The Golden Hairpin

The horizon was already ablaze with the fiery hues of dawn, streaks of clear, radiant red light slanting across the sky. Huang Ziyao urged her horse forward anxiously, finally catching up with the entourage of the prince's guards just as the city gates came into distant view.

At the Mingde Gate of Chang'an, the five grand passageways originally had the middle three closed, with only the two smaller side gates open. But upon the arrival of the prince's procession, the second gate on the left was immediately opened for passage, let alone any inspection of the retinue.

Huang Ziyao trailed at the very end, following the group slowly into the city. As she passed through the gate, she glanced up at the wanted posters pasted by the entrance.

The poster depicted a girl of about sixteen or seventeen, with eyes as bright as morning stars and cheeks as delicately curved as peach petals, smiling faintly ahead. The upward curve of her lips formed an especially playful and adorable arc, her expression lively, her brows clear and lifted—a strikingly beautiful young girl.

Beside the portrait were several lines of text:

"Huang Ziyao of Shu, wanted for multiple murders, guilty of heinous crimes. All prefectures and counties are to apprehend her on sight, dead or alive."

Huang Ziyao lowered her lashes, but only for a fleeting moment before raising her head again, her gaze steady and expression composed.

Most of her face was hidden beneath her helmet, and even Brother Lu beside her couldn't see her clearly. As he guided his horse along the Zhuque Avenue, he said, "Lucky no one noticed."

Huang Ziyao nodded without a word.

The mansions of the nobility were mostly located in Yongjia Lane. Passing the East Market and heading north along the Xingqing Palace, the Kui Prince's residence came into distant view.

As agreed beforehand with Brother Zhang, once inside the prince's residence, after securing the horses in the stable, she would slip away quietly. By then, everyone would be having breakfast in the stable's front courtyard, and no one would pay her much attention.

After tying up her horse, she turned and hurried toward the courtyard exit when someone called out, "Zhang Xingying, not eating?"

Huang Ziyao pretended not to hear, slipping out by the gate.

Brother Lu behind her explained on her behalf, "Probably another stomachache. She's already been twice this morning."

After a few mocking remarks, the group paid her no further mind and went to eat the prepared breakfast.

Huang Ziyao crept to the gate, pulling her helmet lower as she stepped outside.

Just as Huang Ziyao's foot landed on the last step of the stairs, someone suddenly called out from behind her, "Hey, where are you going?"

Unsure if the call was directed at her, Huang Ziyao hesitated mid-step. Then the voice came again, clearly addressing her: "Yes, you, the one from the procession. There's new orders—the newly built detached palace is short on hands. You lot are to accompany His Highness there."

Huang Ziyao's heart sank. She hadn't expected her luck to be this bad.

The man continued cheerfully, "Don't worry, you'll get an extra three qian of silver per day. Happy, aren't you? Go back and eat now. We'll be setting off soon."

With no choice, Huang Ziyao slowly turned around, bowing her head in deference to the officer who had stopped her, then edged along the wall back to the stable's front courtyard. Breakfast was out of the question—if anyone saw her face, it would all be over. Yet she couldn't stay in the prince's residence either; being spotted there would be just as disastrous. And above all, she had to get out—to find the one person who could help her—She stood in the corner, her gaze falling on the carriage that had been unhitched and leaned against the wall. Blinking, she looked around. The front courtyard was bustling with people eating, while those in the back were busy feeding the horses. The corner by the entrance was deserted—only she and that carriage stood there.

Stepping onto the carriage shaft, she carefully peered through the slightly ajar door. As expected, there was no one inside, only the spacious seat and a fixed tea table. The seat was covered with a blue-green brocade cushion adorned with dragon patterns, complementing the crimson peonies on the dark purple Persian rug beneath. The luxurious yet elegant setup was newly arranged, unlikely to be removed anytime soon.

Huang Zixiang quickly removed her outer uniform and helmet behind the carriage, stuffing them into a corner behind a stone lantern before climbing inside.

The carriage offered little space, but beneath the seat was surely a hollow area, typically converted into a storage compartment. She crawled in and lifted the hanging fabric curtain—indeed, there was a cabinet underneath.

The cabinet doors were intricately carved with auspicious clouds and mythical beasts, designed to slide open sideways. When she pushed them apart, her heart leapt with delight—inside were only a few pieces of incense, leaving the rest of the space empty.

She curled herself tightly into the cabinet, gently closing the doors behind her. Nervous sweat dampened her skin. Fortunately, the doors were latticed, and the fabric curtain in front obscured the gaps, allowing her only faint glimpses of the outside.

Not daring to breathe loudly, Huang Zixiang lay still, her heartbeat rapid. Countless thoughts raced through her mind—what if she was taken to the detached palace? Were the stables there heavily guarded? Could she seize a chance to escape?

Before she could settle on a plan, sounds arose outside—horses being harnessed, clothes being straightened, people lining up. Then, sudden silence fell, not even a cough to be heard. As she pondered, the carriage shifted slightly, the door creaked, and someone stepped inside.

Through the cabinet’s slits, she could only see the person’s feet—black leather boots embroidered with golden dragon patterns, stepping soundlessly onto the thick, soft rug.

Once the person settled in, the carriage swayed slightly and began moving.

Trapped in the cabinet for so long, the rocking motion made her feel like a chick forced back into its shell. Huang Zixiang fought against the dizziness, forcing herself to slow her breathing to avoid detection.

Thankfully, the clatter of wheels and hooves drowned out the sound of her pounding heart and breaths.

The journey was long, but they eventually passed through the city gates, heading toward the western outskirts. The carriage jolted along the way until, upon reaching a small bridge, the Prince of Kui finally spoke: "Stop."

The carriage slowly halted by the bridge. From her hiding spot, Huang Zixiang couldn’t see the prince’s face, only his hand reaching for a wide-mouthed glass bottle on the tea table. He passed it out the window, saying, "Add some water."

Inside the bottle swam a small, vividly red fish, its long, gauzy tail drifting lazily. The faint blue tint of the glass turned the fish’s crimson into a peculiar lavender hue, creating an oddly enchanting sight.

A flicker of curiosity arose in Huang Zixiang’s mind—why would the all-powerful Prince of Kui carry a glass bottle with a tiny red fish wherever he went?The sound of flowing water reached her ears, followed by the hurried footsteps of the guards. Soon, they refilled the glass bottle and handed it over. Prince Kui took the bottle and gently placed it on the small table. The fish inside now had more space to swim and darted about even more joyfully.

Huang Zixiang was deep in thought when the carriage suddenly started moving again. Caught off guard, her forehead slammed against the cabinet door with a loud thud.

She bit her lip hard to stifle any cry. Though she was certain the sound she made was faint and would likely be drowned out by the rumbling wheels, she still nervously peered through the cabinet's cracks to check outside.

From her angle, she couldn’t see the face of the person sitting there. Only through the tassels of the brocade cushion and the carved openings could she see him slowly reach for the celadon teacup on the table and pour himself a cup of water.

Huang Zixiang observed him through the cabinet’s intricate carvings. Against the backlight, she could see his hands—well-proportioned, with elegantly defined knuckles, the hands of someone accustomed to luxury yet undeniably strong. He held the teacup with three fingers, the jade-green cup cradled in his pale hand like spring water reflecting pear blossoms.

Then, in one swift motion, he kicked open the cabinet door below and splashed the cup of water inside.

Huang Zixiang, who had been secretly watching, gasped as the water hit her eyes, letting out a low cry of surprise.

He tossed the teacup aside, grabbed her shoulders, and dragged her out. His right hand pressed against her throat while his left foot pinned her chest.

In an instant, Huang Zixiang lay sprawled beneath him like a dead fish—remarkably, without him even needing to rise from his seat.

Staring up at him from the floor, she was momentarily dazed, unable to comprehend what had just happened, her expression blank with shock.

She saw the face of the man who had subdued her—deep, dark eyes, a straight and prominent nose, and thin lips that naturally conveyed an air of cold detachment from the world. He wore a robe the color of rain-cleared skies, embroidered with subtle cloud patterns in a soft blue. Yet, despite the gentle hues and designs, his demeanor made them seem distant and austere. In his careless grace, one could only feel that such aloof transcendence was the perfect complement to his refined elegance.

Li Zi, Prince Kui, courtesy name Shubai—the most outstanding figure in the imperial family, so much so that even the current emperor had praised him, saying, "The world is less lonely with Shubai in it." Rumored to be the epitome of nobility and privilege, who would have guessed his aura would be so chilling?

Li Shubai lowered his lashes and slightly lifted his foot from her chest. Sensing she had no martial skills, his left hand lingered briefly on her neck, confirming its softness and the absence of an Adam’s apple.

Huang Zixiang quickly raised her hand to swat his palm away from her throat, curling up defensively. Her bright, dewy eyes burned with intensity as she glared at him, like a young beast cornered by a hunter.

Li Shubai’s gaze slowly settled on her face, studying her for a long moment. Then he withdrew his foot, opened the drawer of the small table, and took out a snow-white silk handkerchief. After wiping his hands, he tossed it onto the figure before him, his voice laced with disdain. "As a woman, you could at least keep yourself clean."

The handkerchief drifted down onto her like a slow, silent cloud. She clenched her fingers, her initial shame eclipsed by a surge of indignation at being exposed. She looked up at him, lips parting, but no words came out.All the way from Shu to Chang'an, she had concealed herself flawlessly, with no one ever suspecting she was impersonating a man. Yet now, he had seen through her at a glance, and was scrutinizing her with such disdainful eyes.

Fleeing through the night and enduring days of relentless travel had indeed left her haggard. Her clothes, dried and dampened repeatedly, clung to her in crumpled disarray, barely recognizable from their original state. Her face was gaunt and pale, her hair disheveled and tangled—utterly wretched.

The commotion inside had already been noticed. Someone outside lightly tapped the carriage wall: "Your Highness."

He responded with an "Mm," and said, "It's nothing."

Silence resumed outside. The carriage continued its smooth journey as he asked indifferently, "When did you get in? Why are you hiding in my carriage?"

Her lashes fluttered slightly as a flurry of excuses raced through her mind. In an instant, she settled on the most concise and plausible one before her. Feigning shyness, she lowered her gaze, lightly biting her lower lip, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks as she whispered, "I... I’m the cousin of Zhang Xingying from Your Highness’s retinue. He had a severe stomachache in the outskirts today and feared delaying his duties would earn him a military punishment. By chance, my family lives nearby, and when I passed by and saw him, he asked me to disguise myself as him to report for duty."

"Then how did you end up in my carriage?"

"Because... because I was supposed to slip away once we reached the palace, but I was stopped and told to accompany the party to the detached palace. But I knew I’d be exposed the moment others saw me. In desperation, I had no choice but to resort to hiding in Your Highness’s carriage, hoping to escape unnoticed. Who knew... I’d be caught red-handed..." Her expression was one of embarrassment and timidity, as though she had mustered great courage to speak these words, projecting the image of an inexperienced and flustered girl.

"That sounds reasonably plausible," he remarked coolly, reclining against the brocade cushion. "So, what is your surname?"

Her heart sank slightly, but her face betrayed no hesitation. "My surname is Yang."

"Yang?" He scoffed, not even sparing her a glance. "Zhang Xingying, second in his family, stands six feet one inch tall, is left-handed, and was born in the second year of Dazhong in Puning Ward of the capital. His father, Zhang Weiyi, originally from Luoyang, has been practicing medicine at Duanrui Hall in the capital since the second year of Huichang. His mother, née Feng, is the only daughter of the Feng family from Xinchang Ward in the capital. His elder brother married a daughter of the Cheng family from Fengyi Ward a year ago and has no children yet. So tell me, where did this Yang cousin of yours come from?"