The Golden Hairpin

The summer sun was scorching as noon approached, hot winds sweeping over the lush green grass. Li Shubai had already closed the doors and windows and gone to bed.

She knocked lightly on the door before entering and said to him, "Get up and eat something."

Still feverish, Li Shubai drowsily propped himself halfway up against the headboard, squinting slightly as he looked at her. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Just past noon. I'm slow, so it took me a while. Please don't blame me, Your Highness." Smiling, she handed him the bowl and added, "It's a bit hot—be careful."

He took the reed chopsticks and examined them. Huang Zixiang quickly said, "I washed them earlier."

He gave a soft "Mm" and took a sip of the soup before picking up a piece of yam with the chopsticks. "It's fine," he said. "At a place like this, how could I be picky? I just thought what you made was rather unique."

"Really? I was worried it might be too slippery and hard to pick up. But using twigs would have been too rough, so please bear with it." She sat by the bed, holding the bowl for him.

Still dazed from his illness, he obediently finished the bowl of chicken soup with her help.

As Huang Zixiang gathered the dishes and prepared to leave, he asked again, "Is Yu Xuan still here?"

Huang Zixiang nodded. "Yes, he is."

He studied her expression, searching for something, but found nothing. Her gaze was clear and serene, as calm as a forest stream.

Li Shubai averted his eyes, his usually cold voice softening. "Does he still think you're the murderer?"

"Yes. We just went over what happened that day, but unfortunately, there was no progress." She sighed quietly. "But I already knew this wouldn't be simple. There's nothing to be done."

"Take your time. The truth will come out eventually," he said, leaning against the headboard as he watched her, neither asking her to stay nor telling her to leave.

Holding the bowl, Huang Zixiang hesitated before asking, "Your Highness, what does that talisman of yours foretell now?Li Shubai took out the talisman, looking at the still-vivid red circle and the encircled character "waste", then handed it to her. "Perhaps I'm already a wasted man now."

Huang Zixiang examined it and said, "Your Highness moves freely, and your strength is recovering. How can you call yourself 'wasted'? It seems this prophecy is wrong."

"You don’t understand—in this world, there’s another kind of life besides mere survival," Li Shubai murmured, his voice barely audible as he gazed at the talisman. "And that life of mine may already be cut off."

Hearing his words and thinking of the hidden forces behind the talisman she had glimpsed, Huang Zixiang felt a chill run down her spine. But when she looked up, his expression was calm and cold, his right hand resting motionlessly on the talisman as if frozen, yet never putting it away.

She watched him silently for a long moment before whispering, "Don’t worry. Whether human or ghost, we’ll drag out whoever is hiding behind this."

When she returned to the kitchen, she found Yu Xuan was already gone.

Only his handwriting remained on the floor where she had wiped away the ashes, faintly legible: "I'll be waiting for you in Chengdu."She scooped a bowl of chicken soup and sipped it, leaning against the stove as she gazed at those words, murmuring to herself, "Why didn't he go back to get some medicine or something? Who knows when Prince Kui will recover from his illness..."

At this point, she felt she was asking too much. Yu Xuan had no connection with Prince Kui—what right did she have to ask for his help?

Besides, now even between her and him, they were enemies—or perhaps, strangers.

After Li Shubai's fever subsided, the wounds on his back, though not fully healed, had at least scabbed over.

After several days of recuperation, the soldiers searching the mountains came sporadically, with a few reaching the vicinity of the ruined temple.

Li Shubai and she were examining a freshly picked green pomelo, debating how to accurately determine if it was ripe—whether by the color of its outer skin or the withering of its stem.

In the end, they couldn't reach a conclusion. Huang Zixiao glanced at the sky and decisively split the pomelo into eight pieces: "My prince, I think the best way to test it is to open it up!"

The pomelo, picked in late summer, was naturally sour and astringent. Li Shubai, who hated sourness the most, tossed all his pieces to Huang Zixiao. She sat on the corridor, slowly eating them, when suddenly she heard a faint rustling in the grass outside the door.

She jumped up and signaled to Li Shubai. Though still recovering from his illness, he reacted faster than her, immediately grabbing her sleeve as they both retreated behind the house.

Two soldiers in Xichuan Army uniforms approached, one old and one young. They searched the rooms inside. Both Li Shubai and Huang Zixiao were extremely alert, dodging them several times by hiding in corners and tall grass.

Fortunately, they had let Die E graze in the nearby woods, or else the soldiers would have spotted him and caused trouble.

The two soldiers sat in the front hall eating their rations. Huang Zixiao and Li Shubai leaned against the back wall, sharing a silent smile when they realized they hadn't been detected.

Only then did she notice how closely she was pressed against Li Shubai. In the quiet of the summer day, the warmth of his arm seeped through her sleeve onto her skin. This warmth seemed to flow into her veins, rushing up to her chest and finally making her face flush suddenly.

She shifted her shoulder slightly away and turned her face to the other side.

The surroundings were silent, with the intermittent chirping of late summer cicadas. The leaves above rustled in the wind, and the sunlight flickered over them, gathering and scattering unpredictably.

Huang Zixiao couldn't help but glance back at Li Shubai, watching the scattered light dance across his figure. Freshly recovered from his illness, he looked pale and slightly frail, making his breaths seem lighter than usual. Only the elegant curve of his profile remained, as refined as an ink painting.

Li Shubai also turned to look at her and whispered, "Sorry, I forgot for a moment."

She nodded, turning her gaze to the distant mountains without a word.

Then she heard his voice again, soft beside her ear: "It seems those two are indeed from the Xichuan Army."

"Hmm." What kind of assassin would be such an old and weak soldier? "Should we go down the mountain with them?"

Li Shubai leaned against the back wall, looking up at the sky, and said calmly, "I don’t want to owe Fan Yingxi this favor."Huang Zixiao knew this wasn't just a favor—it was an enormous debt of gratitude. How could Prince Kui Li Shubai, who had always maintained an aloof detachment from worldly affairs, possibly be willing?

Watching the two soldiers depart, he straightened up from leaning against the wall. "Let's go. We'll descend the mountain ourselves."

Huang Zixiao nodded, gathering some fruits they'd picked the previous day and hanging them on Die E's back.

Li Shubai mounted first, then extended his hand to her.

Having ridden together multiple times during their recent perilous days, she naturally took his hand and settled behind him on the horse.

Her arms encircled his waist, and she noticed his frame seemed leaner than before—the lines from his shoulders to his waist were firm yet noticeably thinner.

After days and nights of exhausting travel, with his severe injuries barely healed, this would have been the perfect opportunity to indulge in some weakness. Yet he still refused to owe anyone even the slightest debt of gratitude.

Then his accompanying her all this way to Shu Commandery... was probably just repayment for her past assistance to him...

As these thoughts crossed her mind, gazing at the endless mountain ranges before her, she suddenly felt the path ahead grow indistinct.

Li Shubai felt her arms stiffen around his waist and turned to look at her. They were so close that the wind lifted strands of their hair, nearly tangling them together beyond separation.

Noticing her distracted expression, he cautioned, "Be careful."

She nodded, then turned her gaze to the gradually emerging field paths in the distance. What did it matter anyway? Regardless of his reasons for accompanying her here, her sole purpose remained clearing her family's name and avenging them. Once everything came to light—she a helpless orphan girl, he a noble prince of imperial blood—what connection could possibly remain between them?

When they finally emerged beyond the layered green mountains, spotting grazing sheep on the slopes, neatly terraced fields, and scattered dwellings along the water's edge, both breathed sighs of relief.

Following the path, they eventually reached a small mountain village. Dusk was falling, with wisps of cooking smoke rising from rooftops, creating an exceptionally tranquil scene. As a prince, Li Shubai naturally carried no money, and Huang Zixiao was penniless. Fortunately, they still had some coins taken from their captives, which they used to buy food in the village and some secondhand clothes to wear.

This village was quite close to Chengdu Prefecture. After another half-day's travel, they finally arrived.

As they entered through the city gates, they noticed many constables and mounted troops gathering there, all looking disheveled with leaves and grass stuck to their clothes—clear signs they'd just returned from the mountains.

Bystanders watched the returning search parties and buzzed with discussion. One well-informed man eagerly told those around him, "I heard Prince Kui went missing on the road from Hanzhou to Chengdu! Yesterday morning some of his personal guards escaped back—apparently they were ambushed along the way, and now the prince's whereabouts are unknown!"

The listeners erupted: "What? Who would dare assassinate Prince Kui?"

Flushed with importance at their questions, the man continued, "When I delivered firewood to the governor's residence the day before yesterday, I overheard kitchen staff saying the attackers had Xuzhou accents! Who else from Xuzhou could it be but Pang Xun?"

"Pang Xun's long dead, and what few remnants of his faction remained have been nearly wiped out. How could they possibly pose any threat now?""Heh, haven't you heard about the reappearance of Pang Xun's vengeful spirit in the capital a few months ago, targeting a young lady from the Langya Wang family? They say the girl mysteriously vanished from the Daming Palace only to be found dead inside it later—utterly bizarre!" Another idler nearby, spraying saliva as he spoke, began weaving wild theories based on scattered rumors he'd heard. "Do you know who that girl killed by Pang Xun's ghost was? She was none other than Prince Kui's betrothed!"

The crowd expressed disbelief: "Wasn't that case already solved? I heard it was cracked by a eunuch named Yang from Prince Kui's residence. The culprit was the betrothed's maidservant—what does Pang Xun's ghost have to do with it?"

Hearing his claims challenged, the man's neck bulged with indignation: "How could they let word spread about a ghost haunting the Daming Palace—especially the rebellious Pang Xun's spirit? Those two maidservants were clearly scapegoats!"

Huang Zizang and Li Shubai exchanged glances, both seeing complex emotions in each other's eyes, unsure whether to commend the man for his insight.

Someone else asked: "So you're saying Prince Kui's recent assassination attempt was also the work of Pang Xun's ghost?"

"Obviously! Prince Kui's brilliance and martial prowess are unmatched in the realm—how could ordinary assassins so much as scratch him?" The man, now emboldened by having supporters, grew increasingly animated as if he'd witnessed it himself. "It must have been the evil ghost of Pang Xun causing trouble. Prince Kui just had a momentary lapse, allowing Pang Xun's remnants to succeed!"