048 The Gift of the Jade Hairpin

Aunt Jin was indeed a rare master when it came to crafting hairpins; one glance at her finished pieces made that clear. Yet her skill did not guarantee she could turn me into a master to rival her. At first, I thought making a simple jade hairpin would be a trivial task, hardly worth worrying about. But after three failed attempts, I found myself rather crestfallen. Aunt Jin offered to make it for me, but I refused. As the saying goes, adversity breeds courage—indeed, without setbacks, there can be no true resolve. The more I failed, the more determined I was to succeed. At last, under Aunt Jin's helpless gaze, I managed to produce a jade hairpin that was at least barely usable.

I blamed all of this on the fact that I had read too many books. It’s not that reading is a bad thing, but when one reads too much and never practices with their hands, one does become rather clumsy—something I readily admit. It’s much like many famous people: geniuses in one field, utter fools in another. I can’t list them all, but there are certainly many such examples.

With some free time, I sketched a few more designs for Aunt Jin, asking her to revise them before taking them to be made. After days of busy work, we had created quite a few items—mostly hairpins, earrings, jeweled flowers, ribbons, and hand and foot ornaments for women. I had designed a wide variety, incorporating many modern elements. The result was a collection that truly caught the eye, even making me feel a little proud. With Aunt Jin’s ability to adapt and her four female apprentices—Plum, Orchid, Bamboo, and Chrysanthemum—practicing day and night, the prospects looked promising.

However, I was well aware that while the items themselves might seem ordinary, their novelty would certainly attract many. What we still lacked was something crucial—a powerful backer.

If our peers left us in peace, all would be well. But should ill intentions arise, we would need to know how to protect ourselves. I never allow myself to harbor malice toward others, but self-preservation is a must.

Moonlight Country is a foreign land to me; I can count those I know here on one hand. If I truly needed someone to rely on, it would have to be either Yun Heng or Li Yexuan. Yun Heng was likely out of the question; Li Yexuan, on the other hand, held real promise.

The day before the shop’s grand reopening, I sent Jin Hu to Li Yexuan’s residence with my jade pendant, asking him to tell the prince that an old acquaintance awaited him at the teahouse.

I waited in a private room on the second floor, sipping tea. About an hour later, the curtain was lifted, and Li Yexuan entered.

“Your Highness, you truly are a man of endless affairs, yet you still make time to see a little nobody like me.” Smiling, I poured him a cup of tea. He should have understood my meaning—it was a mild rebuke for keeping me waiting an hour. After all, even a little nobody’s time is precious.

“Knowing how busy I am, you still dare to summon me,” he replied, raising the cup to taste the tea. “Good tea.”

“Naturally. Only the finest for Your Highness.”

“Did you invite me here just for tea?”

“I’ll speak plainly, then. As Your Highness knows, for a humble shop to survive near the busiest part of Moonlight Country, it must have someone powerful behind it. I’m just a runaway girl with no foundation to speak of. I wonder if Your Highness…”

“What benefit is there for me?” he interrupted.

“What benefit do you want?” I hadn’t expected Li Yexuan to be so direct, demanding his due.

He said nothing, but traced a line with his finger on the table.

“So you want a tenth of the shop’s profits? Li Yexuan, you really are merciless.” I couldn’t be bothered with titles anymore and called him by name. What was the point of politeness? In the end, I’d still have to give him a share.

Yet I caught a fleeting hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

“If your identity were discovered, it wouldn’t end well for you. With me behind you, all would be taken care of. Besides, there are other advantages. Giving me a tenth of the profits can only help you, not harm you.”

“Fine, it’s a deal.”

I took out a brocade box from my person, placed it on the table, and pushed it toward him.

Li Yexuan accepted it and opened it. I thought he would be delighted.

“If this is the best your shop has to offer, it won’t do. You’ll surely go out of business. Perhaps I should forgo my share of the profits.”

I was at a loss for words. What did he mean by “the best I had to offer”?

I slapped both hands on the table and stood up abruptly. The bang startled Li Yexuan.

“Li Yexuan, let me tell you, the things in my shop are a thousand, ten thousand times better than this! This is just something I made on a whim for my own amusement. Give it back!” I reached to snatch it, but Li Yexuan dodged nimbly.

After several rounds, I had to admit defeat.

Li Yexuan tossed back a parting shot: “Once a gift is given, there’s no taking it back.”