The Golden Hairpin

Before they could exchange a few words, several more men wielding clubs rushed out from the side. Zhou Ziqin, quick-witted in the crisis, shouted, "I have money! I'll pay, alright?"

"Money we'll take, but what about you beating up our boy? How can we let you off so easily? How would our Night Roaming House maintain its reputation on this street?" the brothel manager roared. The thugs immediately closed in, their clubs descending together.

Just as they crouched down covering their heads, at the critical moment, someone suddenly dashed in from outside. With a single sweeping kick, half of the men had their clubs sent flying, while the other half fell along with their weapons.

The man stood protectively before them—tall, imposing, and radiating an awe-inspiring presence.

Zhou Ziqin immediately cried out, "Second Brother Zhang! What are you doing here?"

Zhang Xingying glanced back at them. "His Highness said things have been unstable lately, and with all sorts of shady characters around here, it might not be safe. He asked me to protect you in secret."

Even as he spoke, his hands didn't stop moving, grabbing several thugs who had regrouped and tossing them aside.

Huang Zixiao, watching him display his skills, quickly brushed the dust off his clothes.

Zhou Ziqin, however, was stunned. "His Highness didn't seem to react at all? Didn't he seem like he wasn't paying attention to us? Thank goodness he secretly sent someone to protect us..."

Before he could finish, everyone around them had already cowered fearfully in the corners, not daring to move.

Only Songfeng jumped up, weeping and cursing angrily, "You heartless scoundrels! Eating and drinking for free and even trying to take advantage! We work day and night in this trade, earning every penny with blood and tears. Who knows the pain of selling our bodies like this..."

Listening to his tearful accusations, Zhou Ziqin felt his eyes sting. He hurriedly pulled out money while berating himself, "I'm a scoundrel, I'm a bastard..."

Huang Zixiao was too exhausted to react. He slunk out with Zhang Xingying and asked, "Where's His Highness? Did he go alone?"

"Yes, he said he'd be fine, but that your safety was more important, Lord Yang," Zhang Xingying quickly replied. "But I secretly followed him to the flower hall and saw that several military governors had arrived before I dared to leave."

Huang Zixiao sighed and said, "Let's go."

A disheveled Zhou Ziqin also emerged and asked, "Shall we head back?"

"No, we still need to visit the other brothels and ask around." With that, Huang Zixiao led them to the nearby establishments to continue their inquiries. Having learned their lesson, they now knew that even tea and conversation required payment here. Handing over silver upfront when meeting the ladies made the conversations go much smoother.

Changchun Court's Juanjuan: "Qi Teng? Oh, we don't have a guest by that name... Lord Wenyang? Oh yes, yes! He's such a kind man, generous with his money and so eloquent—all the sisters adore him! You mean this poem I wrote? Oh, stop it! I've written dozens of copies this year to give out, of course Lord Wenyang got one too! Fu Xinruan? Lady Fu's reputation is unmatched on Wutong Street—everyone knows her! A few of us sisters went to visit her once and managed to get her to choreograph a dance for us. It's our signature performance now—would you like to see it?"Fragrant Red Tower's Lanlan: "Lord Wenyang? Ugh, all us sisters know about him—he has a string of lovers outside! Last time he promised to bring me rouge from Manchunji but completely forgot! If he hadn't made it up to me with a hairpin, I wouldn’t have spoken to him again! That poem? I copied it many times and gave it to people. Whether it’s good or not, I don’t know, but everyone says it’s excellent. Lady Fu Xinyuan? I know her. My friend Cuicui, who’s skilled in the qin, went to her for guidance. Now Cuicui’s performances fetch double the price!"

Zhangtai Pavilion's Yuanyuan: "Really, I wrote that poem myself—don’t compare it to those ghostwritten ones. As for Lord Wenyang, sure, he can write poetry, but he never leaves his own handwriting. Here, let me recite one he gave me: 'Jade pendants loosened on the hibiscus terrace, / Snowy arms stretched in the gilded tent. / The wild geese’s cries fade past the gauze window— / When shall I breathe your orchid musk again?' In my ten years in this trade, I’ve never met anyone who writes such vulgar, disgusting verses! Lady Fu Xinyuan? I’ve heard of her too. Many go to her for advice on song and dance. Last year, Juanjuan from Changchun Garden became the star of the entire street and won the courtesan title, all because Lady Fu helped choreograph her dance."

Yaotai Pavilion's Xiaoyu: "Lord Wenyang is quite considerate. He doesn’t visit often, but when he does, he’s all warmth and concern. He’s really quite kind. Last year, when I was ill for months, he even sent me some money. If I hadn’t already had another lover, I’d have let him redeem me... Oh, Lady Fu Xinyuan wrote a song for us. It’s very popular with our guests now—would you like to hear it?"

"Visiting brothels is exhausting."

By midnight, Zhou Ziqin finally returned to the yamen, collapsing onto the hall floor with only enough energy to utter those words.

The constables resting in the duty room exchanged glances before snickering. Azhuo sidled up to them and asked, "Half the night spent—any leads?"

Huang Zixiang didn’t look up, sorting through the testimonies they’d collected that evening. "Almost there."

Zhou Ziqin, who had been lying there half-dead, suddenly jolted upright on the stool. "Almost there? What’s almost there?"

"The case. It’s almost solved," she said calmly.

Zhou Ziqin immediately cried out, "I still don’t know anything! And you’re saying it’s almost solved? What’s going on?"

Seeing him break into a sweat, Huang Zixiang replied, "Well, not entirely. I just have a vague suspicion, but I still need solid evidence."

Zhou Ziqin gaped. "Then tell me—who do you suspect?"

Huang Zixiang avoided answering and instead called toward the door, "Fugui!"

The scrawny, ugly dog dashed in like an arrow, barking twice at her and wagging its stubby tail half-heartedly.

Huang Zixiang studied the dog silently. When it showed no reaction, she turned back to Zhou Ziqin and sighed. "So, a suspicion is just a suspicion. There are still things I can’t figure out."

Zhou Ziqin stared at Fugui for a long time before suddenly understanding. "You suspect... that my bracelet was poisoned?""Hmm, so when you reached for that rice cake with the hand that had taken the bracelet, Qi Teng stopped you and threw your cake away." Huang Zixiao frowned and said, "But now it seems... nothing happened after all. He might have just said it casually."

"I need to investigate this thoroughly!" Zhou Ziqin quickly took out the bracelet from his pocket, turning it over in his hands and holding it up to the lamplight against the wall.

The translucent jade patterns cast a glow on his face, the radiant light eerily beautiful.

"Alright, I should head back now." Huang Zixiao had been running around all day making inquiries and spent half the night questioning people on Wutong Street. She was starting to feel exhausted.

As she stood up abruptly, she felt a wave of dizziness—likely from overexertion.

She sat back down in the chair, took two pieces of pear syrup candy from her sleeve, ate them, and sat quietly for a while.

Zhou Ziqin asked with concern, "Are you alright?"

"Oh, the physician said I have a deficiency in qi and blood, so I get dizzy when I overwork myself." As she spoke, she handed him the candy pouch. "Want some?"

Zhou Ziqin grabbed a piece and munched on it, then said, "This kind of thing usually only happens to women, right? I remember Gongsun Dayang's younger sister, Yin Luyi—Yin Siniang—also had a qi and blood deficiency. She ate candy too, but I think malt sugar isn’t as good as snowflake candy. Plus, it’s sticky and hard to carry around—always ends up clinging to clothes."

"Yeah, you have to wrap it in rice paper to keep it from sticking to things," Huang Zixiao remarked offhandedly.

Zhou Ziqin chewed on the snowflake candy and said, "But her hands were so skilled—the malt sugar carvings she made were incredibly lifelike. My sister still has that malt sugar tiger she made."

Huang Zixiao nodded in response, then suddenly froze, sitting motionless for a long while, her eyes wide open.

Zhou Ziqin waved his hand in front of her face and called, "Chonggu, what are you thinking about?"

She brushed his hand away and said, "Let me think for a moment."

Seeing her serious expression, Zhou Ziqin quickly stuck out his tongue and shrank back, watching her quietly.

Huang Zixiao pressed a hand to the hairpin on her head, pulled the jade pin out from the silver one, and began slowly drawing on the table.

Zhou Ziqin rested his chin on his hand and watched as she first sketched the shape of a flowering tree, then emphasized the trunk and its sprawling branches. Finally, she outlined the silhouette of a robe around the tree.

Baffled, he watched as the tip of the hairpin left faint white marks on the wooden table. The robe had a fitted waist and wide sleeves, billowing as if in the wind—it looked strangely eerie. He couldn’t help but ask, "Chonggu, what is this?"

"It’s the key to solving this case," she said, slowly sliding the hairpin back into the silver one. Then she frowned and added, "But... something’s not right. If this is the case, then where did the missing murder weapon go?"

Zhou Ziqin nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Speaking of which, in the case of Judge Qi’s death, that murder weapon still hasn’t been found. The constables have practically turned the lotus pond inside out, uprooted the nearby bushes, and examined every single branch—but they still haven’t found anything."

"Did they search the musicians’ instruments and Gongsun Yuan’s props and such?" Huang Zixiao asked.Zhou Ziqin declared with absolute certainty, "We searched immediately! There was definitely no issue! We checked for hidden items and everything—there was truly nothing!"

Huang Zixiang leaned back in her chair and let out a long sigh. After a long pause, she finally said, "Tomorrow. When the daylight is stronger, we'll go examine the scene again."

Zhou Ziqin thought for a moment and suggested, "Why don't you stay overnight at the prefectural office tonight instead of going back to the military governor's residence?"

Huang Zixiang frowned slightly. "Wouldn't that... be inconvenient?"

"What's inconvenient about it? It's exhausting for you to go back and forth every night. And it's tiring for me to run to the military governor's residence to find you too. Let's just—Zhang Er-ge," Zhou Ziqin turned to Zhang Xingying, "you go back first and inform His Highness that Chonggu is too tired tonight and will stay at the prefectural office since we still have the case to investigate tomorrow. Once we make progress, he'll return immediately to attend to His Highness's orders."

Zhang Xingying hesitated, glancing between Zhou Ziqin and Huang Zixiang. "This... Eunuch Yang, what do you think?"

Huang Zixiang nodded silently. "Yes, I'll rest here tonight. No need to trouble myself with going back and forth."

Seeing her agreement, Zhang Xingying acknowledged and turned to leave.

Zhou Ziqin was also exhausted. He stood up, swaying slightly as he headed toward his own courtyard. "Chonggu, why don't you sleep with me tonight?"

Huang Zixiang's eyelids twitched, and she nearly tripped over the threshold. "No!"

"Huh? I was hoping we could share a bed and talk all night!" Zhou Ziqin complained, clearly dissatisfied. "I've always wished for a friend like this since I was a kid! But I've never found anyone willing to sleep with me... Come on, Chonggu, help me fulfill this wish!"

"I really can't fulfill this one," Huang Zixiang gritted her teeth, refusing to budge. "I have terrible sleeping habits—grinding teeth, kicking off blankets, tossing and turning, thrashing around, even sleepwalking. If you don’t want to be strangled in your sleep, go ahead and share a bed with me."

"What... I never would’ve guessed you’re so terrifying when you sleep." Zhou Ziqin scratched his head, then reluctantly conceded. "Fine, I have plenty of empty rooms anyway. You can take the one on the east side. The window faces a wall, but the creeping figs are just starting to grow, hanging right outside—it’s quite charming."

Huang Zixiang, so familiar with the prefectural office, immediately realized he was referring to the West Garden.

Behind the West Garden lay the garden pond, filled with blooming lotuses. The courtyard walls were covered in creeping figs and vines. In the past, she had loved reading here. On summer evenings, she would curl up barefoot beneath the veranda, nestled among the vines, often as a sudden downpour turned the lotus leaves upside down and sent the figs tumbling to the ground.

The wild wind lashes the lotus waters, the heavy rain batters the fig-covered walls.

Back then, Yu Xuan would always sit beside her, picking up the fallen figs to play with, exchanging meaningless yet delightful words that whiled away entire afternoons.

This was Yu Xuan’s residence—the quietest place in the estate.

And once, it had been her favorite place too.