"Be careful with your words." Jiang Jinzhao paused on the characters "Fu Shou An Kang," his ink stains forming a dark cloud. The coarse earthenware inkstone on his desk reflected the corners of his tightly pursed lips.
As the morning light filtered through the window paper, the red gate of the Yongding Marquis's mansion flung open. Jiang Songyi, wearing a scarlet-colored blouse and skirt woven with gold, stood at the steps. The silver hairpins in her hair pricked Jiang Yuyao's eyes—they were tribute from the northern border, taken from the warehouse only yesterday.
"Sister, you look so glorious today." Jiang Yuyao twisted her handkerchief and forced a smile. "You're not like me when I was a 15-year-old."
"Second sister, be careful with your words." Jiang Jinzhao suddenly said, "Among the guests today are people from the Censorate."
Amidst the sound of drums and music, Jiang Dinglian helped the old lady to her seat. The oriental pearl dangling from the phoenix hairpin on Xu's temples was the most valuable of the Mei family's apology gifts. Jiang Yuyao dug her nails into her palm; at her coming of age, she had only received a pair of plain silver bracelets.
"His Royal Highness the Crown Prince has arrived—"
Xin Yidao walked into the main hall wrapped in fox fur, her pale fingertips brushing the hairpins at Jiang Songyi's temples. "The county lady's hair ornaments. Ahem. Very unique."
Jiang Songyi knelt and saluted, the red mark on her neck faintly visible in the candlelight. "Your Highness, thank you for the compliment. It's just a relic of my late mother."
Xuan Qi gripped the hilt of his sword on the beam. Three years ago, on a snowy night in the northern border, the masked girl had a similar scar on her neck. Back then, she had used silver scissors to cut out a poisonous arrow for him, and the blood splattered on the snow like red plum blossoms.
Halfway through the coming-of-age ceremony, Jiang Baichuan sidled up to Jiang Songyi and said, "This. For you." The jade hairpin, still warm from her body, was pressed into her palm. "I saw it at Linglong Pavilion the other day."
"Brother, are you gambling again?" Jiang Songyi glanced at the pawn ticket on his sleeve. "This hairpin."
"Do you want to make love?" Jiang Baichuan turned around and left, his face flushed, knocking over the wine cup on the table. Mei Weixing was exchanging glances with Peng Yuyan, and the wine spilled all over him.
"Bad luck!" Mei Weixing raised his hand to strike, but his wrist was suddenly clamped by a hand like an iron clamp. Jiang Jinzhao held the congratulatory paper and smiled faintly: "Prince Mei, be careful, three censors are here today."
As dusk stained the eaves red, Jiang Yuyao huddled behind a pillar. She watched Jiang Songyi being surrounded by noble ladies and receiving gifts, and suddenly she tore the red string from her wrist—it was the birthday gift Jiang Baichuan had given her last year.
As Pearl rolled into the bushes, she heard Peng Yuyan and Mei Weixing whispering, "The bellyband in the peony bush that day."
"Shut up!" Mei Weixing grabbed Peng Yuyan's wrist. "If you mention that again, I'll let your father."
The sound of shattering porcelain could be heard from behind the rockery. Jiang Songyi chuckled, holding up a broken wine jar. "Prince Mei is so majestic." Her silver hairpins shone coldly in the twilight. "I wonder if the Imperial Censor enjoys hearing these romantic stories?"
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