wasn’t necessary. However, she had always eaten fish slices with mustard before, and now, without it, the taste was unbearably fishy and greasy.

She took out the salt she had found on the assassin, sprinkled some on the fish, then walked over to him. Pointing her dagger at him, she removed the gag from his mouth and said, “Hungry? Here’s some food. Don’t make a sound.”

The assassin stared at her in surprise until she pinched his chin and stuffed a piece of fish into his mouth. Only then did he realize she was genuinely feeding him. As he met her gaze, her eyes reflecting the moonlight like bright stars, he chewed the fish mechanically, barely registering the taste.

Huang Zixiao asked him, “Is it good?”

He savored it for a moment before replying, “It’s a bit fishy…”

“I rubbed it with the salt you brought. Doesn’t it taste alright?”

“Barely edible,” he conceded.

Huang Zixiao fed him another piece, studying his expression carefully.

He didn’t avert his gaze, looking back at her as he asked softly, “Why are you being so kind to me?”

Ignoring his question, she waited until he had finished both slices before gagging him again with the cloth. “Seems your salt isn’t poisoned after all,” she remarked.

Stunned, he watched her walk away, a bitter smile tugging at his lips.

Huang Zixiao ate half of the fish herself before taking the remaining half to Li Shubai’s side. Kneeling beside him, she lifted his hand and pressed the back of it against her cheek, checking his temperature.

The antidote had finally taken effect. Though administered late and he still hadn’t woken, at least the dark pallor had faded from his face, and the swelling in his left elbow had subsided.She let out a sigh of relief. The exhaustion and terror that had haunted her all night suddenly receded, leaving her feeling drained. She slumped to the ground, her vision darkening as she clutched her head and leaned against her knees, closing her eyes to catch her breath for a long while.

When the dizziness passed and she opened her eyes again, she realized Li Shubai had awakened. His slightly opened eyes had been fixed on her the entire time, never looking away.

The moment their gazes met, Huang Zixiao saw the clarity in his eyes, and all the confusion and panic of the night vanished instantly. Unconsciously, she leaned closer to him, tears welling up uncontrollably. "You... you're finally awake..."

Li Shubai noticed the glimmer of tears at the corners of her eyes, and despite his extreme weakness, a faint smile appeared on his face.

"I'm awake," he murmured.

Seeing his sudden smile, Huang Zixiao felt something strike her chest, blooming like petals unfurling one by one.

It was like a child seeing spring snow melt for the first time, like a mayfly alighting on a flower for the first time, like a cicada emerging from its dark burrow to gaze at the clear sky—discovering something entirely new and unknown, bewildered yet deeply captivated, unable to look away.

The dense foliage of the towering tree above filtered the sunlight into golden-red threads. A gentle breeze swayed the branches, scattering shifting patches of light across their faces and bodies, bright and flickering.

In this dappled radiance, the suffering and turmoil of the night faded abruptly. They gazed at each other as if reborn, unable to tear their eyes away for a long while.

She reached out to lightly touch his forehead, feeling the feverish heat. But at least he was awake. Though her eyes still shimmered with unshed tears, a smile curved her lips as she whispered, trembling, "You're awake... that's wonderful."

Looking at her smiling face in this moment of deliverance, he longed to raise his hand and touch her. But his body was numb, and lifting even a finger felt heavier than hoisting a thousand-pound weight. All he could do was smile back at her and murmur another soft "Mm."

"Are you hungry? Do you need water?" she asked. Seeing him blink once, she stood to fetch water and carefully helped him take a few sips.

Lying on the ground, he struggled to swallow, and a trickle of water escaped the corner of his lips.

After a moment's thought, she lifted his head to rest on her lap, then brought the rolled leaf to his lips again, steadying her hand to let him drink slowly.

Once he finished the water, she broke off two branches and fed him some slices of raw fish.

He ate slowly, with obvious difficulty and discomfort, but he kept his eyes on her and managed to swallow a few small bites.

Huang Zixiao explained quietly, "I didn't dare light a fire—it might have drawn the assassins from last night. Please bear with it, Your Highness."

He said nothing, resting his head on her lap as he watched her in silence.

Only then did she realize how intimate their position was. But under the circumstances, there was no helping it. She awkwardly changed the subject, saying, "I know Your Highness has always been fastidious, but in this place... Once we're safe, I'll find a way to help you clean up properly."She carefully laid Li Shubai's head back on the ground, using clumps of grass as a makeshift pillow. Taking the leftover fish to the stream, she suddenly noticed the captive she had tied up still watching her from beneath the tree, his gaze filled with complex and profound meaning.

She froze momentarily, thinking—had he witnessed her intimate moment with Li Shubai just now?

But then it struck her—he was merely an assassin sent to kill. Even if he recognized her as a woman, even if he misunderstood their relationship, what did it matter?

So she deliberately averted her eyes as if he were nothing more than a blade of grass, a flower, or a tree—utterly insignificant.

After washing her hands, she crouched before the captive and pressed her dagger against his throat, removing the cloth gag from his mouth. "What's your name?" she demanded.

His eyes, which had been fixed on her, shifted toward the nearby mountain stream. "Even if I told you, you wouldn't know."

"Truthfully, I don’t care to know." She tapped his shoulder lightly with the dagger, her tone noticeably lighter now that Li Shubai had awakened. "I only want to know who sent you—who dares to assassinate Prince Kui?"

Without hesitation, he replied, "Our king, Pang Xun, has summoned a million vengeful spirits from the underworld to exact revenge and take Prince Kui’s life."

Huang Zixiao scoffed. "And then what? So Prince Kui can shoot him dead again in the underworld?"

The man faltered, letting out a resentful grunt.

Huang Zixiao studied him with amusement. "You come from a refined background—your speech lacks the coarseness of common soldiers. It’s rare to find someone like you among the ranks. And Pang Xun’s followers were all displaced peasants and garrison troops—there’s no way someone like you could have been among them."

He clenched his jaw, glaring at her in silence.

Unfazed by his stare, Huang Zixiao sat down on the grass before him, though her dagger never left his neck. "Just confess honestly. Who are you, really? And who sent you to kill Prince Kui?"

Instead of answering, he suddenly smiled. "How about I tell you something? You don’t know who I am or where I come from, but I know exactly who you are."

Huang Zixiao traced the dagger along his neck. "Oh? Do tell."

"You were lying in ambush in the grass late at night—your surname must be related to grass. We met during the hour of Yin—remove the top of 'Yin' and add 'grass,' and you get 'Huang.' Your surname is Huang."

"Clever wordplay," she remarked, flipping the dagger to tap his shoulder again. "But I suspect you already knew my real identity and worked backward to this conclusion, didn’t you?"

He chuckled, though his stiff expression made it look more like a grimace.

"Seems you’ve done your homework on Prince Kui—even uncovering the identity of someone as insignificant as me by his side." She sneered before pressing him again. "Speak. Who sent you?"

He countered, "What do you think?"

"You’re from the capital, and with Princess Qile collaborating with you, it’s clear you’re part of a faction within the court. But since you disregard Princess Qile so brazenly, you must not care about imperial dignity—meaning you’re no royal kinsman...""You guessed wrong. The one who sent me is none other than the most powerful man in the world," he said casually.

Huang Zixiang glanced back at Li Shubai, who still lay quietly where he was, before glaring at the man. "Tell the truth!"

"I am telling the truth. Why won’t you believe me?" His tone was light and natural, even carrying a hint of mockery in his eyes.

Huang Zixiang frowned and pressed the dagger tighter against his throat. "His Majesty still needs Prince Kui to balance court factions and restrain Wang Zongshi. How could he possibly destroy his own strongest shield now?"

"Oh, because Eunuch Wang Zongshi is already terminally ill and doesn’t have much time left—as a little eunuch by Prince Kui’s side, how could you not know this?" He seemed entirely unfazed by the sharp blade at his neck, clicking his tongue in amazement. "Is it really wise for you to be so ignorant about your political enemies?"

"And is it really wise for you to spout nonsense and sow discord between Prince Kui and the court?" she retorted, frowning. But she didn’t press further, knowing it would be futile. Instead, she gagged him again and turned back toward the bushes, only to find Li Shubai awake, his eyes open—he had been listening to their conversation the whole time.

She sighed. "I’m not very good at interrogation."

"Don’t bother. Even if you kill him, he won’t talk... What he’s protecting is more important than himself." Li Shubai slowly closed his eyes again. "Go tell him to help me whistle four times—three short, one long. If he refuses, say this to him: 'Longyou, beneath the white elms, the frontier mountains are heavy with snow, yet no beacon fires burn.'"