"Enough." The Empress Dowager waved her hand gently. Her oriental pearl armor gleamed coldly in the candlelight, as if announcing the end of this farce. A maid beside her immediately and respectfully presented a gilded brocade box. The moment the lid opened, a phoenix hairpin inlaid with red gold and kingfisher feathers appeared before her eyes. The pigeon-blood ruby ​​on the hairpin's head was dazzling and brilliant, even more brilliant than the pearls and kingfisher jade on my dance costume, as if condensing all the beauty and glory of the world. "Su Jinli, I give you this 'Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix Hairpin.' May you, like this phoenix, soar into the world of literature with brilliant works and shine brightly." The Empress Dowager's voice was filled with hope and blessing, like a warm spring breeze caressing my heart.

When the coolness of the hairpin touched my fingertips, Jiang Yan, sitting in the audience, immediately made a "sugar cake" gesture. The curve of his lips was exactly the same as when he delivered snacks at the corner gate three days ago, with a familiar tenderness and doting. The young marquis suddenly rushed out of the crowd like a small, energetic cannonball, swinging his wooden sword in the air, almost hitting the gilded incense burner nearby. "My sister is the best! A hundred times stronger than Lin Wanyue!" His clear and loud voice echoed in the hall like the cheerful chirping of birds, adding a bit of liveliness and vitality to the slightly solemn atmosphere.

The entire palace erupted in laughter. The Empress Dowager pointed at the young marquis, her face beaming with affection. "This little bully is truly protective of his sister." Turning to look at me, her gaze now warm and gentle, she said, "Su Jinli, I will grant your poetry club free rein in the palace. If you produce any good works, please bring them to me." This gracious permission from the Empress Dowager opened a door to a wider world for the poetry club and also began a new chapter in my life.

As time slipped by, dusk, like a vast piece of silk, slowly drifted across the palace walls. Jiang Yan, leading a white horse, stood quietly in the shadow of the Shenwu Gate's corner tower. The horse's figure was agile and sleek, shining like a star in the night sky. Seeing me approach, Jiang Yan smiled and handed me an oil-paper package. The package was still steaming, as if wrapped in warmth and care. Opening the package, I saw twelve plum blossom pastries squeezed crookedly inside. Each piece was meticulously inscribed with delicate icing sugar: "Jinli is the best." The handwriting, though not neat, was filled with deep affection.

"Congratulations, Mr. Jinxin, on your fame spreading throughout the Nine Cities," Jiang Yan said softly, his voice like a spring breeze, gently caressing my ears. He carefully removed my heavy dance gown, the cuff of his moon-white brocade robe brushing against the phoenix hairpin in my hair, like a gentle encounter. "Does the Empress Dowager like the hairpin?" He asked, his head lowered slightly, his eyes filled with concern.

"Of course it suits my taste." I smiled and picked up a piece of plum blossom pastry, the icing lightly touching my fingertips, as if adding a touch of sweetness to this beautiful moment. "But compared to this, I like you more..." I paused deliberately, a sly glint in my eyes.

"What do you like more?" Jiang Yan's voice suddenly grew hoarse, tinged with a hint of nervousness and anticipation. The tassel of the bamboo flute at his waist trembled slightly as it brushed the back of my hand, as if it too was sensing the subtle atmosphere. Behind him, the white horse Zhaoye seemed to sense his master's mood, pawing impatiently. A small bamboo basket hung from its saddle, from which rolled out a sparkling sugar-painted phoenix, shimmering enchantingly in the twilight.

I looked at his ears, suddenly reddening, as adorable as ripe cherries, and couldn't help but recall the note he slipped me at the corner door three days ago, a clumsy yet childlike drawing of a candy cake figurine. "I prefer Jiang Zhuangyuan's candy cakes," I said, my face deliberately stern, feigning seriousness. "They're sweeter than poetry, more beautiful than paintings, but..." I paused again, whetting his appetite.

"What is it?" He involuntarily took half a step forward, his black hair blown by the evening breeze, revealing the tiny red mole on the tip of his ear, which looked particularly charming in the twilight.

"He always draws crooked things." I couldn't help but laugh, then pulled out the bamboo orchid hairpin he'd given me. The veins on the hairpin still carried the fresh scent of bamboo, as if carrying his own scent. "For example, this one, the orchid is carved to look like a leek," I teased playfully, my eyes full of laughter.

Jiang Yan was stunned at first, then he burst into laughter. His laughter was so hearty and cheerful that the copper bells on the eaves of the corner building jingled, as if they were also singing for our joy. He took out a brocade box from his sleeve and opened it gently. Inside was a filigree golden phoenix hairpin lying quietly. The golden phoenix hairpin was exquisitely crafted. The tail feathers of the phoenix were adorned with twelve oriental pearls the size of millet grains. They shimmered softly in the twilight, like the twinkling stars in the night sky. "I bought this with my first salary, and..." He took out a stack of papers from his arms, "This is the account I settled for the Future Bookstore. From now on, all the money earned every month will be under your control." His eyes were full of determination and love, as if he was describing our beautiful future to me.

The setting sun cast our shadows into long, timeless scrolls. From afar, the familiar voice of the young marquis rang out, "Sister! Jiang Zhuangyuan! Dad sent me to call you for longevity noodles!" My eldest sister followed him slowly, dangling a mother-of-pearl box. Presumably, it contained a freshly blended "Zhuangyuanhong" rouge, her love and blessing for me.

I watched Jiang Yan's hands tremble with nervousness, and a warm feeling welled up in my heart. I gently tucked the orchid hairpin back into my hair. The tassel of the phoenix hairpin touched the orchid leaves, as if they too were telling a beautiful story. "I can take care of the account," I said, standing on tiptoe and removing the sugar-painted phoenix from his saddle. The sugar phoenix shimmered in my hands. "But not even one of the ten-mile sugar-painted red makeup can be missing." I raised my chin slightly, a hint of playfulness and determination in my eyes.

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