The Golden Hairpin

Huang Zixiang followed Zhou Ziqin down the corridor draped with creeping fig vines until they reached the easternmost room. Zhou Ziqin pulled A Mo over and said, "Tonight, if you need anything—bedding, washing your feet, or fetching water for washing up in the morning—just call him. If he doesn’t do a good job, give him a hard time!"

Huang Zixiang recalled how Zhou Ziqin had nearly been crushed by the bronze statue while these two remained unfazed, casually playing cat's cradle. She thought to herself, Fat chance. How many years have you been giving him a hard time? When has he ever cared?

Fortunately, she was quite familiar with the place. She instructed A Mo to fetch bedding from the cabinet and make the bed for her, then picked out two new towels and had A Mo bring a bucket of hot water from the kitchen.

A Mo was naturally lazy, but since she was someone close to Prince Kui, he didn’t dare slack off. He hurriedly served tea, brought water, made the bed, and folded the blankets—far more diligent than when attending to Zhou Ziqin.

After closing the door, Huang Zixiang washed her face and feet, wiped herself down, and felt the exhaustion of the day’s travels wash over her. Lying in bed, she wondered if returning to this familiar place would keep her awake. But sleep came swiftly, and before long, she was deep in slumber.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when she saw her parents and older brother beckoning her over.

She hurried forward but immediately felt something off about the way she walked. Looking down, she realized she was wearing a pleated skirt embroidered with crabapple branches—not the attire of a eunuch. If she hadn’t been careful, she might have tripped over the hem.

Delighted, Huang Zixiang lifted her skirt and ran toward them. The family sat together in harmony, surrounded by an indistinct void where she could see nothing beyond the small circle they occupied. They gathered around a stone table beneath a fragrant osmanthus tree in full bloom, its rich scent enveloping them.

Everyone was chatting happily, but Huang Zixiang couldn’t understand a word. So she simply clung to her mother’s arm, pressing her cheek against it as she used to, smiling at everyone.

She didn’t know what they were saying, but since everyone was happy, she kept smiling. Osmanthus blossoms fell one by one onto their heads, shoulders, and the stone table, piling up in golden brilliance.

Perhaps the fragrance was too intoxicating, the joy too overwhelming. Huang Zixiang leaned against her mother, laughing, until she gradually grew dazed. Still smiling, she closed her eyes, letting the osmanthus blossoms and sunlight fall upon her.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before the warm sunlight and sweet osmanthus scent vanished. Unsure of where she was, she opened her eyes and looked around.

The same blank whiteness remained, the same small circle of visibility. Her parents and brother now lay on wooden planks, covered with white cloth, silently resting on the brick floor.

Not a sound. Everything around her had frozen.

She stared at her family’s corpses, standing at an uncertain distance, petrified. She forgot to breathe, her heart seemed to stop. She had no idea how long she stood there motionless before a thought suddenly struck her: It’s a dream. I’ve fallen into this nightmare again.

As if a spell had broken, her eyes flew open, and she woke with a start.

The dream shattered before her, leaving nothing behind—except the sharp, suffocating pain in her chest.She clutched her chest, breathing heavily as she stared wide-eyed at her surroundings.

The familiar furnishings, the scenery from her memories. Even the patterns carved into the beams were identical to those she remembered.

She had returned—returned to the Governor's Mansion of Chuanshu Commandery, to the place where she had spent the most beautiful years of her life, and also to the place that had brought her the greatest pain.

Gripping the quilt tightly, her hands and body trembled violently, as if every muscle in her body was convulsing. She took deep, ragged breaths, and gradually, the darkness before her eyes receded, the ringing in her ears faded, and she finally felt alive again.

The only sounds were the chirping of birds flitting among the branches—nothing else.

Dazed, she sat up in bed and pushed open the window to look outside. The sun was already high, and dewdrops glistened on the lush ivy vines outside her window, refracting the sunlight into a dazzling array of colors. In the distance, she could see a corner of the lotus pond, where the last few blossoms of summer still lingered.

Huang Zixia stared blankly out the window, gazing at the Governor's Mansion, at the years that had once been so beautiful to her, and at the girlhood that was now forever lost to her.

After a long while, she shook her head, pushing all those thoughts aside for now. She told herself, "Huang Zixia, don’t you dare become the kind of weak-willed person you despise the most. There’s only one thing you can do now. There’s only one path ahead of you. There’s only one destination you can reach."

After washing up with the leftover water from the night before, she opened the door and stepped outside.

Standing under the eaves of the eastern wing, the sunlight was blinding. Across the courtyard, in the open doors and windows of the western flower hall, she immediately spotted three people sitting there having breakfast.

Facing her was Zhou Ziqin, waving a steamed bun at her enthusiastically. "Chonggu, hurry over! You must be hungry, right?"

To his left and right, the unmistakable profiles of Li Shubai and Zhang Xingying.

She quickly crossed the courtyard to greet Li Shubai. "Your Highness, what brings you here so early in the morning?"

"I heard the Governor's Mansion serves exceptional pastries, so I deliberately skipped breakfast at the military governor’s residence to come and sample them," Li Shubai replied, holding a small bowl of porridge.

Huang Zixia nodded and took a seat at the empty side of the small square table. As she ladled herself some egg drop soup, she said, "Indeed, several of the mansion’s cooks are quite renowned in Shu Commandery. Especially the pastry chef, Mistress Zheng—she and her two assistants are truly masters of their craft."

Zhou Ziqin looked at her in confusion. "How do you know that? Even I didn’t know..."

"Have you forgotten we conducted an investigation of everyone in the mansion before?" Li Shubai asked calmly.

Zhou Ziqin immediately looked impressed. "Your memories are incredible!"

Zhang Xingying kept his head down, slurping his porridge and eating his steamed bun as if he hadn’t heard a thing.

Li Shubai turned to Huang Zixia. "You’ve been working hard these past few days. Any progress on the case?"

She set down her soup and replied, "At this point, Qi Teng’s death seems to be connected to the double suicide of Fu Xinruan and Wen Yang, as well as Tang Zhuniang’s murder."

Li Shubai glanced at Zhou Ziqin and asked, "And what about the massacre that happened here in the Governor's Mansion before?"

After a brief pause, Huang Zixia answered, "There may be no connection.""I think there is a connection," Li Shubai said unhurriedly, ignoring Zhou Ziqin's bewildered stare. "I heard Yu Xuan is also implicated in this case. So, several cases are linked together by the same person, aren't they?"

Huang Zixiao nodded silently and said, "Yes, he has undeniable ties to all the cases and all the victims."

"So, what do you plan to do?" he asked again.

Huang Zixiao leaned back in her chair, thinking quietly for a moment before replying, "I will pay him a visit."

Zhou Ziqin immediately suggested, "Let's go see him today!"

"Mm," Huang Zixiao agreed, then seemed to remember something and turned to Zhang Xingying. "Second Brother Zhang, I recall that on the day you were in danger and met Jing Yu, you fell off the cliff after being hit by someone on horseback?"

"It wasn’t exactly a hit, but when he suddenly appeared around the cliff’s bend, he didn’t rein in his horse at all. The galloping horse charged straight at me, startling me so much that I lost my footing and slipped off the cliff," Zhang Xingying quickly stuffed the remaining half of his bun into his mouth and swallowed before continuing, "So, he might not have done it on purpose, but he was definitely the reason I fell."

Zhou Ziqin looked confused. "What does Tang Zhuniang’s death have to do with Second Brother Zhang falling off the cliff?"

"Do you remember? During those days when Prince Kui was missing, the Western Sichuan Army blocked all roads in and out of the mountain paths for search and rescue operations. No carriages or horses were allowed in. That’s why Tang Zhuniang had to walk home—she couldn’t hire a cart. Second Brother Zhang was also walking along the mountain path when he was hit."

Zhou Ziqin’s eyes widened. "Chonggu! Are you saying... the person who ordered the blockade is suspicious?"

"Who would set up such an elaborate scheme just to block a road?" Huang Zixiao was exasperated. "What I mean is, since carriages and horses had been banned for days, how was that person able to ride a horse on the mountain path when he hit Second Brother Zhang?"

Zhou Ziqin suddenly understood and slapped the table. "An assassin! It must have been one of the assassins who attacked the prince! They were trapped in the mountains and couldn’t leave, so they were still riding around on horseback!"

Even Li Shubai couldn’t help but turn his head away in disbelief.

Huang Zixiao, having more patience with Zhou Ziqin, pressed on, "If that were the case, wouldn’t the Western Sichuan Army patrols have spotted him galloping recklessly on the path? And why wasn’t there any news about an assassin being caught?"

Zhou Ziqin gasped, then leaned in cautiously and whispered, "Are you implying... the assassin was someone the Western Sichuan Army knew?"

Huang Zixiao finally couldn’t take it anymore. She pressed her palm to her forehead and dropped her elbow heavily onto the table. "Brother Ziqin, what I mean is, the most likely explanation is that the person riding recklessly on the mountain path was either a member of the Western Sichuan Army or at least someone they knew."

Zhou Ziqin blinked his big eyes, still not understanding how this related to solving the case.

Huang Zixiao turned back to Zhang Xingying. "Do you remember what the rider looked like?""Uh... because the horse came too fast, charging straight at me, and I fell immediately, so I didn't get a clear look," Zhang Xingying answered honestly.

Huang Ziyao then asked, "But based on the figure's build, did it resemble Yu Xuan?"

Zhang Xingying immediately shook his head. "Scholar Yu is my benefactor, and I've seen him many times. I felt that person bore no resemblance to him at all."

Huang Ziyao turned to Li Shubai and said, "So, although Yu Xuan is connected to these cases, he isn't familiar with the Western River Army. It's unlikely he could have ridden in at that time. Therefore, the possibility of his involvement in Tang Zhuniang's death should be minimal."

Li Shubai frowned and said, "Even if Yu Xuan isn't linked to Tang Zhuniang's death, he is undeniably a key figure in the cases involving Fu Xinruan, Qi Teng, and—the bloodshed at the prefect's residence. You can't ignore that."

Huang Ziyao remained silent for a long while before nodding. "Yes, I will pay special attention to him."