The Golden Hairpin

"Not only that." Huang Zixiang stared fixedly at Zhang Xingying and continued, "Brother Zhang, you've known all along that Wei Ximin was one of the main culprits behind Dicui's suffering, haven't you?"

"Yes... I lied to you." Zhang Xingying finally spoke, his voice hoarse and strained, speaking with great difficulty and slowness, "I knew A-Di's true identity from the beginning. So I secretly went to Lü's Incense and Candle Shop, thinking about whether to tell A-Di's father that his daughter was now at my home, that she wasn't dead..."

When he arrived, however, he saw several people carrying rather heavy packages entering the shop, among them the palace eunuch Wei Ximin whom he had met once before.

The people from the princess's residence didn't come out for a long time. Hiding in a corner, he caught snippets of conversation mentioning "Dicui" and couldn't resist quietly moving to the window, pressing his ear against the wall to listen to what was being said inside.

First, he heard Wei Ximin's arrogant voice: "Old Man Lü, Dicui offended the princess first, so I ordered her to be beaten as punishment. Who knew she couldn't take it and passed out after just a few strikes? The princess's residence couldn't possibly keep her there to recover, so naturally, we threw her out. What happened afterward has nothing to do with us! Let me make this clear—what happened to your daughter was simply her bad luck and has absolutely nothing to do with the princess's residence! Now, out of pity, the princess and her consort are giving you this money to keep you from spreading rumors and tarnishing the princess's reputation. Do you understand?"

From inside came the sound of Lü Zhiyuan counting the silver, followed by his slow, deliberate voice: "Rest assured, gentlemen. My daughter has already taken the rope I gave her and found a quiet place to end her life. She will never appear before any of you again."

"Good that you know what's what." Wei Ximin tossed out the remark and left with the other eunuchs.

Crouched beneath the window, Zhang Xingying heard them muttering as they walked away: "That old bastard doesn't have many years left, yet he took the money without hesitation. Doesn't he realize he might not live long enough to spend it?"

"Exactly! With no sons or daughters left, who's he going to leave the money to when he dies?"

"Tch, with such a paltry sum, you'd think he'd be worried about not being able to spend it all!"

Recounting the events of that day, Zhang Xingying stared blankly for a moment before his gaze settled on Dicui's face. Softly, he said, "A-Di, it's all right now. Everyone who caused your suffering is dead... From now on, you'll surely live a good life."

Dicui stared back at him with reddened eyes, silent and wordless.

Zhou Ziqin, trembling with disbelief, asked, "Brother Zhang... could it be... could it be that you're the murderer?"

Zhang Xingying shook his head and defended himself, "It wasn't me. I truly wanted to kill them, but I never got the chance."

Huang Zixiang looked at the two sitting before her—one a tall, upright man, the other a delicate and capable woman. They should have made such a fine couple. Who could have imagined the storms of suffering and hardship that would befall them?

She sighed and motioned for Zhou Ziqin to put away the records. "Brother Zhang, I hope you're not lying to us this time. I hope we won't find any more evidence linking you to the crime."Zhang Xingying stood up, head bowed in silence. His tall and straight frame seemed slightly hunched at this moment, as if the weight upon him had become unbearable, involuntarily bending him, no longer able to carry the same spirited demeanor as before.

Huang Zixiao's gaze then fell upon Dicui, and she said with a sigh, "I hope that painting appears soon too. Handing it over to the Dali Temple early will settle one matter."

After leaving the Zhang residence, Huang Zixiao remained silent. Even Zhou Ziqin, who was usually full of life and cheer, uncharacteristically kept his mouth shut.

He rode his horse Xiaxia, following behind her horse Nafusha, trailing her eastward. Only after she circled around Liquanfang and entered the West Market did he finally ask, "Where are we going?"

Huang Zixiao replied, "To find the owner of Qian's Carriage and Horse Shop, Qian Guansuo."

Qian's Carriage and Horse Shop occupied a sizable storefront in the West Market, easily visible upon entry. Even larger was the area behind the shop—a vast courtyard with rows of stables. The short and stout owner, Qian Guansuo, was pacing contentedly among the stables, inspecting one horse, patting another, his face gleaming with joy.

"Boss Qian," Huang Zixiao greeted him.

The joy instantly faded from Qian Guansuo's face, replaced by an awkward mix of forced politeness and surprise. "Ah, Eunuch Yang! Eunuch Yang, I failed to welcome you properly—such negligence on my part!"

"Not at all. I didn’t want to disturb you, Boss Qian, so I came in unannounced to look at the horses," Huang Zixiao said, casually handing her horse to a stable hand.

The moment Qian Guansuo laid eyes on Nafusha, his face lit up. He hurried over, stroking the horse repeatedly, exclaiming, "What a fine horse, truly exceptional... In all my years handling horses, none have compared to this one! Eunuch, where did you acquire it?"

"Oh... The original owner found it too mild-tempered, so I’m temporarily riding it," Huang Zixiao replied before adding, "Boss Qian, never mind the horse. Today, I’ve come to ask for your help with something."

"Ah, you flatter me! Eunuch, ask me anything—I’ll hold nothing back!" he said, though his eyes kept darting back to the horse, filled with envy.

Zhou Ziqin gloomily led his horse Xiaxia, tying it beside Nafusha to graze. When Boss Qian spotted him, he quickly clasped his hands in greeting. "Young Master Zhou! Your presence honors our humble shop! It’s an honor to meet you!"

"You know me?" Zhou Ziqin asked.

"You jest—who in Chang’an doesn’t know you?"

Huang Zixiao glanced at Zhou Ziqin’s attire for the day—a peacock-blue silk robe, a bright orange belt, russet-red shoes, and still adorned with countless trinkets and accessories. Truly one of a kind in Chang’an, unforgettable at first sight.

Zhou Ziqin returned the gesture. "Boss Qian, I’ve long heard of your reputation. They say you’re the most successful businessman in the capital, amassing such wealth in just ten years—it’s practically legendary."

"Ah, you exaggerate. It’s all thanks to everyone’s support." Chuckling, he led them inside, seating them on a thick Persian rug before ordering tea. Then he asked, "What brings you two here today? Is it a matter requiring my humble services for Prince Kui’s household, or perhaps an errand for the Ministry of Justice?""To be frank, we have been temporarily assigned by the Dali Temple to investigate several cases related to the Princess's residence," Huang Zitang said straightforwardly.

The fat on Qian Guansuo's face trembled, his expression pained as if suffering from heartache: "Eunuch Yang, I’ve already confessed to you last time—I truly only met the consort three times, that’s it! As for the princess, I swear to heaven, I’ve never had the fortune of even laying eyes on her!"

"This time, I’m not here to ask about the consort," Huang Zitang said, holding a freshly brewed cup of tea, watching him through the rising steam. "I wanted to ask you, Boss Qian, about your... daughter’s matter from ten years ago."

The trembling fat on Qian Guansuo’s face froze. He stood there dumbfounded for a long moment before finally letting out a sigh and collapsing into his seat, looking like a pile of melted fat spilling onto the carpet. "Eunuch Yang, my daughter... sigh, I don’t know why you’re suddenly bringing up something from ten years ago."

"I heard that when you fled your hometown with your family, you were once penniless, nearly starving and freezing to death on the streets. And the first sum of money you used to start your business came from..."

"From selling my daughter," he interrupted weakly. "Sigh, I’ve been too ashamed to speak of it all these years, but since you already know, I’ll tell you. Ten years ago, the Yellow River changed its course, and my hometown was flooded—our house and fields were destroyed. I thought there was no way to survive, so I took my wife, daughter, and two sons and headed for the capital. But my wife fell ill on the journey and died. We had to bury her hastily by the roadside—later, when I became wealthy, I went back to search for her grave, but I could never find where we buried her. Sigh..."

Zhou Ziqin took out paper and a brush from his side and dutifully began taking notes.

Seeing him record the conversation, Qian Guansuo hesitated slightly but continued: "When we arrived in Chang’an, I stood on the streets with my three children and realized I was finished. Starting a business? No capital. Doing manual labor? I was so weak from hunger I had no strength left. So I had no choice but to beg on the streets with my children, barely scraping by, knowing that if things went on like this, all four of us would perish. Until one day, while begging with my children at a street corner, I saw a eunuch recruiting palace maids and eunuchs—five strings of cash per child! I looked at my three children and thought, if I sold one, I could get some capital, and maybe the other two would have a chance to survive. So I told Xing’er—my daughter—'Xing’er, your two younger brothers are still small, and when they grow up, they’ll carry on our family line, won’t they? How about you go with that eunuch?' Xing’er burst into tears, clinging to my leg and refusing to let go. I was at my wits’ end, so I crouched down, hugged her, and started crying too. I said, 'Xing’er, if you enter the palace as a maid, you’ll have nice clothes to wear and good food to eat. But if your brothers become eunuchs, their... little things will be cut off. Tell me, can you let your brothers suffer that? As their older sister, how can you be so selfish?'"At this point, Qian Guansuo's tears began to fall. A grown man in his forties sobbed, the tears streaming crookedly down his plump face in a comical yet pitiful manner. Neither Huang Zixiao nor Zhou Ziqin laughed, feeling only a deep ache in their chests.

"Ah, poverty makes men weak... Looking back now, wasn't I just a scoundrel to my daughter? In that kind of place, so many palace maids die silently every year, just tossed into mass graves—another girl gone. But back then, with no way out, I pinned all my hopes on Xing'er saving us. That's what I said, and that's what I did..." He hung his head, speaking weakly. "With the money from selling Xing'er, I started trading fodder. Later, while selling fodder, I met a nobleman who advised me to trade horses beyond the frontier. I was lucky—starting with two or three horses, then a dozen, and eventually my reputation grew. The court once ordered thousands of horses from me, and suddenly I became wealthy. I married another wife and took a concubine, hoping for another daughter. But all these years, only my concubine bore me another son. I think Heaven must be punishing me—I'll never have a daughter again in this lifetime..."

Huang Zixiao comforted him softly, "Master Qian, at least Heaven has been kind. Finding your daughter in the princess's residence is still a blessing."

"Yes, but Xing'er still won't forgive me..." he lamented. "I secretly went to the princess's residence to see her, but she refused to meet me. She only showed me the birthmark on her arm from behind a screen, never revealing her face. I've sent her some food and supplies, and she's given me things in return... But she just won't see me. She said the moment she was sold, she swore never to face me again." His shoulders slumped in dejection as he shook his head. "In this life, just knowing my daughter is alive and being able to exchange a few words with her—that's already my good fortune."

Even Zhou Ziqin couldn't help but ask, "How do you know... the person speaking to you from behind the screen is definitely your daughter?"

"Of course she is! The shape of the birthmark on her arm is exactly the same as my daughter's from back then, and the pale green color is identical too! If it's not her, then who else could it be?" Qian Guansuo shook his head firmly, defending the fact that he had reclaimed his daughter. "Besides, what good would it do to impersonate my daughter? I only send her some food—nothing of value. The only time she ever asked me for anything was when she mentioned whether there were those little porcelain dogs in the market outside—the ones she used to love but had been thrown away. I hurried to buy one and gave it to her the next time I visited. In return, she gave me a small box. I didn't think much of it, but when I opened it... ah, it really gave me a fright."