The Golden Hairpin

Princess Tongchang suddenly turned around, her voice slightly altered as she asked, "Pan Shufei of Southern Qi—that was hundreds of years ago. Her meaning, saying I should return it to her... does it, does it mean I should also..."

"Your Highness need not worry," Huang Zixiao reassured her, seeing the lingering fear in her expression. "It's just a dream, fleeting and insubstantial, as transient as the wind. There's no need to dwell on it. In my humble opinion, it might simply be a manifestation of the worries weighing on Your Highness's mind recently."

"Is that so?" The princess studied her for a long moment before suddenly reaching up to remove the Nine Phoenix Hairpin from her hair and holding it out. "Eunuch Yang, take a look."

Huang Zixiao accepted the hairpin and examined it closely. Behind the intricately entwined nine-colored phoenixes was a crescent-shaped tail, upon which two small ancient seal characters were engraved: Yu'er.

"This hairpin indeed belonged to Pan Yuer, the Noble Consort of Southern Qi," she sighed. "Now do you understand why I'm so deeply troubled? First, the eunuch by my side met with misfortune, then my consort, and now... I've had such an ominous nightmare. Tell me, how can I not be anxious?"

"Please, Your Highness, do not overthink it. I will devote myself fully to this case and strive to solve it swiftly, giving Your Highness the answers you seek." Seeing the princess's state, Huang Zixiao knew further comfort would be futile and kept her words brief.

Somewhat consoled, Princess Tongchang said, "If you can truly apprehend the culprit who harmed my consort and killed Wei Ximin, I shall reward you handsomely—or even if it's divine retribution, you must uncover why those around me are being punished by heaven."

Observing the princess's delicate yet sharp and stubborn features, Huang Zixiao couldn't help but sigh inwardly. "Thank you, Your Highness. This is my duty, and you need not worry. I will spare no effort in investigating this case."

After bidding farewell to Princess Tongchang, Huang Zixiao slowly descended the high platform alone.

The wind atop the terrace lifted the thin crimson gauze of her outer robe. Holding back the wide sleeves that obscured her vision, she stepped off the final stair and looked up—only to see a figure approaching leisurely from beneath the silk trees.

The summer heat was intense, and the flowers were in full bloom.

Clusters of silk tree blossoms bloomed like clouds and mist, falling even without a breeze. These nearly blazing flowers, under the fierce summer sun, bloomed and scattered without reservation.

The profusion of flowers was bewitchingly extravagant. The drooping branches of the silk trees brushed against the palace eaves, half-concealing the approaching figure. Even without a clear view, one could sense his captivating grace.

And Huang Zixiao, merely glimpsing his silhouette, felt the cold sweat forming in her palms.

She swiftly turned and hid behind a tall silk tree, suppressing the trembling in her body as she watched him intently.

The man drew nearer, silent yet exuding an elegance as profound as ink wash painting. Like the silver glow of a new moon, his presence cast a gentle light—neither glaring nor dim, but perfectly balanced.

As if sensing someone behind the tree, he lifted his head amidst the sea of blossoms and gazed in her direction with eyes that seemed capable of enchanting all things under heaven.She instinctively pressed her back against the tree trunk, as if afraid he might see her. She tried to suppress her breathing, fearing that with even a single exhale, something inside her might burst forth uncontrollably.

Yu Xuan.

Why was he in the princess's residence?

And at such an early hour, when the princess and her consort were living apart.

Soft footsteps approached, rustling through the grass.

He walked to the tree where she was hiding, his voice gentle: "Eunuch, are you unwell? Do you need help?"

Only then did she realize that the edge of her robe, visible beyond the tree, was trembling slightly from her efforts to remain still—as though she were ill.

She quickly pulled her robe back, turning her back to him and shaking her head stiffly.

Still concerned, he asked, "Are you sure you're alright?"

Huang Zixiao gritted her teeth and strode forward without a word.

The moment she moved, the smile on his face froze. He stared fixedly at her retreating figure, and as her steps grew hurried, he called out softly, "Xiao..."

That single word reached her ears like a dream. His voice, as if from a distant past, rippled through her mind like waves, lingering unbearably.

Her steps halted involuntarily, and she stood there, stunned. After a long pause, she turned to face Yu Xuan behind her.

He was staring at her, his expression not just filled with hatred, but something far more complex. He looked at her as though gazing at a dream long dead, at a flower he had once nurtured now rotting into mud.

She met his gaze and, after a long silence, whispered his name: "Yu Xuan."

In this deserted grove beneath the silk trees, the scorching summer breeze rustled the leaves, sending a shower of pink blossoms drifting down. Both of them were soon covered in the delicate petals, clinging like silk threads, impossible to brush away.

Huang Zixiao, draped in blossoms, gazed at him quietly, as if looking back at the girlhood she had lost forever.

"The princess ordered me... to investigate two suspicious cases in the residence."

He watched her, his eyes filled with a distant yet intimate detachment, a sorrow both present and absent. After a long silence, he finally clenched his jaw, a cold smile forming on his lips: "Of course. After killing your own family, you still manage to thrive in your old profession, winning everyone's admiration."

"I will return to Shu Commandery—right after... the cases in the princess's residence are resolved." She forced down the bitter ache rising in her chest and defended herself, "Prince Kui has promised to help me. Soon, I will return to thoroughly reinvestigate my family's case!"

He was stunned, staring at her in disbelief: "You... will go back?"

"Why not? I will not only clear my own name but also uncover the truth behind my family's massacre!" She pressed a hand to her chest, her heart pounding wildly. She could barely contain her emotions, breathing heavily before forcing out each tear-laden word: "I will find that murderer with my own hands—and avenge my parents, my brother, my grandmother, and my uncle!"

Yu Xuan, standing just a few steps away, stared at her intently, listening to her vow as a storm of emotions raged in his eyes. Yet he couldn't bring himself to accept her defense so easily. He lowered his gaze, taking a slow step back, and murmured, "Huang Zixiao, the evidence of your crime was irrefutable. I... cannot believe you."Her heart seemed to stop beating at that moment. The falling petals around them, the beautiful scenery—all turned illusory.

Yet Huang Zixiang stood before him, facing his resolute words, trembling with cold, and suddenly, she smiled. The silk tree flowers bloomed and fell like rain, and she gazed at him from a distance, her smile as bright as it had been years ago.

She smiled and said, “Don’t worry, Yu Xuan. I’ll uncover the mastermind behind this for you. There’s never been a case I couldn’t solve, and for this one—I’ll stake my life on it!”

Though she smiled, tears welled in her eyes, unnoticed by her. She turned sharply and strode away through the silk trees.

She walked faster and faster, until she was nearly running, fleeing without a backward glance.

Only when she had left the grove did she stop, dazed, and look up. Through the sparse branches overhead, she saw him slowly ascending the high platform.

The wind lifted his robes, making him seem ethereal, transcendent—his grace indescribable, beyond words.

Had their reunion stirred even the slightest ripple in his heart?

She averted her gaze and looked up at the sky. The blue expanse was unreachable, bright and piercing. The tears she had held back finally spilled from her burning eyes.

Huang Zixiang clenched her teeth, the sharp pain grounding her scattered thoughts.

She took deep, steadying breaths, forcing the agony in her chest to subside.

Again and again, she turned her mind to Wei Ximin’s death, the consort’s fall from his horse, and the princess’s dream—desperately searching for a connection between the three, anything to divert her thoughts from Yu Xuan.

By the time she reached the moon gate along the silk tree path, she had regained her composure—at least outwardly.

Chuizhu was waiting for her at the gate, smiling as she approached. “The consort is staying at Suwei Garden. Let me show you the way.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your help.”

Chuizhu gave a coy smile and led the way with graceful steps. When they reached a certain gate, she hesitated, then lowered her hand and took a longer detour. Even without knowing the estate’s layout, Huang Zixiang could tell she had deliberately avoided it.

Glancing back at the locked gate, Huang Zixiang asked casually, “What’s over there? Why is it locked?”

Chuizhu hesitated before answering, “That’s Zhijin Garden. It’s full of banana plants and irises—perfect for summer retreats. But since last month, people have heard crying there at night. Everyone says—” She glanced around and lowered her voice, “They say it’s haunted. The princess had a Daoist priest perform rites and locked the gate. They say it’ll take ten years to cleanse the resentment before it can be reopened.”

Huang Zixiang didn’t believe in ghosts, but she still cast a long look at Zhijin Garden, committing it to memory.

Suwei Garden, where the consort resided, was filled with crape myrtles in full bloom, their cascading flowers creating a lively scene.

The consort was chatting and laughing with Cui Chunzhan. When he saw her being led in by the maid, Wei Baoheng grinned. “Eunuch Yang! We were just talking about yesterday’s polo match! You’re quite skilled—we should play again sometime!”

Huang Zixiang smiled. “Not at all. The consort’s prowess is unmatched—truly admirable.”Cui Chunzhan looked at Huang Zitang in disbelief, "What? Eunuch Yang is that good at polo? I never would have guessed."

"Never judge a book by its cover, right?" Wei Baoheng laughed. "When Wang Yun first invited me to play, I said, 'Zhou Ziqin is a complete amateur, that big guy Zhang Xingying doesn’t even own a horse at home, and then there’s Eunuch Yang. Even if I took them all on alone, it’d be bullying! And now I’m teaming up with Wang Yun—it’s downright unfair!' Hahaha, who’d have thought we’d end up losing to them?"

Cui Chunzhan’s jaw nearly dropped. "Wasn’t yesterday’s match called off because your horse had an accident?"

"Ah, a loss is a loss. And with Prince Kui joining the game, how could I dare continue?" He turned to Huang Zitang with a grin. "Speaking of which, Eunuch Yang, you must have quite the influence—being the first in the capital to gather three princes to play for you."

"Not at all. The princes only agreed because they knew their opponent was the imperial son-in-law. I don’t have that kind of pull," Huang Zitang quickly replied.

"Ah, what a disgrace for me this time—falling off my horse mid-game, ruining years of reputation in a single day!" Wei Baoheng said, though he didn’t seem the least bit upset. He cheerfully rolled up his sleeve to show them. "See? The biggest wound on me—two inches long, half an inch wide. Just a scrape."

Cui Chunzhan was both exasperated and amused, slapping Wei Baoheng’s elbow. "Oh, come on! A grown man like you, making a fuss over such a tiny scratch!"

"The princess said, 'A wound is a wound. If it scars your face, you won’t be fit to be the imperial son-in-law anymore,'" he declared matter-of-factly. Then, turning to Huang Zitang, he added, "Eunuch Yang, I’ve been thinking about this all day yesterday, but I just can’t figure it out. When exactly was the horse I randomly picked tampered with? I’ve gone over it again and again, and it seems impossible for anyone to have had the chance."

"I’m still at a loss myself. This matter likely requires further investigation," Huang Zitang said before asking, "Has there been anyone or anything unusual around you recently, Your Highness?"

Wei Baoheng frowned in thought for a long while before saying, "Not that I can recall."

"Hmm..." As Huang Zitang pondered, Wei Baoheng suddenly slapped the table. "Wait! There is one thing—a truly bizarre encounter I had recently. Hard to put into words!"

"What?" Huang Zitang and Cui Chunzhan pressed.

"A young eunuch—delicate, slender, and refined-looking—yet playing polo more fiercely than a whole squad of burly men from the Capital Defense Bureau. That’s the strangest thing I’ve come across lately!"

"Your Highness, please, spare me the jest!" Huang Zitang said with a wry smile. She stood and paced the room, her eyes landing on a painting hanging on the wall—a vibrant red sprig of cardamom with faint hints of green leaves. Beside it was a poetic inscription inspired by Du Mu:

"Graceful and delicate, just past thirteen,

Like cardamom atop a branch in early spring.

On the ten-mile road of Yangzhou in the breeze,

No pearl-curtained beauty could compare."

Noticing the signature, Huang Zitang couldn’t help but praise, "Your Highness truly excels in both calligraphy and painting."

"Excels? Back at the Imperial Academy, Zhou Ziqin and I skipped classes every day to climb trees and catch birds," Wei Baoheng said with a dismissive wave. "It’s all my father’s doing, forcing me into this. Ah, what a pain."Cui Chunzhan then said, "This poem is also a favorite of mine. A girl of thirteen or fourteen, tender as a budding flower, so fresh and delicate, utterly enchanting..."

Wei Baoheng shot him a glare. "And how old is your esteemed wife?"

"Ahem... three years older than me. But in my heart, she will always be that fresh, delicate, and enchanting young girl!"

Huang Zixiang ignored the two men, focusing instead on the painting as she remarked, "The Marquis Consort has captured the essence of 'budding flower' beautifully. In fact, those two characters are the finest in the entire poem."

A shadow briefly crossed Wei Baoheng's face, but in the end, he merely smiled without a word.