Shen Jiujiu hurriedly fluttered out, wrapping his wings tightly around Pei Du’s hand as best he could. He even pressed his cheek against the back of Pei Du’s hand, letting out a rapid series of chirps—chirp chirp chirp—to desperately prove his innocence.
The soft, warm sensation settled over his skin, and Pei Du’s fingers twitched slightly before slowly relaxing. He suppressed all his emotions.
Pei Du said nothing. He simply cradled Shen Jiujiu like this and walked out of the study, extending his hand toward the open birdcage.
Shen Jiujiu desperately wanted to get close to Pei Du, but his guilt ultimately outweighed his longing. He tucked in his wings, shrank his head, and slunk dispiritedly into the cage.
His claws tucked under him, he huddled pathetically in the corner of the cage.
~~~
He spent two days trembling in fear, but the anticipated roasting of the little bird never came. Convinced he was safe at last, Shen Jiujiu breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
The study was actually quite well soundproofed, but after eating and drinking his fill, Shen Jiujiu’s hearing seemed to sharpen considerably. Every now and then, a sentence or two from conversations would drift in on the breeze and into his little bird ears.
It wasn’t as if he was eavesdropping on purpose.
Shen Jiujiu lay sprawled on his back in the cage, his brownish claws pawing lazily at the air. He tried mimicking a cat scratching an itch but failed miserably, then flopped down in utter defeat.
After the reckoning from that day, until he could regain Pei Du’s trust, Shen Jiujiu truly didn’t dare cause any more trouble. He spent his days obediently eating his fill and sleeping, then sleeping his fill and eating, playing the part of an adorable, well-behaved little tit.
A shadow gradually fell over the cage, blocking the mild autumn breeze and the rare sunlight of the day.
Shen Jiujiu caught a whiff of that familiar fragrance. With a plump little bounce, he tumbled upright in the cage.
Pei Du was genuinely busy.
He left early and returned late each day, and whenever he was in the residence, he stayed in the study. Though he kept a bird, he never played with it.
As such, Shen Jiujiu never found a chance to build any bond with his master.
Shen Jiujiu chirped at Pei Du in a soft, piping voice, his little black-bean eyes brimming with affection and adoration.
Pei Du stared at the long-tailed tit for a long moment.
Then, under Shen Jiujiu’s tense gaze, Pei Du picked up the cage and carried him—the bird who’d ballooned into a plump little ball in just three days—from the study to the rear garden.
He found a spot with good ventilation and sunlight, then hung the cage up again.
The residence of Pei Du, Prime Minister of the current dynasty, had been granted by His Majesty himself. Its gates, front courtyard, central hall, and inner courtyard were laid out with strict precision, rivaling that of a prince’s mansion in scale.
The study where Shen Jiujiu had previously hung had been in the inner courtyard, where Pei Du spent most of his time. Now, however, he’d been directly exiled to the rear garden.
Pei Du didn’t even have a harem. What use was a rear garden?
In the future, forget about earning Pei Du’s favor—he might not even catch a glimpse of the man once every ten days or half a month.
Exiled to this “frontier,” Shen Jiujiu stared in disbelief at Pei Du’s heartless retreating back. His wingtips clutched the cage bars as he unleashed an furious barrage of chirps.
“Chirp—! Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!!!”
Pei Du had walked quite a distance, yet he could still hear the hoarse, desperate bird cries echoing from behind.
He paused involuntarily, raising a hand to lightly press his temple. He couldn’t fathom how a little tit the size of his fist could produce such a robust, undulating call.
…It almost sounded like cursing.
As this thought crossed his mind, the faintest hint of a smile flickered across Pei Du’s face.
He turned and glanced back at the cage under the corridor from afar, then strode away.
Shen Jiujiu chirped himself hoarse, but he couldn’t call back the iron-hearted Pei Du.
The little white fluffball dragged his long tail feathers behind him as he bounced heavily around the cage again and again, making the whole thing sway and rattle on its perch.
Shen Jiujiu hopped over to the white porcelain water bowl and peered in. The water’s surface reflected his own image.
His grayish-white feathers were fluffy and soft, his black-bean eyes round and wide. A ring of black down around them naturally outlined eyeliner, giving him a look that was both lively and endearingly silly.
He looked just like a glutinous rice dumpling.
Shen Jiujiu dipped his head and gently pecked at the water’s surface, sending ripples spreading outward.
Three years ago, when he first met Pei Du in Jiangnan, he had still been Shen Xinian.
~~~
“…S-save… save…”
The fifteen-year-old boy hadn’t yet filled out. Tossed into the rushing river, his slender shoulders bobbed up and down on the surface.
When he was kicked into the river, Shen Xinian had been carrying a bamboo case stuffed with brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone. Now that case weighed him down like a stone anchor, dragging him under.
“Don’t move.”
The voice from beside him sounded muffled in the water. The newcomer quickly grabbed the back of Shen Xinian’s collar, looped an arm around the boy’s waist, unfastened the bamboo case with one hand, and swam them both toward shore.
The river was far deeper than it appeared.
Shen Xinian thrashed wildly, his nails digging into the rescuer’s arm. Bubbles poured from his mouth as panic filled his eyes.
Amid the turbulent current, the man beside him was steady as an unyielding stone bridge. He first shoved Shen Xinian up half a foot, letting the boy sprawl onto the cold bluestone slabs, before climbing ashore himself by clinging to cracks in the rock.
Shen Xinian’s vision swam with bizarre lights and swirling blacks, his limbs heavy and useless, his chest aching from the inability to breathe.
In his daze, he felt that steady, powerful arm flip him over. One hand cradled the back of his neck while the other patted his back rhythmically.
Shen Xinian involuntarily coughed up the river water choking his throat.
The man flipped him back over and pressed fingers to his neck, as if checking his condition.
After a while, Shen Xinian finally regained some strength and opened his eyes.
The other’s clothes were soaked through, water dripping from his hair tips onto his sturdy collarbone. Yet those eyes shone with startling brightness.
“Can you speak?”
The young man’s voice was gentler than the river, clear and steady.
Seeing Shen Xinian only gape silently, he asked no more. He bent down and scooped the boy up into a horizontal carry.
Though he’d expelled the water, Shen Xinian’s mind was still foggy. The world rocked and blurred before him, but that one glimpse upon opening his eyes had etched the young man’s face indelibly into his memory.
When he opened his eyes again, Shen Xinian found himself inside a carriage.
He immediately lifted the curtain and saw that the carriage had stopped not far from the Jiangnan Provincial Examination Hall for the provincial exams.
Stunned, he dropped the curtain. On the low table beside him sat a bundle wrapped in blue cloth. Inside was a fresh stick of Huimo ink, a stack of fine xuan paper, and a wolf-hair brush with a smoothly polished handle.
The neighboring food box held two white steamed buns, a slab of braised pork, and even some candied fruit wrapped in cloth.
Placed beside the food box was the document Shen Xinian had believed sunk to the river’s bottom.
After emerging from the Jiangnan Provincial Examination Hall, Shen Xinian had circled the area for three full days, from the faint light of dawn until nightfall, questioning every cart driver and tea seller he encountered. Yet none knew the origins of that carriage.
September arrived, and the Autumn Provincial Examination results were posted.
Shen Xinian claimed first place.
The young Jieyuan.
~~~
That fateful encounter—if not for Pei Du—would have cost Shen Xinian not only his chance at the provincial examination but perhaps his life altogether.
None of the events that followed would have come to pass.
And yet, after three years of pining, his long-awaited reunion with his benefactor had left them separated as man and bird.
Right now, dangling in the back courtyard, Shen Jiujiu knew that unless he did something to return to the front courtyard—to Pei Du’s side—he would truly spend the rest of his days as a pampered pet bird.
But Shen Jiujiu hadn’t come back to life just to mooch off meals and await his end!
No, he lived to be Pei Du’s companion bird.
To repay his debt!
—Though repaying that debt first required getting back to Pei Du’s side.
Playing the obedient pet wasn’t working. Shen Jiujiu had to prove his worth!
What was more, during their brief contact a couple of days earlier, Shen Jiujiu had sensed something: Pei Du seemed to enjoy the little bird snuggling close.
Outwardly calm, Pei Du’s pulse had quickened ever so slightly.
A little bird’s hearing was exceptionally keen.
Time to go all in!
Little Bird BBQ it would be!
Fail, and it was back to the wheel of reincarnation!
With that resolve, Shen Jiujiu’s gaze settled on the golden cage door, a spark of cunning and determination flickering in his beady black eyes.
…
That night, the mansion lay hushed in silence.
After a quiet afternoon of building his strength, Shen Jiujiu snapped his eyes open.
The gray-white bird dumpling sidled up to the cage door. He tapped the bamboo bars lightly with his beak-tip, then hooked a slender claw around the latch and yanked downward with all his weight.
With a faint click, the bronze bolt slid open half an inch.
The bird dumpling crowed in triumph, parting his beak in a chirp that trilled upward at the end. He wriggled sideways through the gap, spreading his wings…
Shen Jiujiu flexed his wings and discovered—to his chagrin—that after his rebirth and endless days cooped up, he probably couldn’t fly. Embarrassment flitted across his dark little eyes.
He glanced aside, then shuffled his body against the cage until it swayed within reach of the corridor pillar. With a flap, he latched onto the wood and slid swiftly to the ground.
The Pei Mansion’s formidable defenses melted into the serene night, guards patrolling the eaves and walkways. Yet none spotted the gray-white little bird dumpling as, shielded by shadows, he minced along on tiny steps, trailing his long tail in birdlike stealth toward Pei Du’s inner courtyard.
Shen Jiujiu possessed a prodigious memory.
Photographic, even.
Pei Du had strolled the route with his bird only once that day, and Shen Jiujiu had committed it to heart.
Pei Du’s long strides had made it effortless, but for Shen Jiujiu’s stubby claws, it was a grueling odyssey over mountains and through brambles.
Brave Jiujiu feared no hardship, though.
Shen Jiujiu, now was the time to prove you were no mere rice bird!
An hour later, a small bird head poked from the moon gate, scouting toward Pei Du’s study.
As expected, the study’s lamp burned steadily; Pei Du had yet to retire.
Shen Jiujiu, puffed with pride at his heroic feat, shook out his wings, flicked his tail feathers, and bolted for the study.
He felt not a whit of childishness, even if sparrow instincts had rubbed off on him.
Moonlight spilled across the stone path to the study door, its pale glow washing over the vermilion threshold and illuminating the plump sparrow dumpling perched atop it—strutting broad-chested and triumphant, every inch the conqueror.
The brush hovering over the rice paper halted, bleeding a spot of ink.
Pei Du set his brush aside. He wasn’t wholly surprised the bird had tracked him down—no, there was a touch of surprise.
The man glanced at the open window, then shifted his gaze to the threshold, where the dirt-caked sparrow dumpling sat, its original hue all but obscured.
For a bird who’d eschewed wings for claws, hopping the whole way, Shen Jiujiu felt a pang of awkwardness. He lifted his wings to hide his little face—then promptly dropped them, brimming with defiant pride.
In a flash, he leaped from the threshold, scampered into the study, and butted headlong into Pei Du’s boot.
Pei Du looked down at the bird.
Wings fluttering, claws scrabbling, Shen Jiujiu seized Pei Du’s outer robe sleeve and hauled himself onto the desk. He planted one foot claw atop the brush holder, threw back his head, and chirped boldly.
A bird who couldn’t fly? So what!
Birds were smart!
