The Golden Hairpin

The Great Tang, Chang'an.

The most prosperous and flourishing city in the world today. The disciplined order of the Zhenguan era and the splendor of the Kaiyuan era had, by the Xiantong years, evolved into a scene of extravagant indulgence.

At the heart of this indulgence stood the Jianfu Temple, located south of Kaihua Fang in the very center of Chang'an.

Once the former residence of Emperor Yang of Sui and Emperor Zhongzong of Tang, the temple was later dedicated as a Buddhist monastery by Empress Wu Zetian to pray for the late Emperor Gaozong. The famed flowers, ancient trees, pavilions, and theaters within the temple remained just as they had been in those days.

It was the nineteenth day of the sixth month—the day of Guanyin's enlightenment. The temple was packed shoulder to shoulder with crowds of people. Though the temple's famed Liberation Pond spanned a full two hundred paces in circumference, it could hardly accommodate the throngs of devotees releasing all manner of small fish into its waters. The pond was so overcrowded that the temple grounds were just as jam-packed as the pond itself.

The stifling heat, unrelieved by rain, weighed heavily over all of Chang'an. Sweat-drenched visitors suffered under the oppressive weather, yet they still pushed forward relentlessly, eager to release their fish into the pond.

Amid the surging crowd, only the corner of the corridor stood apart, where a pomegranate tree blazed with fiery blossoms, vivid and striking. Beneath it stood a tall, slender young man dressed in robes of pale green silk. With his hands clasped behind his back, he gazed silently at the crowd before him, his noble and refined bearing lending an air of cool serenity to the sweltering day.

His gaze swept past the clamoring masses, settling on a figure struggling toward the Liberation Pond. Among the sea of dark heads, this person stood out—not because of any striking handsomeness, but because of the eye-searingly bright apricot-yellow robe he wore, its dazzling hue almost glowing amidst the crowd.

The man shoved his way forward while turning back to call out, "Chonggu, keep up! Don't get separated!"

Behind him was a slight, delicate-looking young eunuch in a crimson gauze robe. His features were exquisitely refined, and his hair was tied into a simple bun secured with a silver hairpin, its head carved into an intricate scrollwork pattern of foliage.

These two, of course, were Zhou Ziqin and Huang Zixiao.

At the moment, both of them—like everyone else—held large lotus leaves cradling fish they intended to release. But the sheer density of the crowd made it nearly impossible for Huang Zixiao to keep her balance. Her small, lotus-bud face, with its pointed chin, was scrunched in frustration as she struggled to keep the water from spilling out of her leaf.

Li Shubai, standing beneath the pomegranate tree, took in their sorry state before silently lifting his gaze to the sky.

The gloomy heavens, the suffocating atmosphere, and the rain that threatened but refused to fall had cast the capital under a pall of oppressive stillness.

Eventually, Zhou Ziqin and Huang Zixiao gave up and trudged back, still clutching their lotus leaves and fish in defeat.

"It's horrifying! The pond's surface is so packed with fish, it's just a solid mass of red—you couldn't even fit a needle in there, let alone release more!"

Listening to Zhou Ziqin's lament, Li Shubai shot Huang Zixiao a cold glance. "I told you not to join the crowd."

Huang Zixiao glared at Zhou Ziqin in frustration. "It was someone who insisted on dragging me to buy fish."

"Well... it's a once-in-a-decade event, isn't it? Everyone says it accumulates great merit." Zhou Ziqin sighed, looking down at the fish in his leaf. "Might as well take them home and steam them for dinner.""Hmm, good thing we bought a big one," Huang Zixiang agreed, casually tipping the fish from her lotus leaf into Zhou Ziqin's. "Here, you can have them all."

In the crowded lotus leaf, the two fish collided, splashing water all over Zhou Ziqin's face.

Zhou Ziqin made a pained expression and asked, "Why?"

"My arms are tired," she said, turning to follow Li Shubai toward the temple ahead.

"Chonggu, you can't do this to me..." Zhou Ziqin lamented, tears streaming down his face, yet unwilling to let go of the two plump fish. He had no choice but to clutch the lotus leaf and trot after them.

Ahead was the main hall where the Buddha was enshrined, thronged with worshippers and visitors. The massive incense burner was filled with incense cakes and blocks offered by devotees, their smoke curling upward and gathering into ethereal clouds in the air, making the entire hall appear distorted. On either side of the burner stood two enormous candles, each nearly ten feet tall, a sight that left onlookers awestruck.

The giant candles were infused with various colors, transforming the originally pale yellow wax into a vibrant palette. The hues complemented the dragons and phoenixes painted on their surfaces—golden dragons and crimson phoenixes weaving through purple clouds, their forms carved in relief so lifelike they seemed ready to leap off the wax. Above them, auspicious heavenly maidens scattered blossoms, while below, paper flowers and lotus motifs bloomed in dazzling profusion, all set against a backdrop of multicolored auspicious clouds. The resplendent display drew gasps of admiration from the crowd.

"These candles were crafted by Lü Zhiyuan, the master of the Lü Family Candle Shop. It's said he secluded himself in his workshop for seven days and nights, purifying himself with incense and prayers to demonstrate his sincerity. Truly extraordinary!"

"I also heard that after delivering the candles this morning, he collapsed from exhaustion and had to be carried home. His daughter wanted to accompany him, but he scolded her, calling women unclean—you know how the old man is, notorious in the capital for mistreating his daughter, always calling her a money-draining burden. And then there was that incident... heh."

"Don't say it—that girl is quite pretty, haha..."

To prevent damage, red ropes encircled the giant candles, keeping people from touching them. The crowd gathered around instead, exchanging gossip about their origins.

"Jianfu Temple must be wealthy to afford such enormous candles," Zhou Ziqin remarked, marveling at the intricate paintings. "My family usually uses oil lamps. To burn so much wax in broad daylight—what a waste!"

"The Buddhist order is certainly rich," Huang Zixiang said. "I heard the palace alone donated a million strings of cash for this year's celebration of Guanyin's enlightenment. Do you know how much wax these candles required? They've been collecting beeswax from all over the country since last year, just for today's offering."

The crowd grew thicker as Abbot Liaozhen of Jianfu Temple ascended the newly erected dharma platform to begin his sermon.

In the sweltering heat of midsummer, dark clouds loomed over the temple, with flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder overhead. A storm seemed imminent, yet no one in the temple was willing to leave, all standing to listen to Liaozhen's teachings.

The sermon platform was set up at the entrance of the main hall, just five paces from the incense burner and giant candles. Huang Zixiang, Li Shubai, and Zhou Ziqin stood behind the burner, watching Liaozhen through the curling smoke. The abbot appeared to be in his fifties, vigorous and rosy-cheeked, his face alight with a smile as he spoke with eloquence, every bit the venerable master.His voice boomed, resonating far and wide within and beyond Jianfu Temple, reaching every ear clearly—

"Thus, when evil spirits run rampant, the Tathagata suppresses them with supreme power, striking them down with sudden thunder, severing heads from bodies—this is retribution. Thus, when wicked deeds arise, the Bodhisattva smites them with the thunder of the heavens, striking the crown, leaving bodies charred and foul—this is consequence. All things in this world meet their just deserts, for heaven and earth are sentient..."

Before his words could fade, the distant rumble of thunder in the sky suddenly erupted into a deafening roar. Amid the lightning and thunder, a brilliant flash exploded—the giant candle on the left had been struck by lightning, igniting in an instant. Burning chunks of wax rained down on the crowd, striking many and plunging the scene into chaos as people clutched their heads and faces, collapsing in disarray.

Those closest to the candle suffered the worst. Many found their clothes aflame, desperately slapping at their bodies to extinguish the fire.

Among the victims, one man let out a piercing scream, leaping up as he clawed at his hair. Everyone around saw his hair burst into flames, followed by his entire body as his clothes ignited in an instant.

Seeing him engulfed in roaring flames, the terrified crowd scrambled and shoved, fighting to escape before the fire could spread to them.

Jianfu Temple was already packed, and now it descended into pandemonium—wails and shrieks filled the air as people crawled and trampled over one another in panic. Amid the chaos, a circle roughly ten feet wide formed, at the center of which lay the writhing, screaming figure of the burning man.

Around him, countless shattered wax blocks blazed fiercely, making it seem as though he were trapped in a hell of scorching flames, unable to escape no matter how he thrashed and rolled.

The outer crowd surged outward like a boiling pot, Huang Zixiang stumbling helplessly in the tide of bodies, unable to steady herself. In the frantic retreat, people trampled over one another, the situation spiraling out of control—even the yamen officers sent to maintain order were knocked down and trampled underfoot.

Zhou Ziqin, jostled by the surging crowd, lost his footing. In the chaos, the lotus leaf in his hand tipped over, and the two already half-dead fish inside spilled onto the ground, instantly crushed into pulp by the stampede. The golden pouch, purple flint bag, blue abacus pouch, silver-sheathed dagger—all the colorful trinkets hanging from his belt—vanished in the crush.

"No... this can't be! We came to release life, not take it! What a sin, what a sin!" Zhou Ziqin cried, hopping in distress as he tried to salvage the situation. But the crowd shoved him further away, and he flailed his arms helplessly. "Chonggu! Chonggu!"

Huang Zixiang was in no better state. Swept along by the frenzied mob, she staggered backward, unable to regain her balance. Just as her foot slipped and she teetered on the brink of being trampled, a hand seized her arm firmly, pulling her to safety.

She looked up into the face of Li Shubai—calm and composed—as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, shielding her against his chest.

Amid the clamor and chaos, Huang Zixiang nestled in the shelter of his embrace, feeling like a small boat anchored in a tranquil harbor. The chaotic crowd around her faded into a distant, flowing backdrop.Huang Ziyao felt a warmth slowly spreading through her chest, making her muscles stiffen and her breath quicken.

This feeling was truly unpleasant—it seemed to blur her clarity and cool-headed view of the world—

Just like back then, when she had been held in that person's embrace.

Unconsciously, she raised her hand and pushed Li Shubai away, breaking free from his arms.