The Golden Hairpin

In the dead of night, a sudden downpour cascaded from the sky. The pavilions near and far all lost their outlines in the abrupt storm, fading into formlessness.

The wind and rain grew wild and chaotic. The palace lanterns hanging under the eaves swayed violently, their golden tassels tangled in disarray. The dim red light within the glazed lanterns flickered unsteadily, as though the faint glow might be swept away by the wind at any moment.

The night-watch maids hurried to close the windows, their light footsteps echoing faintly through the hall like rippling water.

Yet even this soft sound roused Prince Li Run of E from his sleep in the inner chamber. He emerged and saw the billowing white curtains, like drifting clouds, fluttering before his eyes in the wavering light. Passing through these ethereal veils, he stepped to the palace entrance and peered outside.

All the structures of the princely estate stood silent and still amidst the furious storm.

Amid the clamor of the rain, a piercing shriek suddenly tore through the cold, rainy night—so mournful it felt as though Li Run’s throat had been seized, his heart convulsing in shock.

He jolted awake from his dazed, nightmare-like state, scarcely able to believe the agonized cry had come from the person he knew best. He could only ask reflexively, “Was that… my mother’s voice?”

“Yes…” the maids behind him answered timidly.

Ignoring the attendants rushing to hold an umbrella over him, Li Run plunged into the torrential rain outside, sprinting straight through the downpour toward the small pavilion from which the scream had come.

The chamber inside was brightly lit, with palace maids moving about in hushed disorder. Yue Ling, the female official who attended his mother, emerged from the inner room and hurried forward to bow when she saw him. “Your Highness need not worry,” she said softly. “Her Highness the Dowager Consort was startled by a nightmare. We have already sent for Imperial Physician She, and the room has been fumigated with a special calming incense. She should settle down soon.”

Nodding, Li Run stepped into the inner chamber to check on his mother. She was in the throes of hysteria, held down by two sturdy maids while four others watched closely, preventing her from thrashing. Her lips were purplish against her deathly pale cheeks, her hair disheveled, her eyes bulging wide as she shrieked.

Li Run sighed and sat beside her, calling gently, “Mother.”

She fixed him with a terrifyingly fierce glare. Only after a long moment did she seem to recognize him as her son, her struggles gradually easing. From her parched throat, she forced out two words: “Run’er…”

Relieved, Li Run reached out to stroke her forehead, smoothing back the stray strands of hair. “Mother, it’s me,” he said.

“Why are your clothes and hair all wet?” she rasped.

“It’s raining outside. I ran through the courtyard to get here.” He took the towel Yue Ling handed him and wiped his face, then murmured, “Mother, if you had a nightmare, let me stay with you until you sleep.”

The Dowager Consort nodded slowly, exhausted, and curled up against her pillow.

Li Run had a daybed moved beside her. He reclined on it, closing his eyes as he listened to his mother’s ragged breathing gradually steady under the influence of the incense.

The others were dismissed, and most of the lamps were extinguished, leaving only a few warm orange lanterns casting their glow through the curtains.

Outside, the storm still raged in the darkness, violent and unrelenting.In a drowsy haze, Li Run suddenly heard his mother calling his name: "Run'er..."

He opened his eyes and responded, "I'm here."

His mother's voice sounded calm and soothing, the first time in years. She asked slowly, "Run'er, where is your father?"

Li Run answered cautiously, "Father passed away ten years ago."

"...Oh." Her voice was low, almost like a murmur. "Has it been ten years?"

His mother, who had been mentally unstable for a decade, suddenly becoming so composed struck Li Run as unusual. He rose and sat on the edge of her bed, leaning in to look at her. Softly, he asked, "Mother... won't you rest a little longer?"

"I... have something to give you." Ignoring his question, she slowly propped herself up and opened the small cabinet by her bed, retrieving a delicate makeup case.

The case was lacquered black, adorned with mother-of-pearl inlays shaped like flowers. Though aged and unremarkable in value, she opened it carefully. Inside, the bronze mirror, long unpolished, had grown dim, casting a vague and eerie reflection.

She removed the mirror, revealing a folded piece of cotton paper hidden in the compartment behind it. Handing it to Li Run, she gazed at him with an oddly excited expression, like a child awaiting praise. "Look, this is something I painstakingly drew and hid. You must keep it safe... It concerns the fate of the empire. Remember, remember!"

Li Run silently took the paper and examined it. It was a sheet used by maids to sketch clothing patterns, though he couldn't fathom when she had hidden it. Scrawled on it with eyebrow pigment were two or three smudged ink blobs—irregular in shape, their lines tangled like frayed threads—utterly indecipherable.

Seeing it was nothing more than a nonsensical doodle, Li Run said nothing. He folded it carefully and tucked it into his sleeve. "Yes, I will remember and keep it safe."

The dowager consort reclined against her pillow, watching as he stored it away. Then, with downcast eyes and a hoarse voice, she murmured, "Run'er, you must remember... never get too close to Prince Kui..."

Outside, the rain poured relentlessly, its cacophony drowning the world. The swaying palace lanterns cast ghostly light through the window, further blurred by the gauzy curtains. The consort's gaunt face was pale as snow, tinged faintly pink like peach blossoms after a night of rain—only a faint echo of her former beauty remained.

Li Run watched his mother silently, but she merely stared vacantly at the flickering lantern light. After a long while, she began to laugh—first a stifled, almost conspiratorial chuckle, then louder and more uncontrollable, until it erupted into wild, hysterical laughter.

Her shrill laughter in the dark sent a chill down Li Run's spine. He reached for her hand and whispered, "Mother, you're tired. You should rest..."

Before he could finish, her hysterics ceased abruptly. Eyes wide with frenzy, she leaped from the bed, her hair disheveled as she lunged at him: "Run'er! The Great Tang is doomed! The throne has been usurped! As a scion of the Li imperial family, you must act now to save the dynasty! The throne has been usurped!"Li Run saw his mother descending into madness once more. With no other choice, he rose to open the door, enduring her frenzied blows like a maddened tigress, merely gesturing for the maids to restrain her. He stood outside the hall, waiting until her shrieks gradually subsided.

The palace attendant informed him that the dowager consort had already retired for the night and urged him to return. With a slight nod, he gazed at the curtain of rain and slowly made his way back in the dim light of dawn.

The soft, lightweight cotton paper in his sleeve bore obscure markings. At the corner, he considered taking it out to tear it up, but after a moment's hesitation, he kept it tucked away and continued his slow walk along the winding corridor.

The torrential rain engulfed Chang'an, the most prosperous capital of the Tang Empire. Hidden within the misty downpour, the city brimmed with unpredictable turns of fate.