GHLCS Chapter63

“Nonsense,” The old maid laughed and scolded, “The Old Madam has kept this golden hairpin hidden for many years already. When have you ever seen it?”

 

Yuan Ye took a closer look and said, “I haven’t seen this one before, but I’ve seen one similar to this one. I asked the goldsmith before, and he said that the ones made into swallow styles are either flying swallows or holding willows or orioles returning to their nests… but this one is rare, with a swallow and peony together.”

 

“Flowers and birds—they’re all the same, aren’t they? More or less alike, so what makes them so special?”

 

“It is different, that much is true—but I can’t quite say how. Oh, and speaking of which, something happened to Governor Wang at the start of spring. I found a golden hairpin on him. While it wasn’t as finely made as this one, the design was about sixty percent similar—especially this golden swallow, which also had a peony in its beak…”

 

With a “snap”, the string of the Buddhist beads in Old Madam Yuan’s hand broke, and the beads rolled all over the floor. Her hands were empty, as if she had not reacted.

 

It is a taboo for the Buddhist beads to break for no reason. The old maid quickly put her hands together and said, “Amitabha, Amitabha, Young Master, don’t talk about killing here. The Buddha will blame you if he hears it!”

 

This incident attracted Yuan Ye’s attention. He noticed that there was a slight fluctuation in Old Madam Yuan’s eyes, and she began to mutter, “Karma… karma…”

 

He called out, “Grandma?”

 

Old Madam Yuan bowed to the Buddha statue with a solemn expression, then stood up and said to Yuan Ye, “Go back and tell your father that I will be there on that day.”

 

After that, she said she was tired and needed to rest and asked Yuan Ye to leave Songquan Hall with a few words.

 

Xiao Jing, who was outside the hall, came over and saw Yuan Ye lowering his head in deep thought, so he asked, “Young Master, the Old Madam is not willing?”

 

“She’s willing…” Yuan Ye held the golden hairpin in his hand, with question marks written between his eyes. He had originally put this matter aside, but he didn’t expect that after coming to Songquan Hall today, it would stir up waves again. It’s clear that some matters can’t be overlooked—they need to be thoroughly investigated.

 

He had a strong feeling that this hairpin was deeply connected to his family.

 

The first time this hairpin surfaced, it brought a bloody disaster. If it had shown up again now… he didn’t know what to expect. Shaking his head, Yuan Ye turned and walked toward home.

 

A gust of wind suddenly blew past the trees on the wall of the mansion, making people feel chilly. Yuan Ye looked back, blinked, and looked again.

 

“Xiao Jing, did you see anyone just now?”

 

Xiao Jing also looked in the direction Yuan Ye was looking at: “No, it seems like it’s almost time for the patrolmen to change shifts at this time, maybe it’s them.”

 

Just now, Yuan Ye vaguely felt that someone was walking by the wall, but because of the wind, he didn’t know whether it was the shadow of the tree or his own eyesight. After hearing what Xiao Jing said, he didn’t think about it anymore.

 

Everything was weird tonight. Yuan Ye put the hairpin in his arms and hurried back.

 

On the other side of the wall was the side yard of the Military Control Commissioner’s mansion, where Cong Lin had once been held. Lao Yang had used part of his new reward money to buy a few taels of Erqu wine. After drinking until his nose turned red, he hummed a flower drum tune and smoked a cigarette as he made his way back to his little firewood shack.

 

He sat down on the small square stool and took another sip. Thinking over his age, he realized he was already past sixty. In the end, with no wife, no children, he was truly alone—without anyone to rely on.

 

He didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t burned enough incense or if his ancestors hadn’t done enough good deeds. In the end, it was all just fate.

 

He groaned for a while and was about to rest when he heard footsteps outside, followed by a knock on the door.

 

“Who is it?” It was the middle of the night. Could it be that the master had some instructions?

 

There was no response from inside the door. Lao Yang called a few more times, but all he heard was the sound of the wind and the slow tapping of his knuckles on the door.

 

Really, servants nowadays are more ignorant than each other, and they can’t even answer a call. Lao Yang walked to the door and pulled the bolt: “Coming, coming, what’s going on so late at night?”

 

As the door creaked open, a cold gust of wind rushed in. Lao Yang shuddered and looked up, only to find a young man in a black cloak standing before him. He was unfamiliar and didn’t appear to be a servant of the mansion.

 

“Who are you…?”

 

The young man pulled off the hood of his black cloak, revealing his face fully to Lao Yang. With no hint of warmth in his voice, he asked, “Uncle Yang, do you still remember me?”

 

This question has a lot of background. Lao Yang narrowed his eyes when he heard it and looked at him carefully for a while, first approaching and then retreating, trying to dig out the information of this person from his memory: “Hiss, who are you… you, you are not from the mansion, right? How did you get in?”

 

Seeing that Lao Yang couldn’t remember much, that person sighed with a little disappointment and spoke again.

 

“Uncle Yang, did you remember to bring back the sugar rice cake I asked for?”

 

It was a completely nonsensical question, yet Lao Yang’s memory, like a pebble sinking into the sea, was snagged by those words and slowly surfaced.

 

It seemed that many years ago, there was also such a person who pulled his sleeve and acted like a spoiled child to him, asking for sugar rice cakes.

 

He suddenly recalled a familiar figure, someone he thought he would never see again in this lifetime. His eyes widened in shock, and with trembling fingers, he pointed at him, stammering, “You… you can’t be…”

 

“It seems you remembered.”

 

The person smiled and raised his right hand in front of Lao Yang’s incredulous eyes. In his palm was a golden hairpin, which pierced Lao Yang’s heart before he could even react.

 

“Ugh!” Lao Yang groaned, covering his injured area and stepping back repeatedly. Blood plasma spurted out, staining his whitened jacket.

 

Everything happened so quickly that Lao Yang had no time to respond. That person remained standing at the doorway, not stepping inside, simply watching him with a cold, detached gaze.

 

A haze of blood clouded his vision, flickering before his eyes until the figure at the door became a blur. Lao Yang clutched the edge of the table with one hand, his body slowly sliding down until he collapsed onto the floor. Just before everything faded, he saw the man’s lips move slightly—he seemed to say two words.

 

Karma.

 

After saying that, he slowly turned and left.

 

Gathering his last bit of strength, Lao Yang moved his body towards a small cabinet beside the bed. With a trembling hand, he fumbled desperately, and after a long time, he took out a small object. He held it tightly in his arms, muttering to himself.

 

It felt as though his trachea had been severed, and all his strength was draining away. He was exhaling more than he could inhale, gasping with his mouth wide open like a fish out of water—yet no breath would come.

 

He coughed up a mouthful of blood, and then his head tilted and he died.