The Golden Hairpin

Huang Zixiao felt utterly powerless to face the man before her. She silently turned her head away and asked, "What virtues does she possess that have earned your such admiration?"

"This story begins three years ago! I was fifteen then, and she was twelve. At fifteen, I still hadn’t figured out what I wanted to do with my life. I thought I’d end up like my older brothers—either buried in accounting at the Ministry of Works or drafting documents day after day at the Department of State Affairs. Everyone said my brothers were highly accomplished, but I didn’t see it that way. Life is so beautiful—why waste precious years drifting aimlessly in officialdom? And then, at the very moment I was most lost and uncertain about life, Huang Zixiao appeared!"

Seeing his eyes gleam under the moonlight, Huang Zixiao had the sudden urge to tear off a chicken wing and eat it, if only to vomit and relieve her mood.

Zhou Ziqin’s voice suddenly rose, clearly conveying his excitement: "And then, I suddenly found the purpose of my future life! Huang Zixiao was only twelve, just a girl, yet she was already helping the Ministry of Justice solve baffling cases, shining brilliantly for all to see. And me? What was I doing at twelve? What had I been doing for the past fifteen years? The moment I heard of her deeds, I suddenly understood the meaning of my life! I saw the broad road stretching before me! I saw the glorious future I was destined to achieve!"

Huang Zixiao finally couldn’t help interrupting him: "Haven’t you heard the rumors that Huang Zixiao killed her family and fled?"

"Absolutely impossible!" He shook the chicken leg in his hand, his expression resolute.

Since the incident, this was the first time she had encountered someone who believed in her so firmly. For a fleeting moment, she thought he might be a bit simple-minded, but Huang Zixiao still felt a faint stirring in her heart. Her gaze settled on his face as she asked, "Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why... do you believe in her?"

"Oh, because I think someone like Huang Zixiao, who has solved so many extraordinary cases, would surely devise a method completely undetectable if she really wanted to kill someone. How could she just brutally murder her family in such a straightforward way? That would be a disgrace to her reputation!"

Huang Zixiao silently turned her gaze back to the sky, feeling that the brief flicker of emotion she’d just experienced had been utterly wasted.

By the time Zhou Ziqin finished his roasted chicken, nearly an hour had passed. He pulled out a bag of melon seeds and handed half to her. This time, she didn’t refuse and quietly nibbled on a small handful.

The moonlight slanted westward, signaling the approach of the fourth watch. Zhou Ziqin retrieved the silver seals sealed in the mouths of the three corpses and found that only the one taken from the body suspected to be Feng Yiniang had turned black. After carefully scrubbing it with soapberries, he observed the stubborn grayish-black stain and said, "She definitely died of poisoning."

Huang Zixiao gave a quiet "Mm."

Feng Yiniang—a qin master from Yangzhou’s Yunsiao Pavilion, the instructing matron by the princess consort’s side—had collapsed among refugees in Youzhou, her cause of death poisoning. Yet the future princess consort, soon to marry into the Kui Prince’s household, claimed that the matron had returned to Yangzhou.

As she pondered this, Zhou Ziqin began examining the internal organs. "For thoroughness, let’s inspect the stomach and intestines as well."The intestines and stomach had been sliced open, mostly dried out from the fire but still utterly revolting. Even Zhou Ziqin, who usually had nerves as thick as chopsticks, couldn't quite handle it, turning his face away and only glancing sideways. When sealing the silver plaque, he suddenly exclaimed, "Huh?" as his fingers touched something cold and hard. He pulled it out, took a look, and his voice carried a hint of excitement, "Hey, Chonggu, come look at this!"

In his palm lay a tiny object that gleamed coldly under the moonlight. Huang Zixiang put on gloves, took it, and examined it carefully.

It was a small piece of mutton-fat jade, translucent and no bigger than a fingernail. Under the moonlight, she wiped away the blood and grime, holding it up to the light. A single tiny character was carved into it: "Nian."

The white jade shimmered in the moonlight, its hues shifting like rippling water across her vision. She stared at the flowing character "Nian" for a long time, lost in thought.

The white mutton-fat jade was placed before Li Shubai. He looked at the carved character but didn't reach for it, merely asking, "What is this?"

Huang Zixiang replied, "Pick it up and see for yourself."

Li Shubai didn't touch the small jade. Instead, he reached for the glass bottle on the desk, watching the little red fish swimming leisurely inside. "Touch something like this? What if it was dug out of a dead person's mouth?"

Huang Zixiang said earnestly, "No, it really wasn't taken from a dead person's mouth."

Only then did he extend his exceptionally elegant hands, pinching the jade between his thumb and forefinger to examine it. He read the character aloud, "Nian?"

"Nian, as in Chen Nianniang's 'Nian,'" she said.

He set the jade down, pondered for a moment, and asked, "Are you planning to give this jade to Chen Nianniang?"

"That would mean telling her about Feng Yiniang's death. Chen Nianniang would surely make a fuss and alert the suspect."

"Hmm, keep it safe for now." He handed the jade back to her. Huang Zixiang took the cloth originally used to wrap it, carefully bundled it up, and tucked it into her sleeve.

Li Shubai frowned slightly. "What puzzles me is why they were so careless as to leave such an important identifying item with Feng Yiniang."

"Because Feng Yiniang swallowed it before she died of poisoning."

As she spoke, Huang Zixiang noticed Li Shubai's eyelid twitch. She felt an inexplicable satisfaction and added, "Feng Yiniang's body was half-charred, but her internal organs were mostly intact. We dug it out from her stomach."

Li Shubai looked at his two fingers, then raised his eyes to Huang Zixiang standing before him. For the first time, a ripple of emotion crossed his usually impassive face.

Huang Zixiang met his gaze calmly. "Fortunately, we didn't disappoint you, Prince. Zhou Ziqin and I finished everything before dawn and restored the burial site. I guarantee no traces remain."

Li Shubai glanced at her indifferent expression, then back at his hand. Finally, he could bear it no longer. He grabbed the Longquan porcelain brush washer from the desk and began scrubbing his hands vigorously. "Huang Zixiang, you disappear right now too!"Although she had spent the entire night studying the corpse, the moment she saw Li Shubai lose his composure, Huang Zixiao felt that everything had been worth it. She happily ran back to catch up on sleep: "Yes! I obey the prince's command!"

Prince Kui Li Shubai's wedding was set for the sixteenth day of the fifth month.

On the sixth day of the fifth month, ten days before the wedding, Wang Ruo, following tradition, prepared to go to the Xianyou Temple in the outskirts to pray for blessings.

Xianyou Temple was renowned for its breathtaking scenery, and since the founding of the dynasty, several imperial consorts and noblewomen had visited the temple to offer incense, all with remarkably efficacious results. Thus, despite the many Buddhist temples in the city, making pilgrimages to Xianyou Temple had become a popular trend among the wives and daughters of court officials.

Wang Yun had previously informed Li Shubai, so with the intervention of Prince Kui's residence, Xianyou Temple was cleared early that day, with even young monks forbidden to leave their meditation rooms without reason. By mid-afternoon, the temple was completely free of any unrelated individuals.

Huang Zixiao, Su Qi, and a dozen or so maids from Wang Yun's residence accompanied Wang Ruo to offer incense. Xianyou Temple was vast, built into the mountainside. At the foot of the mountain, the front hall housed the smiling Maitreya Buddha, while further back stood the statue of Veda. The main hall, located halfway up the mountain, enshrined the Tathagata, Manjushri, and Samantabhadra. There was also the Western Amitabha Buddha alongside Mahasthamaprapta and Avalokiteshvara, as well as the Eastern Medicine Buddha with Suryaprabha and Chandraprabha. Additionally, there were the Eighteen Arhats and a hall dedicated to the Five Hundred Arhats.

They visited each hall, burning incense and kneeling in prayer one by one. By the time they finished worshiping at the main hall halfway up the mountain, Su Qi and the other maids were already exhausted. Seeing that the rear hall was still at the summit, they all collapsed in weariness.

Su Qi said, "I truly can't go on. Since there's no one else in the temple today, Yang Chonggu, you accompany the princess consort up there."

Huang Zixiao agreed, and the two of them ascended the steps, holding incense as they climbed.

The bluestone steps were dotted with moss. The two walked carefully, the temple silent around them, with only the occasional chirp of a bird. A snow-white bird flashed across the sky.

The bird soared through the air, disappearing into the mountain forests ahead. Following its flight, their gazes turned toward the rear hall at the summit—and then, suddenly, they saw the man standing at the entrance of the rear hall. His appearance was so abrupt, as if he had materialized from the white bird, appearing soundlessly.

Wang Ruo hesitated for a moment. Huang Zixiao gently tugged her sleeve and said, "Young Master Wang and the guards are all nearby. Don't worry."

Wang Ruo gave a soft acknowledgment, and the two climbed the last dozen or so steps to the entrance of the rear hall, raising their incense and bowing in reverence. The rear hall naturally enshrined Dipamkara, the Ancient Buddha of Light, with fragrant flowers and precious candles offered before the statue. Amid the curling smoke, even the banners seemed hazy.

Wang Ruo knelt before the Buddha, murmuring her prayers. Huang Zixiao glanced back at the man and saw him still standing outside the door. Beyond him stretched the pale green distant mountains and the azure sky, while he wore a robe of blue-green, as if melting into the background, appearing ethereal and distant.

He seemed to sense her gaze and turned to look at her through the swirling incense smoke. Suddenly, the corners of his lips lifted into a smile. His features were ordinary, just a man of plain and refined appearance, but this smile carried a gentle serenity, like the soft breath of a distant breeze.Huang Zixiao gave a slight nod in return to his greeting. As she lowered her gaze, she noticed he was holding a birdcage. Inside stood the same snow-white bird they had seen earlier. The bird seemed remarkably intelligent; sensing her gaze, it chirped and hopped about energetically within the cage.

Wang Ruo had also finished her prayers. Rising to her feet, she turned and followed Huang Zixiao’s gaze to the little bird.

The empty hall and its surroundings held only the three of them. The man lifted the birdcage, and the slanting sunlight cast his shadow across the hall, enveloping the two women like the outstretched wings of a giant bat in the night.

With a gentle smile, he asked, “What do you think of this little bird?”

“Is it yours? It seems very well-behaved,” Wang Ruo remarked curiously.

The bird, as if understanding her praise, hopped even more vivaciously in its cage, as though unwilling to stay still for even a moment.

“Indeed, it’s very well-behaved. Even if I open the cage and it flies into the mountains, it will return immediately upon hearing my call,” he said, extending two fingers to gently stroke the bird’s head. The bird affectionately rubbed its tiny head against his fingers.

Huang Zixiao led Wang Ruo toward the exit, eager to avoid unnecessary trouble. But as they passed the man, they heard him say, “After all, no matter how things may seem now, everything one has done and experienced in the past leaves a deep imprint on the heart. Even if you deceive everyone, you cannot deceive yourself.”

Huang Zixiao felt Wang Ruo stiffen slightly, her steps faltering.

“—Just like an invisible noose around the neck. The farther you try to escape, the tighter it becomes,” the man continued, though he clearly noticed Wang Ruo’s reaction. He merely smiled and added, “I’m speaking of this little bird, of course.”

Huang Zixiao turned to face him. “Do you know who stands before you? How dare you speak so insolently?”

“I know very well,” the man replied calmly, his tone composed and smiling. “If nothing unexpected happens, within ten days, she will become the Princess of Kui.”

“In that case, do not disturb the noble lady, lest you invite trouble.”

“It is not my intention to disturb her. I merely wish to show the princess something amusing.” He stepped closer, bowing deeply before them. With a flick of his sleeve over the birdcage, he set it down before them and looked up with a smile. “A trivial trick, merely to amuse the princess.”

In that brief moment, the lively little bird that had been hopping inside the cage had vanished. Before them stood only the empty cage, meticulously crafted from forty-eight slender purple bamboo strips.

Wang Ruo stared in shock, her gaze darting helplessly to Huang Zixiao, who remained silent, her eyes fixed on the man.

“Your Highness must be exceedingly cautious in the coming days. Otherwise, you may find yourself like this caged bird—no matter how tightly woven the bars, you could vanish in an instant.” The man smiled faintly at them before turning and walking back into the hall. As he left, they heard him chant loudly:

“A bird in a cage, gone in a flash.

Wealth and honor are but fleeting clouds,

Lost in a dream from which one cannot wake.”Under the setting sun, the distant toll of the temple bell accompanied the monks' evening prayers. The chanting of Buddhist hymns and the slanting rays of dusk enveloped them. The birdcage on the ground and their shadows stretched long, cast deep into the temple hall.

Huang Zitang turned and hurried inside, only to find the hall empty. When she looked back, Wang Ruo's face was as pale as a withered fallen flower.