The Golden Hairpin

Huang Zixiang listened while holding up a lantern, surveying the room carefully.

Just as Zhou Ziqin had described, it was a dilapidated earthen house, practically bare to the walls. Directly facing the entrance was a low bed piled haphazardly with clutter, placed almost right across the doorway. There wasn’t even a table inside—just a makeshift stove in the left corner with a few chipped earthen pots and scattered firewood beside it, along with a broken rice jar. On the right, a worn-out stool leaned against the wall, with a low table about two feet long in front of it, also cluttered with various odds and ends.

Huang Zixiang first sifted through the ashes in the stove but found no remnants of incense. She then examined the items on the low table—mostly everyday objects like baskets and flints, all covered in dust.

She moved to the bed and crouched down to inspect it. The cramped space left little room, making the bed as narrow as a door plank. Yet, even this tiny space was piled with things: tattered clothes, a rusted pair of scissors, a whetstone, two bundles of yellow ritual paper, and a gourd.

Scattered on the floor in front of the bed were a few more items—a wooden pillow, a broken black roof tile, and some mugwort wrapped in dried lotus leaves.

As she was looking, the village head arrived, still rubbing sleep from his eyes, bowing obsequiously. "Honorable officers, didn’t the constables just finish their inspection? Why trouble yourselves to come again in the middle of the night..."

Zhou Ziqin thumped his chest righteously. "We serve the emperor and uphold justice, dedicated to our duty! What does the hour matter? Where there’s a corpse—no, injustice—there we shall be!"

The village head straightened with newfound respect and hastily bowed again. "Yes, yes!"

Huang Zixiang shot Zhou Ziqin an exasperated glance before pointing to the items on the bed and asking the village head, "Elder, do you know what all these things are for?"

The village head glanced over and grimaced. "Of course. It’s all that nonsense."

"Nonsense?" Zhou Ziqin pressed.

"Didn’t he commit that infamous crime before? Somehow, he got away with it, and he’s been bragging about it ever since—utterly disgraceful! Then, after that fire at Jianfu Temple killed a eunuch from the princess’s household, he panicked, afraid divine retribution would come for him too. So he started scrambling for anything to ward off evil. Look, officers—this roof tile’s soaked in black dog’s blood, this yellow paper’s been sprayed with holy water, and these scissors are for protection. And the walls—look!"

He raised his lantern, illuminating a chaotic mess of talismans and scrolls plastered on the walls—some new, some old, some Daoist, some Buddhist. A wooden plaque of Guanyin hung by the window, a small iron plaque of Mulian saving his mother was nailed to the door, and above the bed was even a painting of the Child-Giving Bodhisattva.

Zhou Ziqin couldn’t help pointing at the bed. "With such a tiny, cluttered bed, how did he even turn over in his sleep?"“Does he even need to turn over? Covered in festering sores, he could only sleep on his side—how could he turn?” The village chief clearly despised this local disgrace, his tone dripping with contempt. “Listen, I’m not exaggerating—when his body was discovered this afternoon, everyone said it was retribution! Ruining an innocent girl and then bragging about it everywhere, driving her to suicide. And now, karma strikes fast! Even hiding inside, barring the door, locking the windows, plastering talismans everywhere, never stepping out—still, he ended up dead!”

Zhou Ziqin nodded in agreement. “Exactly! That’s why one must never do evil!”

Encouraged by the validation, the chief rambled on. “They say when they broke open Sun the Lout’s door this afternoon, everyone saw a surge of vengeful energy burst out, a sinister aura soaring into the sky! Everyone believes it was the wronged girl’s spirit, finally avenged, now at peace!”

Huang Ziyao and Zhou Ziqin exchanged glances but stayed silent—after all, they had just spoken to the supposedly “wronged” Dicui that very afternoon.

After inspecting the room, the door latch, and window locks, Zhou Ziqin resealed the place with a strip marked with his surname, “Zhou.”

Wang Yun removed his face covering, glanced back at the house, then turned to Huang Ziyao with admiration. “Chonggu, today I truly realized how tough your work is. I’m impressed.”

Huang Ziyao averted her eyes, murmuring, “It’s not always this bad…”

“Oh, this is nothing! You should’ve seen the last time—digging up a corpse, or fishing one out of the drainage ditch…”

Pretending not to hear, Huang Ziyao walked over to her horse, Na Fusha.

Wang Yun followed, asking, “How could someone be killed in a room with virtually no flaws? And how… will you uncover the truth?”

Mounting her horse, she replied softly, “We’ll take it step by step. No crime can stay hidden forever.”

“Exactly! In my eyes, Chonggu is a genius investigator, on par with the one I admire most. There’s no case she can’t crack!” Zhou Ziqin boasted proudly, as if her glory were his own.

Huang Ziyao wasn’t sure whether to thank him for omitting “Huang Ziyao” after “the one I admire most”—Zhou Ziqin wasn’t foolish enough to reveal in front of Wang Yun that his beloved was the latter’s fiancée.

Fortunately, Wang Yun showed no interest in Zhou Ziqin’s romantic pursuits. At the crossroads, he smiled faintly at Huang Ziyao. “Well then, Chonggu, Ziqin, see you tomorrow.”

“Absolutely! We’ll be on time for dinner at your place!” Zhou Ziqin waved.

Once Wang Yun left, Zhou Ziqin rode lazily beside her, discussing the case. “Chonggu, this one’s really tricky, don’t you think?”

Huang Ziyao nodded. “Yes. The door latch and window locks are different from the ones at the mortuary—no way to pick them with a copper strip or anything.”

“Exactly,” Zhou Ziqin groaned. “It’s almost as if the victim died inside an impenetrable iron cage!”At this point, he paused, then suddenly exclaimed, "Chonggu! You... do you remember that painting in Zhang Xingying's house? The one enshrined in the main hall, said to be a strange gift from the late emperor!"

Huang Zixiao nodded slowly. "Of course, I remember."

"The three bizarre deaths depicted in that painting... the first, struck by lightning and burned to death; the second, trapped and starved in an iron cage; the third, pecked to death by a phoenix!" Zhou Ziqin looked at her, his face a mix of excitement and horror. "Now, two of these three deaths have already appeared among Diecui's enemies!"

Huang Zixiao, preoccupied with her thoughts, merely nodded. "Hmm."

"Aren’t you surprised at all? Do you think it’s a coincidence, or someone’s deliberate doing? Doesn’t it strike you as too strange?"

"Ziqin," Huang Zixiao turned to him, her gaze calm under the dim streetlights. "Let’s discuss this with Second Brother Zhang tomorrow at the Capital Defense Office."

Zhou Ziqin nodded emphatically, his face brimming with pride. "See, Chonggu, for once I’ve thought of something you haven’t!"

"Indeed... I’m humbled," she replied, her eyes fixed on the distant silhouette of Prince Kui’s residence, her mind inevitably drawn to the most pressing question—

Would the third death appear?

The next day dawned clear and bright. In a city of millions like Chang’an, the deaths of one or two individuals were insignificant, and life remained undisturbed.

When Li Shubai took Huang Zixiao to the Ministry of Works, he didn’t even step out of the carriage, merely asking where the waterway was being dredged that day before heading straight there.

Today, the Ministry of Works was repairing the waterways in Tongji Ward. Upon arrival, they saw a group of laborers hauling mud from the drainage entrance. The Ministry’s official, Jiang, crouched nearby, peering into the dark, foul-smelling depths below, his nose wrinkled in disgust as he watched helplessly.

Li Shubai and Huang Zixiao alighted just as the foreman reported to Official Jiang, saying, "The passage below is completely clear now, sir. Could we settle the payment promptly?"

Official Jiang hesitated. "Are you sure it’s fully cleared?"

"Trust me on this!" The foreman thumped his chest confidently. "After all, it’s only because the Ministry trusts me that I got this job—I’d never mess it up! If it’s not properly dredged, you can come straight to me!"

"So, the passage below should be unobstructed?" Li Shubai asked leisurely from behind Official Jiang.

Unaware of his identity but recognizing his noble bearing, the foreman quickly replied, "Oh, rest assured, my lord! Zhang Liuer never fails at his tasks!"

Official Jiang turned and, spotting Li Shubai, hurriedly bowed. "Prince Kui! You shouldn’t be in such a filthy place! Please, move upwind—"

"No need." Li Shubai, known throughout the capital for his fastidiousness, stood by the drainage entrance and asked, "This Zhang Liuer—he’s in charge of this?"

"Yes, he knows every drain and sewer in Chang’an like the back of his hand. A few years ago, the Ministry formalized the labor crews for the waterways, and he became the foreman. He receives a monthly stipend from the Ministry, plus additional payment for each dredging job."Huang Zihuang listened from behind, thinking to herself, Who came up with such a lousy rule—paying extra for each unclogging? No wonder these guys are hoping for the drains to clog every other day, small blockages every three days and major ones every five. How could they possibly do their jobs properly?

Li Shubai didn’t say anything, merely gesturing for Zhang Liuer to come forward before asking, “Is it really unclogged down there?”

“It really is, I swear!”

“By ‘unclogged,’ do you mean you just dug a hole through the sludge and debris to barely allow drainage, just to get the job done? Or have you actually cleared all the mud and garbage from the channel, leaving no obstructions?”

“Oh, Your Highness, how could you say such a thing! Of course, we cleared everything out—not a speck of mud left behind!” Zhang Liuer, certain that Li Shubai wouldn’t personally inspect the drain, spoke with exaggerated conviction. “The court provides us with our monthly wages, and we know this work concerns the livelihood of Chang’an’s people. How could we dare to slack off? Every one of us gives our utmost effort, not daring the slightest negligence!”

“Good.” Without further comment, Li Shubai signaled Jing You to bring forward the two large locks. The hefty iron locks were indeed eye-catching, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Starting today, the Ministry of Works has new regulations for the drainage system, and I’ll be enforcing them for the first time. Since you claim the passage below is completely clear, and knowing that our dynasty’s drains are built with blue bricks—three feet high and five feet wide—it shouldn’t be difficult for a person to walk bent over inside, let alone crawl.” Li Shubai pointed to the first lock. “After the drain is cleared, you, as the laborer in charge, will go down into the channel. I will personally lock the entrance, and you can proceed through the unobstructed drain while I walk aboveground. I’ll follow the path you’ve supposedly cleared to the exit, then turn back and walk it again. When I reach the exit for the second time, whether you’ve emerged or not, I’ll lock it with the second lock and take the keys with me.”

Zhang Liuer’s face instantly turned ashen, his lips purplish, his throat emitting incoherent sounds as he struggled to speak.

Li Shubai picked up the first lock, signaling Huang Zihuang to open it and prepare to seal the drain. “Also, since you claim there’s not a speck of mud left down there, if you come out covered in too much grime, I might not be too pleased.”

“Y-Your Highness!” Zhang Liuer trembled like a sieve, collapsing to his knees in the middle of the street. “P-please allow this lowly one to... to inspect it once more... lest... lest there be any oversights!”

With a faint smirk, Li Shubai placed the lock back on the tray. “Go ahead.”