The Golden Hairpin

The lingering mist over Chang'an City was suddenly swept away by the wind, as if this solitary beam of Buddha's light had traversed heaven and earth, piercing through the mortal realm solely to envelop him.

On the day the Buddha's relic entered the capital, Xu Fenghan led a hundred palace maids and a hundred eunuchs out of the city at the fourth watch, bowing in reverence from ten li away. By the hour of mao, as dawn gradually broke, they could see incense smoke curling in the distance, accompanied by the faint sounds of Buddhist hymns and sutra chanting—the procession escorting the sacred relic had set out from the nearest pagoda where they had rested the night before.

To welcome the relic, the emperor had organized a grand ceremonial parade. Silk banners and canopies were crafted from embroidered fabrics, while Buddhist implements were adorned with gold, jade, pearls, emeralds, and agate, totaling no less than a hundred hu of precious gems. The procession stretched three hundred li from the capital Chang'an to Famen Temple, with carriages and horses traveling ceaselessly day and night. Villagers from nearby settlements, having long anticipated this event, now lined the roads holding incense and flowers in reverence. At the sound of Buddhist chants, they prostrated themselves on the ground, some even weeping and wailing in fervor, beating their chests in devotion.

Guided by the imperial guards, palace musicians and dancers performed alongside folk troupes, forming a miles-long procession. Amid the deafening clamor, the Buddha's relic was ushered into the city, drawing crowds that packed the streets. Even government offices suspended their duties, with ministers rushing out to join the throng. Along the fifty-zhang-wide Vermilion Bird Avenue, a sea of people knelt in worship, their heads pressed to the ground.

Those unable to see from the back climbed pillars and eaves for a glimpse. Incense and candles in Chang'an had been sold out days prior, yet every hand now held burning offerings, filling the city with fragrant smoke and flickering lights. Every household set up altars, and every person bowed in devotion.

Amid the chaotic fervor, some zealots even pricked their fingers to sprinkle blood on the ground, while others burned their scalps or fingers in offering. A few severed their arms as sacrificial gifts, earning the awe of fellow devotees who carried them to follow the relic, basking in its divine radiance. In this city-wide frenzy, the relic finally arrived at the Anfu Gate of the Daming Palace.

To everyone's astonishment, the one who received the relic at Anfu Gate was none other than Prince Kui, Li Shubai.

"This... isn't this the Prince Kui, said to be possessed by a demon and most fearful of Buddha's light?" murmured one, recalling the rumors from the fifteenth year of Wanli.

"How dare he receive the relic? Is he even worthy?"

"Why has His Majesty been blinded into allowing such a man to welcome the sacred relic?"

Yet these doubts were soon drowned out by a new rumor spreading through the streets: "Haven't you heard? There's more to the story of Prince Kui's alleged murder of Prince E!"

"What more could there be? Prince E died by Prince Kui's hand—that's an undeniable fact!"

"Word is, Prince E was the one possessed by a demon, plotting against the emperor! Prince Kui defended the throne, and in their struggle, Prince E framed him with his dying breath!"

"So you're saying Prince E killed himself to slander Prince Kui?"

"Regardless, think of Prince Kui's decades of service—how many rebellions has he quelled? How many times has he risked his life? Rumor has it the Uighurs are invading, and the northwest is in peril. Once again, Prince Kui is being called to the northern frontier!"

"But... this is dangerous! What if the demon within him turns traitor?"

"Whether he's truly possessed or not—won't we know if he can safely receive the relic?"The drums and music still thundered across the sky as the carpet laid over the yellow sand came to an end. The palace's red silk stretched to the gates, where Xu Fenghuan, tasked with receiving the Buddha's relic, and the chief envoy Li Jian guided it onto the crimson fabric. There, Prince Kui Li Shubai stood at the very center of the palace entrance.

Clad in purple robes, his slightly gaunt face glowed under the vast spring sky. Standing tall upon the jade steps and red silk, his figure was as straight and graceful as a jade tree swaying in the breeze. Such elegance would dispel even the darkest suspicions of demonic possession from anyone who saw him.

Under the gaze of thousands, Li Shubai took three steps forward, accepted the incense sticks handed to him, and bowed in reverence before the massive stupa holding the sacred relic. He then received purified water, dipping a willow branch into it and sprinkling the ground to welcome the Buddha's relic into the palace.

Just as he finished sprinkling the water, the lingering haze over Chang'an was suddenly swept away by the wind. The thin clouds parted, and sunlight poured down from the heavens, illuminating him perfectly in a radiant golden glow. It was as though this single beam of divine light had traversed the cosmos to grace him alone for a fleeting moment.

The entire city stood frozen beneath the sky. Even the musicians and dancers forgot their melodies and movements, watching as his willow branch swept nine times through the air. Then, as swiftly as it had appeared, the clouds closed again, leaving no trace of the miraculous light.

"It's... it's the Buddha's light! A divine sign!"

A trembling voice rose from the crowd, and like a tidal wave, the people were overcome with awe. Murmurs of "Buddha's light, divine sign" spread as they bowed in reverence—not just to the relic, but to Prince Kui standing before it. Even those who had been debating whether the prince was possessed by a demon moments ago now wept openly, wholly convinced by this miracle.

"I always said Prince Kui's luck has carried him this far," remarked Wang Zongshi, standing within the palace gates as he observed the spectacle from afar. His lips barely moved as he spoke in a voice only Wang Yun behind him could hear. "This costly spectacle was supposed to benefit us, yet in the end, it's Prince Kui who reaps the rewards."

Wang Yun nodded. "All the rumors we spread these past days pale in comparison to that single beam of sunlight."

"Isn't that the amusing irony of fate?" Wang Zongshi's lips curled into a cold smirk as his gaze shifted toward the emperor standing before the hall.

The emperor's face was ashen, his expression grim—whether from illness or that sudden burst of light, no one could tell. But he quickly pushed the thought aside, for the Buddha's relic had now reached the steps. As he descended to welcome it, his foot twisted, nearly sending him tumbling down the stairs. Only the quick reflexes of Empress Wang, who steadied him from behind, saved him from the fall.

"Your Majesty, be careful," she whispered.

But the emperor barely acknowledged her, his entire body trembling with excitement as he approached the relic shrine. Empress Wang signaled the attending eunuchs to support him while reminding him to perform the ceremonial rites.

The emperor and empress burned incense and offered prayers, escorting the relic into the newly renovated palace temple. Its banners were adorned with pearls, the floral offerings carved from precious jade, the scriptures bound in gold, the wooden fish made of sandalwood—even the prayer cushions were embroidered with golden threads into thirty-six-petaled lotus designs.The Buddha's relics were to be enshrined in the palace for three days, during which the emperor would personally pay homage. All government offices were also given a three-day break. After the court officials paid their respects, they each left the Daming Palace and headed back to their residences.

Li Shubai exited the Daming Palace, encountering many officials along the way. Though they all bowed to him, most hesitated to approach too closely. Unfazed, he continued on his way. Just as he reached the palace gate and was about to board his carriage, someone called out from behind, "Your Highness."

Turning, he saw it was Wang Yun, who was currently in charge of palace security. Dressed lightly for the occasion of welcoming the Buddha's relics, Wang Yun stood beside his horse and saluted him.

Li Shubai nodded in acknowledgment and asked, "How have you been?"

"Thank you for your concern, Your Highness. All is well," Wang Yun replied, handing his horse's reins to a nearby guard before stepping closer and cupping his hands. "Congratulations on breaking free from your restraints and returning to court."

Li Shubai smiled faintly. "And congratulations to you, Yunzhi. I hear happy news is near?"

Wang Yun showed no surprise at his well-informed remark and simply said, "Indeed. Once the matter of the Buddha's relics is settled, it will be time for my wedding."

"His Majesty intends to keep the relics in the palace for three days. Does that mean you'll be departing for Chengdu in three days?" Li Shubai asked calmly.

Wang Yun nodded, offering a slight smile. "The day I go to Chengdu to bring her back will be the day we marry in the capital."

As if pierced by the sharpest needle, Li Shubai's eyelashes trembled slightly, and his breath hitched.

He took a deep breath and was about to speak when a mournful cry echoed through the sky. A solitary bird flew overhead, skimming the palace eaves before vanishing alone into the distance, its figure lost to the far horizon.

Li Shubai raised his eyes to watch the lone bird until it disappeared into the sky, his gaze filled with profound solitude. After a long moment, he finally looked away and said slowly, "After all, she was once by my side. Now that such happy news is near, I had no idea."

Seeing his expression, Wang Yun suppressed the turmoil in his heart and forced a smile, cupping his hands again. "Your Highness, forgive me! Zixia and I have been so busy preparing for the wedding that we neglected to inform you."

Li Shubai clasped his hands behind his back and gazed at the sky in silence.

Wang Yun continued softly, "The day before yesterday, she tried on her wedding dress, and a few adjustments were needed. Today, she might be discussing them with the seamstresses and embroiderers. Since she didn't ask, I hadn't yet had the chance to share your good news with her."

Li Shubai had no desire to hear about Wang Yun and Huang Zixia's wedding preparations. Raising a hand to stop him, he said, "In that case, I'll tell her myself. After all, she once saved me in Chengdu, and we... share a deep connection."

Wang Yun's eyes darkened as he cupped his hands and replied, "Thank you for your kindness, Your Highness. But back in Chengdu, you once told me you wished to give Zixia her freedom. Now that she has made her choice and we are occupied with preparations, why trouble her further?"

Li Shubai's gaze lingered on Wang Yun for a moment before shifting away. "I merely wish to fulfill the duty of an old friend. Even if you find it inappropriate, Yunzhi, given our past acquaintance, there are things I must clarify with her."

His tone was stubborn, almost cold, leaving Wang Yun momentarily at a loss for a response.

"I made her a promise that remains unfulfilled. Shouldn't I at least give her an explanation?"

Without another glance at Wang Yun, Li Shubai turned and boarded his carriage, signaling for departure.This headstrong attitude left Wang Yun standing in place for a moment before he finally snapped back to reality. By then, Li Shubai's carriage had already passed through the palace gates, heading east. He strode toward the guards behind him, mounted his horse, and without a word, spurred it into a gallop.

The imperial guards he left behind exchanged bewildered glances. His young attendant quickly urged his horse to catch up, calling anxiously, "Commander, His Majesty has decreed that you must oversee the palace defenses for the next three days without leaving Daming Palace!"

Without turning his head, Wang Yun replied, "I’ll be back soon."

"But... this is an imperial decree! If His Majesty needs you urgently—" The attendant panicked and reached for his reins.

"Get back!" Wang Yun lashed out with his whip, striking the attendant’s sleeve. The sharp sting forced him to recoil in shock, staring at his usually gentle and composed superior, baffled by his sudden outburst.

Yet seeing the distress and urgency on Wang Yun’s face, the attendant reined in his horse and dared not press further, only watching dumbly as his commander galloped through the outer palace gates toward the west, disappearing into the swirling dust.

The tranquil Yongchang Ward was bathed in the midday glow, with wisps of cooking smoke curling from every household, casting a faint bluish-gray hue over the winter day. As Wang Yun rode through the streets, the world around him seemed hushed, with only the faintest murmurs drifting from behind closed doors and windows—too distant to discern clearly.

Dismounting at the Wang residence, he hurried to the small courtyard where Huang Zixiang stayed. The door was shut, but the wintersweet blossoms before it were in full bloom, their golden brilliance splashed across the desolate yard, making the world seem unusually bright.

He took a deep breath, yet the pounding in his chest only grew fiercer. Slowly, he approached the door and knocked lightly. "Zixiang, are you there?"

"Yes, just a moment," came her soft reply from within.

At her voice, the tension in his chest eased instantly. Leaning against the porch pillar, he gazed at the wintersweet blossoms, a faint smile touching his lips.

Before long, Huang Zixiang opened the door and stepped out to join him.

He turned to look at her. She wore a silver-red robe, with glimpses of crimson undergarments at the sleeves and collar—a harmonious contrast of shades that was quite striking. His eyes lingered for a moment longer as he murmured with a gentle smile, "I still remember the first time I saw you, you were also wearing silver-red."

Huang Zixiang nearly corrected him—their first meeting had been when she, dressed as a young eunuch, had come to instruct Wang Ruo on palace etiquette. But before she could speak, she recalled that his first glimpse of her must have been when she was fourteen, in Daming Palace. Prince E had once mentioned that when Empress Wang summoned her, Wang Yun had dragged him along to secretly spy on his betrothed—back then, she had indeed been dressed in silver-red.

The thought of sixteen-year-old Wang Yun pulling Prince E along to steal a glance at her stirred a complicated mix of emotion and gratitude in her heart. Softly, she said, "Yes, it’s touching that you still remember how I looked then."

Wang Yun smiled, his gaze deepening as he studied her. "Crimson against silver-red," he whispered, "like sunset reflecting on plum blossoms—so beautiful. How could I ever forget?"Huang Zixiang lowered her head, steering the conversation elsewhere. "Clothes should always match in color to be pleasing to the eye."

"Indeed, we can't be like Ziqin," Wang Yun said, unable to suppress a laugh. "I heard his mother has poor eyesight and struggles with both light and dark colors, so she always dressed her children in bright, multicolored clothes when they were young. Now that they're grown, his brothers refuse to wear the outfits their mother picks, but Zhou Ziqin still happily dons them. It seems he's developed a fixed habit—even when choosing his own clothes, he sticks to those flashy color combinations."

Huang Zixiang nodded silently, her mind flashing to an unshakable memory—the night the Prince of E jumped from Xiangluan Pavilion. Amidst the sea of purple robes, why had he alone worn a black inner garment?

"Actually, because of Ziqin, I used to worry a little. After hearing my fiancée was skilled in investigations, I even wondered—would a woman who dealt with such things daily be a terrifying, ferocious shrew? That wouldn't do; I had to see for myself to be at ease."

Hearing his light chuckle, Huang Zixiang smiled faintly beside him under the wintersweet blossoms. Yet in truth, she didn't quite know what she was smiling about.

Seeing the soft curve of her lips, Wang Yun felt a burning warmth surge through his chest. Unable to resist, he stepped behind her and gently wrapped his arms around her, his voice tender as he whispered by her ear, "Back then, I followed you down that corridor blooming with trumpet vines, my heart full of trepidation and nerves. Then you turned at the end of the hallway... The moment I saw you, I knew my life was complete."

Holding her lightly, he rested his head against her hair, his warm breath mingling with her tresses. Her body stiffened, and she instinctively struggled slightly.

But Wang Yun, usually so gentle, held her tightly now, refusing to let her escape his embrace. He listened carefully for sounds beyond the high walls, but all was quiet—no other noises reached them here.

Turning her increasingly slender frame to face him, he gazed down at her expression. The unease and hidden sorrow in her slightly tense face seemed to sear his heart.

Yet unlike usual, he didn't release her. Instead, he lightly pressed her shoulder and murmured by her ear, "Though we've faced trials, we're finally destined to be together... Zixiang, my life's wish is fulfilled, and I will never fail you. And I hope... you won't fail my feelings for you either."

Huang Zixiang heard the subtle tremor in his voice—that ever-present gentleness now laced with what might have been fear, or perhaps pleading.

Her heart trembled in sync with his tone.

Her hands, which had hung limply at her sides, now clutched desperately at her skirt. The grip was so tight it bordered on convulsive, yet she couldn't bring herself to let go—couldn't naturally return the embrace of the man holding her.

She closed her eyes and allowed him to hold her tight.

Wang Yun stroked her hair, guiding her face to rest against his chest. Facing the courtyard, he gazed past the wintersweet blossoms at the tranquil, unchanging scene beyond.His fingers tightened around the strands of her loose hair. Amid the soft, faintly warm tresses, something cold brushed against his fingertips—a simple silver hairpin with a jade-green scrollwork design at the head. It looked utterly ordinary.

He paid it no mind, burying his face instead in the fragrant cascade of her hair. His hands slid downward, arms encircling her as he pulled her tightly against his chest.

When Wang Yun turned to leave, he glanced back at the courtyard and saw her standing beneath the eaves, watching him go. The shadows of wintersweet blossoms shimmered into a haze of gold, casting their glow upon her face and figure. She seemed submerged in that brilliance, yet only a pale smile surfaced, forced for his sake.

He nodded silently to her and turned away, walking down the corridor.

The fish in the wall’s embedded glass panels swam on, oblivious. Sunlight streamed from behind, glinting off their scales—gold, red, white—casting eerie yet beautiful ripples of light along the hallway.

Lost in thought, he passed through the shifting reflections, still seeing her wan smile hidden among the flower shadows. Just as he stepped through the gate, the mute servant tugged at his sleeve, making wordless sounds.

Wang Yun looked at him as the servant gestured: Someone came to see her just now.

His gaze turned inward, lips moving soundlessly: Who?

An unfamiliar nobleman. He reached the courtyard gate but turned back. Since he didn’t enter, I didn’t disturb you or Miss Huang.

A faint, involuntary smile touched Wang Yun’s lips, though his eyes remained cold.

The servant hesitated, then motioned for him to wait before retrieving a mounted scroll from inside and presenting it to him.

Wang Yun unrolled it slowly. The painting bore three ink blots—crude, shapeless smudges, impossible to decipher.

Left by the visitor, the servant signed.

Wang Yun nodded, carefully rerolling the scroll and handing it back. His lips formed silent words: Give this to Miss Huang in an hour. Tell her a servant delivered it.

The servant nodded eagerly, tucking the scroll away.

If anyone else comes, inform them Miss Huang is occupied with wedding preparations and not receiving guests.

Without another word, Wang Yun patted the servant’s shoulder and left.

Spring approached, though the lingering chill still clung to the air. Yet the earth had begun to warm.

Overnight, tender shoots of grass emerged in the courtyard, spreading green across the ground. The wintersweet blossoms, radiant just yesterday, now seemed to wilt under the sun, their once-bright gold petals dulled. Even their faint sandalwood fragrance had thinned in the mild air.

Huang Zixiang moved a small table to the courtyard, sketching beneath the flower-laden branches. Sunlight bathed her in warmth as petals occasionally drifted onto her shoulders, unnoticed. Lost in thought, she held her brush poised—

Until hurried footsteps approached, followed by Zhou Ziqin’s voice: Chonggu! Chonggu!

Setting down her brush, she rose to greet him. Ziqin. Zhou Ziqin rushed over in a few quick strides, carrying a large box in his arms. He nodded at her, saying, "Quick, give me a hand. It's so heavy."

Huang Zixiang helped him set the box down under the corridor and asked, "What's this?"

"Guess?" he replied smugly as he opened the lid.

Huang Zixiang took a closer look and saw limbs and heads lying haphazardly inside. She immediately held her forehead in exasperation. "What on earth is this?"

"Well, aren't you about to marry Wang Yun? This is my wedding gift for you," Zhou Ziqin said with a mix of reluctance and heartache. "Ah, I really can't bear to part with it! But since it's your wedding, how could I not give you the best thing I have?"

Huang Zixiao had no choice but to squat down and piece together the heads, torsos, and limbs. The pieces were heavy, made of white bronze and hollow inside, with joints that could be connected and rotated—far more convenient than the bronze figure that had previously pinned Zhou Ziqin down.

"Look, it's engraved with three hundred and sixty acupuncture points all over the body, along with muscles and meridians. The veins and tendons are even inlaid with brass," he said, pulling open the small bronze door on the torso and taking out the wooden internal organs one by one. "What do you think? Lifelike, right? I carved and painted them all myself!"

Huang Zixiao's face showed an expression of unbearable discomfort. "This... I probably don’t need it. I’m already familiar with all this."

"It’s not for you—it’s for your future child! Just imagine, your baby will grow up playing and sleeping with this bronze figure, mastering human anatomy from an early age. Combined with my forensic skills and your investigative talents, wouldn’t they become a legendary detective, renowned across the land?"

Huang Zixiao was speechless. "Ziqin, thank you for your thoughtfulness..."

Though she thought children would be better off riding bamboo horses and playing house.

"Don’t mention it—we’re like family!" he said, patting his chest with a slightly pained expression.

Huang Zixiao smiled and nodded, signaling a servant to help her carry the box inside. Zhou Ziqin sat on the railing and, glancing down, noticed a piece of paper on the table. He picked it up and read:

"Agashina, talismans, the death of Prince E, the deaths of the Zhang father and son, the strange omens at the late emperor’s passing, the madness of Consort Chen."

Zhou Ziqin asked in surprise, "What is this?"

Huang Zixiao replied calmly, "These are the things I’ve already uncovered."

"What? You already know so much of the truth?" Zhou Ziqin stared at the list in shock, then grabbed her shoulders excitedly, nearly spraying her with saliva. "Tell me! Chonggu, I beg you—I need to know the truth!"

"No, I can’t tell you," Huang Zixiao shook her head and said softly. "Ziqin, this case is too horrifying. Knowing the truth would be like playing with fire—it would only bring you harm."

Zhou Ziqin shouted, "I don’t care! I must know! 'Hear the truth in the morning, die content by evening!'"

"No," Huang Zixiao pushed his hands off her shoulders and looked at him seriously. "Ziqin, I have no parents left, so I don’t care about myself. But you still have your family. If something happens to you and they get implicated, what will you do?"

At the mention of his family, Zhou Ziqin froze. After a long pause, he stammered, "Is it... really that serious?"

Huang Zixiao nodded slowly and whispered, "Even Prince Kui has been dragged into this and can’t protect himself. Do you really think you’d fare better?"

Zhou Ziqin gasped and could only shake his head. "I... really wouldn’t."

She sighed, then stood and went to the inner chamber, returning with a scroll. "Look at this."

Zhou Ziqin unrolled it and saw three bizarre scribbles on thick, carefully mounted hemp paper. He was stunned. "Isn’t this... the late emperor’s handwriting that Old Man Zhang repeatedly asked me to find?"

"I believe it must be in Prince Kui’s residence, which is why you couldn’t find it in any government office."

Zhou Ziqin widened his eyes. "Did Prince Kui send it?""Hmm, I think it must be him," she said, holding the scroll up to the sunlight once more. But beneath the thick ink and sturdy paper, no one could discern what truly lay hidden.

Zhou Ziqin scratched his head in frustration. "What's behind these three scribbles is really maddening... I'm dying to know!"

"Well, you actually can find out." Huang Zimo rolled up the scroll again and handed it to him. "Come on, let's go to your place and wash off the ink to see what's hidden underneath."

"...Didn't you say this thing is very important and mustn't be destroyed?" he asked cautiously, holding the scroll. "As I mentioned before, once the ink is dissolved by the spinach juice, the hidden writing underneath might appear for just a fleeting moment before it too vanishes completely, leaving no trace..."

"It doesn't matter anymore. At this point, whether it's destroyed or not is meaningless," Huang Zimo sighed, stepping inside to grab a cloak to drape over herself. "Let's go. We'll uncover this final layer."

In the Buddhist hall of Daming Palace, the air was thick with incense. The rhythmic tapping of wooden fish blended with chanting, while banners and floral offerings adorned the casket holding the sacred Buddha relics. The hall was solemn and sacred, veiled in swirling incense smoke.

Empress Wang approached the emperor, who was seated in meditation before the Buddha, and knelt gently beside him. After he finished reciting a sutra and sprinkled purified water, she spoke softly, "Your Majesty, please rest. For the past three days, aside from a few hours of sleep each night in the side chamber, you've been praying before the Buddha relics. While your devotion is admirable, you must also take care of your health. The Buddha, who sees all, will surely understand."

The emperor set down the sutra scroll and turned to her. Seeing the concern on her face, he sighed and nodded, extending his hand to her.

Empress Wang quickly took his arm to help him up. But having sat for so long, he staggered upon standing and nearly collapsed.

She caught him, and they both tumbled onto the prayer cushion, thankfully unharmed. The surrounding monks rushed over to assist them to their feet.

The emperor chuckled weakly, still holding the empress's hand. "This old body of mine is truly failing..." Before he could finish, darkness suddenly clouded his vision. He clutched his forehead and collapsed.

Empress Wang and the attendants caught him, only to find his face pale and lips purple—he had lost consciousness. "Summon the imperial physicians! Quickly!" she cried in alarm.

Attendants immediately dashed out to fetch the court physicians.

As Empress Wang held the emperor, she felt his body tremble slightly. Her heart sank, and beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Biting her lip to steady herself, she slowly reached for a nearby candle and lifted his eyelid to examine his pupils—they were dilated and slow to react.

Her eyes widened in shock. Only after several deep breaths did she regain her composure. Cradling the emperor's head in her arms, she turned and called calmly, "Changqing."

The chief eunuch, Changqing, hurriedly stepped forward and bowed to listen.The emperor had already roused in a daze. Weakly grasping Empress Wang's hand, his lips moved a few times, but his voice was too faint amidst the surrounding chaos for her to make out his words at first.

"Your Majesty, please...speak slowly." She bent down, bringing her ear close to his lips.

His mouth trembled as he laboriously uttered two words: "Prince Kui..."

Empress Wang nodded and looked up at Changqing, saying, "Summon Prince Kui to the palace."

The emperor clutched her sleeve tighter, his lips quivering like a candle in the wind. No longer able to produce sound, he painstakingly formed three words with his mouth alone—

"Kill him."

Empress Wang watched his lips, gave a slight nod, then called out to Changqing who was already walking away: "Cancel summoning Prince Kui. Have the Imperial Guard Commander Wang invite the Shence Army's Eunuch Wang instead."

The Xianning Hall of Daming Palace stood on level ground west of the Taiye Pool. What exactly was history playing at?

Wang Zongshi and Wang Yun arrived as the sun was setting. The senior palace official Changling awaited them in the front hall, immediately ushering them to the rear hall upon their arrival.

Empress Wang sat by the bedside, both hands tightly clasping the emperor's right hand, lost in silent thought. Only when Changling called her did she turn to look at them, wiping the corner of her eye with the back of her hand before saying, "His Majesty's dragon body is unwell."

Wang Zongshi approached the bed to examine the emperor. Seeing his pallid complexion and feeble consciousness, he bent down and called, "Your Majesty?"

The emperor merely blinked once to acknowledge he'd heard.

Wang Zongshi stood by the bed, looking at Empress Wang. Her expression had already regained composure as she calmly stated, "By His Majesty's decree, summon Prince Kui to the palace and execute him."

Wang Yun's expression changed dramatically. He involuntarily stepped forward, looking at the emperor.

Meanwhile, Wang Zongshi slowly folded his hands into his sleeves and said leisurely, "Very well. We should have killed him over a decade ago."

Still holding the emperor's hand, Empress Wang said slowly, "Now with Prince E's death, executing Prince Kui would be justified. Only...this man won't be easy to kill."

The emperor's gaze shifted to Wang Zongshi.

"Recently, the Aga Shine fish have been spawning. Bestowing Prince Kui with some of these many fish eggs would show him the imperial favor," Wang Zongshi mused with a frown. "However, actions require proper justification. Your Majesty being a benevolent ruler should deal with people openly and honorably. In this humble servant's view, Your Majesty could use the Buddha's relics to expose Prince Kui's misdeeds, making the world understand why he must be executed."

The corners of the emperor's lips twitched into a slight curve.

In the dimming light of the hall, this expression appeared sinister and terrifying.

Empress Wang, who had been holding his hand all along, unconsciously loosened her grip at this eerie smile, but quickly tightened it again. She turned to ask Wang Yun, "How many Imperial Guards are currently in the palace?"

Wang Yun hesitated before answering, "Today there are about five hundred twenty on duty at the palace gates. If we want to discreetly bring more troops in, we could probably gather three to four hundred more during the You and Mao hour guard changes. Any more than that might alert other military offices and tip off Prince Kui."

"So less than a thousand men. If Prince Kui is unprepared it might suffice, but if he's on guard, it likely won't be enough." Empress Wang frowned.Wang Zongshi said calmly, "No matter. Once Prince Kui enters the palace, I will immediately mobilize the Divine Strategy Army to surround the palace. Even if he becomes aware of it then, it will be too late. As long as he is within the palace walls, how could he possibly escape?"

Wang Yun stood motionless behind them, his lips pressed tightly together as he silently observed the three men before him.

He thought of his promise to Huang Ziyao—she had agreed to spend her life with him, and he had vowed to help her rescue Prince Kui.

Now she had already tried on her wedding dress, preparing to travel south with him to Chengdu.

Yet here he was, preparing to kill Prince Kui, Li Shubai.

A chill spread through his chest, and his mind buzzed with noise. A voice inside him repeated over and over: What should I do? What should I do?

After killing Prince Kui, how could he possibly conceal the truth from her? How could he prevent her from discovering his crime?

How could he ever hide it? She was Huang Ziyao, someone who could easily see through his every thought. Even if he could deceive her temporarily, once Prince Kui died, the whole world would know. How could he deceive her for a lifetime?

In that instant, cold sweat broke out all over his body. He suddenly realized that whether Prince Kui lived or died, by participating in this conspiracy, he had already betrayed Huang Ziyao. There would never be any future for them now.

Wang Zongshi seemed to notice his unease and lightly patted his back.

Wang Yun shuddered in alarm, immediately reminding himself that the emperor was on his deathbed. The fate of the Wang family for decades to come rested on this moment—how could he afford to be distracted by anything else?

With great effort, he forced himself to focus, pushing all other thoughts aside, and fixed his gaze solely on the emperor.

Empress Wang steadied herself, then leaned down and softly asked the emperor, "Your Majesty, what are your instructions regarding the heir to the throne?"

At the mention of the heir, the emperor's breathing grew labored. He stared fixedly at Empress Wang for a long moment before shifting his gaze to Wang Zongshi. His throat rasped as he struggled to utter two words: "Xuan'er..."

Empress Wang immediately understood—he did not trust her. Though Crown Prince Li Xuan had been raised by her, she had once been the sister of the late Empress Hui'an. Now that her true identity—that she was unrelated to the Wang family—had been exposed, her relationship with the crown prince was no longer close.

Clasping the emperor's hand, she knelt by the bed and said tearfully, "Your Majesty, rest assured. Xuan'er is my sister's child, as everyone in the court knows. Moreover, he was long ago named crown prince and is five years older than my Jie'er. Naturally, he is more suited to ascend the throne than a seven-year-old child. And since his mother was the eldest daughter of the Wang family, as long as the Wangs remain in court, he will surely ascend safely."

Seizing the moment, Wang Zongshi nodded and added, "Your Majesty, set your mind at ease. He is the only son of the late Empress Hui'an and Your Majesty's eldest legitimate heir. We, your old ministers, will spare no effort to support the young ruler."

Only then did the emperor exhale in relief. His gaze returned to Empress Wang's face, and his breathing quickened again.

Empress Wang studied his expression but could not decipher his meaning. She leaned closer and whispered, "Does Your Majesty have any further commands?"

The emperor stared blankly at her, taking in her radiant beauty for a long moment before closing his eyes and slowly shaking his head.

Wang Yun rode toward Yongchang Ward, his mind heavy with thoughts, silent the entire way.The city of Chang'an was under curfew, its countless gates and households enveloped in silence. Only the rhythmic clatter of his horse's hooves echoed faintly against the stone-paved streets.

He raised his gaze to the sky, where the waning crescent moon hung like a slender hook, its golden-red hue against the deep blue night resembling a blood-stained scar.

Pausing to observe this sliver of moon, he felt the night wind blow, chilling him to the bone.

Within the Wang residence, all voices had quieted, save for the solitary lamp burning in Huang Zixia's chamber. He tapped lightly on her door and asked through the wood, "Zixia, are you asleep yet?"

"Not yet, just a moment," came her voice from inside, followed by the sound of her rising before she opened the door. Seeing her clothes neatly arranged and her hair perfectly in place, Wang Yun knew she hadn't retired for the night and asked, "Why are you still up?"

"Tomorrow I'm to accompany you to Shu, so I'm packing my things," she replied. "Though I often feel I possess little of value, somehow there always seems to be a few things I can't bear to leave behind."

Wang Yun glanced around the room, noticing two or three bundles scattered on the bed, containing clothes and various odds and ends—but the scroll was nowhere to be seen.

Hesitating briefly, he chose not to mention it and instead said, "Actually, I came to tell you that we might not be able to depart for Chengdu tomorrow."

Huang Zixia looked at him in surprise. "Has something happened at the palace?"

"No... nothing like that," Wang Yun quickly shook his head. "It's just that tomorrow the Buddha's relics are to be escorted from the palace to various temples for veneration. It's bound to be chaotic, and I've been roped into overseeing it. I couldn't get out of it—they insisted I must attend."

Huang Zixia studied his forced smile, then turned her gaze to the slanting moon in the sky without a word.

Seeing her silent contemplation of the moon, Wang Yun hesitated before saying, "Well... I have other matters to attend to, so I should be going..."

"Is it related to Prince Kui?" Huang Zixia asked quietly.

Wang Yun froze, reflexively responding, "What?"

"Nothing, just a passing thought—I heard on the street that he's been released from the Imperial Clan Court and is presiding over the relic ceremony. So I wondered if your late-night errand might concern him."

Wang Yun frowned and instinctively denied it. "No, it has nothing to do with him."

Observing his expression, Huang Zixia merely smiled faintly and remained silent.

Only then did he realize his own abruptness and hastily explained, "Actually, I was thinking—I'm your fiancé, after all. Shouldn't your attention be on me? Otherwise, I might get jealous."

Hearing his teasing words, Huang Zixia lowered her head silently and murmured, "Yes..."

"Don't worry, I was only joking. Look how flustered you are," Wang Yun said, gently squeezing her hand. "With the relic procession these next few days, troublemakers might take advantage of the crowds. You should rest at home."

"Alright," she replied obediently, letting her hand remain in his.

Her docile demeanor stirred his heart, like a thorny rose finally clipped and stripped of all its barbs, now placed tenderly in a crystal vase. This rare moment showed Huang Zixia as fragile, gentle, and quiet—standing meekly before him.Suddenly, a glimmer of hope arose in him. He thought, perhaps she wouldn’t find out. Perhaps now that she had lost her parents and the support of Prince Kui, she had come to understand the harsh realities of life. So she might abandon everything from the past—those cases and corpses—and cast them aside, choosing a safe and steady path to walk alongside him.

Perhaps she would turn a deaf ear to the world outside, becoming an ordinary woman devoted to her husband and children, never stepping beyond the inner courtyards, indifferent even to the change of dynasties. Even if her former master met with misfortune, she would not utter more than a sigh.

Huang Zixiang saw Wang Yun off at the door and stood in the darkness for a long while.

Wang Yun reached the end of the alley and turned back to look at her. Clad in light-colored robes, she stood in the night, her figure gradually blurred by the encroaching darkness, leaving only a faint silhouette—like the sole blank space left in a world swallowed by shadows.

He felt his heart pounding violently in his chest. An uncontrollable impulse surged within him, urging him to rush back to her side and hold her tightly in his arms.

But in the end, he restrained himself. He turned his horse around and rode forward.

Over the years, everything about her had flowed through his heart like a spring. From the moment he first understood that she was his betrothed, to the first time he heard of her deeds at fourteen or fifteen; the first time he saw her at sixteen, captivated by the delicate curve of her profile, as enchanting as the drooping flowers of the trumpet vine; the shame and fury he felt at nineteen when he learned she had poisoned her entire family for another man; their reunion last spring—even disguised as a young eunuch, her outline had instantly merged with his memories...

And now, she had loved one man, then another, yet still did not love him.

In this world, he was the one most entitled to have her—yet her heart remained forever beyond his reach.

Wang Yun rode through the heavy night streets of Chang’an, gazing at the blood-red crescent moon in the sky. Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind—

Perhaps only if Prince Kui died would he have a chance.

The moment this thought surfaced, he instinctively yanked the reins, as if he himself couldn’t believe it. But then, his heart began to race again. He took a deep breath, staring up at the bloody moon, and even the corners of his lips curled into a faint smile—

He knew the expression on his face now must be identical to the emperor’s twisted grin at that time.

But so what? From now on, the man in her heart would no longer exist in this world.

"Zixiang, don’t blame me. I’m only following orders—helpless in this." He exhaled deeply and urged his horse toward the Daming Palace. Muttering to himself under the starry night sky, his lips barely moved. Every word vanished into the night wind before it could even be spoken: "No matter what, after tomorrow, I will be your only choice."