The Golden Hairpin

Her hand was cold and soft, lying quietly in his grasp without moving a trace.

His voice rose gently amidst the rain. He said, "In three days, we set off for Shu."

She remained silent. The rain suddenly grew heavier, the drops hitting the umbrella in short, heavy bursts, as if each one was knocking awake her thoughts.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally heard her strained, low voice slowly say, "Actually... when my parents and family died, and I was accused of being the murderer, I once doubted Yu Xuan too."

Li Shubai looked down at her. In the pouring rain, beneath the shelter of a single umbrella, they seemed enclosed in a world entirely separate from reality. She was so close, just a tilt of his head away, yet also as distant as the ends of the earth—as if the rain falling on her side and the rain falling on his carried entirely different temperatures.

But he only gave a slight nod and said, "Even to an outsider like me, he seemed suspicious—especially when he misled you into buying arsenic."

With difficulty, she replied, "But in truth... we'd done things like that countless times over the past three years. It wasn’t the first time. If he’d truly intended to act, he wouldn’t have waited for that occasion... During festivals, when my relatives gathered in greater numbers, would have been more opportune."

"And you’re certain he had no opportunity to administer the poison?"

"I’m certain." Though Huang Zixiao's voice was low, her words were clear and precise. "His alibi is indisputable. After arriving at my home, he only went with me to the back garden to pick plum blossoms. There was no way he could have approached the kitchen, let alone the lamb trotter soup—when he left, the lamb might still have been alive, kept near the kitchen."

Li Shubai pondered for a moment before asking, "And after he left your home?"

"He was discussing philosophy over tea with friends, at a place very far from my house. He didn’t leave midway either."

"So it was absolutely impossible for him to have poisoned anyone?"

"Yes. No time, no opportunity, and no... motive." She struggled to control her breathing before adding in a trembling voice, "Your Highness saw it too just now—he’s the kind of person who would pity even a beggar by the roadside. A truly kind-hearted soul."

Li Shubai held the umbrella with one hand as the two stood silently in the rain. The summer downpour cascaded around them, the wind driving the rain sideways to soak the hems of their robes.

Gazing at her lowered face, he suddenly asked in a quiet voice, "If, after going to Shu, all traces have vanished and you can’t uncover the truth... what then?"

Huang Zixiao bit her lower lip and remained silent for a long while before answering, "In this world, whenever someone commits a crime, they leave traces behind. I refuse to believe any evil can be so thoroughly erased by time that no evidence remains."

"Good." Without hesitation, Li Shubai replied, "I will always stand behind you. You needn’t worry or doubt—just do what you must."

"Mmm..." She lowered her head, her lashes veiling her clear, stubborn eyes. Beneath them, a barely perceptible glimmer of moisture flickered and vanished.

"Thank you... Your Highness."

Before her eyes stretched endless flames, crimson tongues of fire licking up black ashes like an overwhelming dragon of fire sweeping forth, carrying scorching embers as it lunged toward Huang Zixiao, standing alone on the ground.At the very moment the scorching flames engulfed her entire body, she didn't close her eyes in fear. Instead, she widened them, staring fixedly at the blinding firelight before her.

As the intense flames gradually dissipated, a figure emerged from within the fire—clad in deep, overwhelming red. The hue was startlingly vivid, as if bathed in blood and light, resembling southern red agate, blood-red coral, or pigeon-blood ruby—stunning, dazzling, yet exuding an aura of slaughter.

He walked toward her, observing her writhing in agony amidst the flames, his face wearing that familiar, indifferent smile. The grin, like spring flowers in full bloom, now twisted into the cruelest and most terrifying curve at the corners of his lips.

His tall frame leaned slightly forward, gazing at her as one would at an ant about to be doused with boiling water. His icy voice rippled through her ears like water: "Huang Zixiao, do you regret it now?"

Do you regret it?

Do you regret it?

The frigid echo of these words tormented her mind more painfully than the flames licking her body, until she could bear it no longer. With a scream, she clapped her hands over her ears, gasping for breath as she abruptly sat up.

Outside the window, the chirping birds scattered in fright at her cry, their wings flapping noisily as they fled. Only the swaying branches remained, trembling outside for what seemed an eternity.

Huang Zixiao sat motionless on the bed, clutching the quilt, feeling a surge of blood in her chest that plunged her into dizzying darkness. She took deep breaths, waiting for the blackness to fade, then stumbled to the table by the wall, groping for last night's cold tea and gulping it down in one go.

A wave of coolness spread from her throat downward, finally clearing her mind somewhat.

She sat blankly at the table for a long while before mechanically turning her head to look out the window.

The heavy rain had washed away all traces of dust, and after a night, the scorching summer heat had returned.

The exact same weather as the day she first met Yu Xuan.

Dawn had just broken, yet the city of Chang'an was already bustling with activity.

Chang'an thrived with endless streams of people, countless trades, and rows upon rows of splendid buildings. Even the nightly curfew couldn't suppress the ceaseless clamor of the city.

And at the very heart of this liveliest of places, none was more vibrant than the Brocade Pavilion at the center of Chang'an's Western Market.

Today, inside the Brocade Pavilion, an elderly storyteller regaled the boisterous crowd with all manner of bizarre tales and legends from the world beyond.

"Now, on the third day of the seventh month in the third year of the Dazhong era, though the sun blazed fiercely in a cloudless sky, by afternoon, ten thousand auspicious clouds suddenly rose above the Sixteen Estates where His Majesty then resided, accompanied by a thousand miles of radiant hues—tell me, good people, what could such strange phenomena possibly signify?"

The storyteller spun his fanciful tales with silver-tongued flair.

Huang Zixiao sat by the second-floor railing, a spoon in her left hand and chopsticks in her right, gazing down at the storyteller with unfocused eyes that seemed to see nothing at all.

Across from her, Zhou Ziqin lightly tapped the back of her hand with his chopsticks.

Huang Zixiao snapped back to attention, shifting her gaze to Zhou Ziqin's face. "What?"

Zhou Ziqin glared at her in displeasure. "I should be asking you that. You invited me to eat, yet here you are, lost in your own thoughts."

By now, the Brocade Pavilion was alive with excitement. The audience loved nothing more than outlandish tales, and someone shouted loudly, "The third year of Dazhong—wasn't that the year Princess Tongchang was born?""Exactly!" The storyteller immediately responded when someone chimed in. "Now, this Princess Tongchang, from the day she was born under auspicious clouds, remained silent until the age of three when she suddenly spoke, saying, 'Can live.' His Majesty, then still the Prince of Yun, was in the midst of astonishment when the ceremonial procession to welcome him as emperor arrived at his doorstep. The prince, who had long been anxious due to the late emperor's refusal to name an heir, finally realized—this time, he truly could live! From then on, the current emperor has cherished Princess Tongchang as a treasure beyond compare, holding her dearer than the apple of his eye!"

Huang Zixiang had little interest in such outlandish tales. She averted her gaze but noticed a few people leaning against the railing nearby, listening to the storyteller. They all turned to someone beside them with knowing smiles, saying, "Ah Wei, they're talking about your princess wife."

The man in question was a handsome youth in his early twenties, his well-defined features carrying a weariness unbefitting his age. Rubbing his forehead with a frown, he sighed helplessly, "Alright, I should get going. It's almost noon already."

He returned to his seat, downed a bowl of sobering soup, then lifted his sleeve to sniff at it before hastily bidding farewell to his companions and rushing downstairs.

The group of young men behind him burst into laughter, pointing at his retreating figure. "Look at him! See, marrying a princess isn't all it's cracked up to be. Poor Wei, every time he joins us for a gathering, he's on edge after just a couple of drinks. Truly pitiable!"

Huang Zixiang gestured toward the young man who had just left and asked Zhou Ziqin, "Do you know him?"

Zhou Ziqin glanced over and said, "Who doesn't? That's Wei Baoheng, Princess Tongchang's consort."

Meanwhile, the storyteller in the building was still enthusiastically narrating: "This Princess Tongchang married Wei Baoheng, a scholar who passed the imperial examinations in the fifth year of Xiantong. The dowry that accompanied her—ten miles long! Rare treasures like the Pearl-Draped Canopy, the Cold-Dispelling Curtain, the Gemstone Screen, and the Divine Silk Quilt—it practically emptied the imperial treasury! Her residence in Guanghuali was even more extravagant: well rims of gold and silver, ladles of filigreed gold, a bed adorned with crystal, tortoiseshell, and eight precious stones, and household utensils carved from five-colored jade. Its splendor outshone even Emperor Wu of Han's famed 'Golden House' for Chen Ajiao!"

In the current Tang dynasty, where extravagance was the fashion, Princess Tongchang's wedding had naturally become the talk of the capital for years. Inside Zhuijin Tower, the crowd buzzed with discussions about the legendary dowry items worth cities, the atmosphere lively to the extreme.

Even Huang Zixiang couldn't resist asking, "Are these rumors true? Did Princess Tongchang's dowry really drain the treasury?"

"Not entirely, but close enough," Zhou Ziqin replied between mouthfuls of food, sighing. "That Wei Baoheng—what incredible luck! Back when we studied together at the Imperial Academy, he often skipped classes with me to steal bird eggs or catch loaches! Who'd have thought he'd later pass the imperial exams, marry a princess, and rise through the ranks as a Hanlin scholar, a Secretariat Drafter, and now, the Vice Minister of War! And me..."

He put on an exaggerated expression of despair. Huang Zixiang couldn't be bothered to humor him. "Aren't you about to head to Shu and fulfill your life's ambition?"

"Exactly! That's the meaning of my life!" Zhou Ziqin's face lit up as he brandished his chopsticks. "Hey, hey, let me brainstorm with you—how about 'Imperial-Appointed Constable, Royal-Granted Coroner' for my official title? What do you think?""Not great." Huang Ziyao was practically speechless.

"How about... 'Authorized by Imperial Decree to Perform Autopsies'?"

Huang Ziyao turned her face away, deciding she wouldn't speak to this person anymore.