The Golden Hairpin

Yu Xuan's palm was slender, with well-proportioned joints—an exceptionally elegant imprint.

She was staring at it in slight daze when she heard Li Shubai's voice, soft as a sigh: "I've seen this handprint before."

Huang Zixia was startled and asked quietly, "Your Highness has seen... his handprint?"

"What's so strange about that? As the Minister of Justice, though I usually delegate affairs to Chunzhan and don't interfere much, I review all finalized case files." He glanced at her and said indifferently, "Everyone's handprints are unique. The three main lines and countless finer lines on one's fingers remain largely unchanged from birth. That's why the law requires fingerprinting and palm prints—to prevent cunning troublemakers from exploiting loopholes."

"But... with so many palm prints, can Your Highness truly... remember them all after just a glance?" Huang Zixia asked incredulously.

Zhou Ziqin, overjoyed at the prospect of visiting Fenghua Street, immediately wagged his tail ingratiatingly: "His Highness is a genius, of course he remembers! Don't believe me? Let me prove it!"

With that, he pulled a sheet from the stack of case files Li Shubai had just reviewed, covering everything except a single palm print, and asked, "Your Highness, do you recall whose palm print this is?"

Li Shubai glanced at it and said, "Wu Jiying, a servant from the prefect's mansion responsible for sweeping the west courtyard and handling the gardener's tools."

Huang Zixia felt an overwhelming urge to prostrate herself before this man. To remember such details after just a quick glance—he was practically superhuman.

Her gaze fell on Yu Xuan's confession, and she hesitated before asking, "Then... where did Your Highness see Yu Xuan's handprint before?"

Li Shubai frowned, lost in thought. It wasn't until Zhang Xingying, having changed his clothes, came running and stood waiting outside the door that he suddenly let out a soft "Ah" and said, "Two years ago, when I first took on the role of Minister of Justice, I reviewed all case files from the past decade to familiarize myself with the work. His handprint appeared in a file from five years ago, concerning Guangdefang in Chang'an."

Huang Zixia pressed further, "And the rest?"

"He likely wasn't the criminal, but... I didn't pay much attention at the time, so I'm not entirely sure." He looked at her and spoke slowly.

Huang Zixia seemed deep in thought, her lips parting as if to say something, but she held back.

Without looking at her, he first fed two fish pellets to the small fish in the glass bowl on his desk. Watching it swallow them and remain as calm as ever, he finally said, "I'll take my leave now. If there are other leads, I'll let you know."

Huang Zixia sensed that he wasn't truly unable to remember—he must have his reasons for withholding the information.

As she pondered, a sudden flash of insight struck her, and she couldn't help but exclaim, "Your Highness..."

Li Shubai turned to look at her.

"That time... when we first met, inside the carriage..." She finally understood what had been puzzling her for so long, her heartbeat growing erratic. "You looked at my palm and immediately guessed my identity, recognized me as..."

Li Shubai smiled faintly and nodded. "Many case files bear your palm prints."

Huang Zixia couldn't help but laugh. "I knew it... How could anyone truly deduce a person's life just from their palm lines?"He saw Zhang Xingying and Zhou Ziqin had already stepped out of the entrance hall, while she stood close by, gazing at him with a radiant smile.

Perhaps driven by the faint surge of warmth in his chest—though he himself didn’t quite understand it—he raised his hand and lightly flicked her forehead, saying, "So wise in all things, yet foolish in this one moment."

She raised her hand to cover her forehead, laughing with a soft "Ah!"

They smiled at each other, but after a brief moment, as if suddenly realizing something, a hint of awkwardness crept in.

He turned his head away and hurriedly said, "I’m leaving."

"Yes..." She also lowered her head, not daring to raise it again.

Zhou Ziqin hadn’t the slightest clue why Huang Zixiao’s cheeks remained slightly flushed after leaving the military governor’s residence. His mind was entirely consumed by the excitement of venturing into the unknown, and he chattered eagerly, "See? I knew His Highness wouldn’t mind you visiting the pleasure quarters—after all, you’re just tagging along to broaden your horizons~"

By the time they reached Wutong Street, it was nearly dinnertime, and the sky had dimmed slightly.

Zhou Ziqin stood on Wutong Street, taking in the seemingly endless stretch of brothels and taverns, the streets alive with dazzling lights and revelry. Overjoyed, he exclaimed, "Chonggu, you know what? I’m absolutely thrilled right now!"

Huang Zixiao could only roll her eyes at him. "Let’s go."

The entertainment establishments on Wutong Street were all officially registered and operated openly. A few madams and pimps standing at the street corners boldly approached to solicit their business, boasting about the beauty of their girls.

Zhou Ziqin raised a hand with an air of righteousness to stop them. "Today, we’re here for the Night Roaming House."

"Aiyo..." Their faces instantly twisted in distaste. "Such fine-looking gentlemen, and yet you prefer that sort—well, the one with two old peach trees at the end of the alley is the place."

Contrary to their expectations, business at the Night Roaming House was quite lively. Upon entering, they saw many rooms already occupied by patrons drinking and enjoying music. A few singers stood out with exceptional voices, and Zhou Ziqin even paused to listen for a while, wearing the satisfied expression of someone who’d finally seen the world.

Huang Zixiao, maintaining her composure, asked the pimp who came to greet them, "Is Songfeng here?"

The pimp quickly replied, "Yes, yes, he’ll be right out. Will the two of you... just be needing one companion?"

Zhou Ziqin glanced at Huang Zixiao, who remained silent, and had no choice but to thump his chest. "Right, we... we prefer just one!"

Seeing that the two seemed rather particular, the pimp hurriedly went to inform Songfeng, who soon emerged, eagerly serving tea, lighting incense, and tuning the qin. Just as he was about to sing a "Song of Longing," Huang Zixiao stopped him and asked, "You’ve been here for quite a few years, haven’t you? What kind of guests do you usually entertain?"

Songfeng replied in a soft, delicate voice, "This humble one has been unfortunate, adrift in this world for six years now. I have many regular patrons, but rarely ones as distinguished and handsome as you two~" As he spoke, he leaned closer to her. Though Huang Zixiao was tall and slender, Songfeng was still a man, half a head taller than her. The sight of him lowering his gaze and leaning in with a demure, clinging demeanor was utterly incongruous.

Zhou Ziqin, with an air of solemnity, pulled him back and gestured for him to sit properly. Songfeng pouted in grievance and asked, "How much longer must the two of you dawdle?"Zhou Ziqin, brimming with righteous indignation, shouted, "I'm not here to waste time with you! I just want to ask you about that... that..."

At this point, he realized that in his eagerness to see the world, he had completely forgotten the reason for his visit. He could only cast a pitiful glance at Huang Zixiao.

Huang Zixiao said, "Actually, we're not here for entertainment. A friend of ours recently got into trouble, so we came to inquire about some matters—do you happen to know any prominent figures from Chengdu among your regular patrons?"

Song Feng immediately deflated, lazily leaning on the table with his chin propped in his hand as he looked at them. "Nonsense. My fame spreads far and wide—how could there be few admirers in Chengdu? To say nothing of others, even the Jiedushi's office has someone who favors me..."

Zhou Ziqin blurted out, "Judge Qi from the Jiedushi's office?"

Song Feng rolled his eyes at him. "Who's Judge Qi? I'm talking about..." He lowered his voice, his expression so boastful it nearly blinded the three of them. "You mustn't spread this around, but it's the son of Jiedushi Fan himself. He once favored me..."

Huang Zixiao silently recalled Fan Yuanlong's appearance, then took out the letter found in Qi Teng's room and handed it to Song Feng. "Did you write this?"

Song Feng glanced at it and nodded. "Yes."

"Do you remember who it was for?"

Song Feng looked troubled. "How would I know? This poem was written by some guy named Liu. I've probably copied it fifty or sixty times in bits and pieces. Many clients like to pretend to be cultured—as if bedding someone who can write poetry makes them classier."

Zhou Ziqin pressed, "Do you remember any of those people?"

Song Feng gave him a look as if he were an idiot. "Do you really think I would? Our clients, except for those from out of town who aren't afraid, usually sneak in quietly at night. Hardly any of them are willing to give their real names—most just say they're 'Li Jia,' 'Wang Da,' or 'Liu Er.' Only regulars who visit often might eventually share their names. Even the son of Jiedushi Fan only came with someone else, and I only vaguely pieced it together from their hints."

Huang Zixiao cut to the chase. "So, you actually don't know who you gave these to?"

"If you want one, I can write one for you too," Song Feng said with a laugh.

The thoroughly dismissed Zhou Ziqin persisted, "Think harder—maybe you've forgotten..."

"What about Wen Yang? Do you know him?" Huang Zixiao asked.

Song Feng perked up. "Oh, him? I do know him. He's been a regular for three or four years—different from the others. Oh, and he once said he loved my name the most—'The pine breeze loosens my sash, the mountain moon shines as I play the qin.' I play the qin quite well too. Would you like to hear?"

Huang Zixiao shook her head and asked, "So, he must have received this poem as well?"

Song Feng covered his mouth with a laugh. "Yes, indeed. I wrote this poem for him too. At the time, he shook his head after reading it and said, 'The difference between people is truly vast.' I was indignant and asked who I fell short of, but he just patted my hair and said, 'Even I can only look up to him—what are you thinking about?'"He spoke without any trace of gloom on his face, still grinning as he said, "I thought so too—I'm at the bottom of the social ladder. Who would think I'm better than anyone? He's not some high and mighty figure either, so why can't he have someone he admires?"

Huang Zixia silently lowered her gaze, lost in thought for a long while before turning to Zhou Ziqin, whose jaw had practically dropped in shock. "Let's go," she said.

Zhou Ziqin was still stunned. Seeing her already standing and walking away, he hurried after her, grabbing her sleeve urgently. "Chonggu, how can you stay so calm? Did you hear that? That Wen Yang who died for love—he, he liked men!"

"Yes, I know," Huang Zixia nodded.

Zhou Ziqin was frustrated. "You look so unfazed—you must have known all along! You never tell me anything. How are we supposed to stay good friends like this?"

Huang Zixia replied coolly, "You should have picked up on it when those poetry club members were talking."

"Huh? What did they say? I didn't notice anything!"

Huang Zixia sighed inwardly at Zhou Ziqin's obliviousness. Just as she was thinking, Songfeng rushed up from behind, grabbing their sleeves and shouting, "Don't leave—!"

Zhou Ziqin was baffled. Seeing Songfeng clinging to his arm, he shook him off impatiently. "What do you want?"

Unexpectedly, Songfeng was light and frail. With that shove, he crashed to the ground, his forehead scraping open. He immediately wailed, "Help! Someone help! These two guests drank tea without paying and tried to run off, and when I stopped them, they hit me!"

The enforcers of the Night Roaming Courtyard immediately charged out with clubs in hand. Huang Zixia and Zhou Ziqin quickly apologized, "We're sorry, we didn't know we had to pay for tea here—"

Before they could finish, several clubs came swinging down without hesitation.

Zhou Ziqin stepped forward, taking a blow meant for Huang Zixia. He grimaced in pain. "This is bad, Chonggu. Are we going to die here today?"

"Then reveal your identity!" Huang Zixia hissed.

"Reveal what? If my parents find out I used official duties as an excuse to visit a brothel, I'd rather die here!"