Chapter 9: The Policy Bird

Pei Du reached out and drew the little bird, who was busy gnawing on a candied hawthorn, back into his sleeve. “Enter,” he said flatly.

Zhou Su wore an indigo official robe, his face stern, a trace of weariness between his brows.

After entering, he first paid his respects, though his gaze paused almost imperceptibly at Pei Du’s sleeve cuff.

Shen Jiujiu, halfway through his treat, pecked lightly at Pei Du’s fingertip with his beak in protest at being confined, oblivious to the long tail feather poking out from the sleeve.

“What brings you here, Lord Zhou?” Pei Du’s expression remained unchanged as he gestured for the man to sit.

Zhou Su took a deep breath and said bluntly, “This official has been commanded to investigate the Steward Embezzlement Case at Pei Mansion. Seeing Lord Pei here today by chance, I came to report.”

Normally, a case of a steward embezzling silver wouldn’t reach Dali Temple, but both parties involved were no ordinary commoners, leaving Dali Temple as the only place capable of handling the investigation and trial.

Even so, Dali Temple found the case a headache.

The Zhenguo Marquis Mansion had indeed fallen on hard times, but the marquis’s backers were Prince Wu’s faction.

If Pei Du dropped the case, it would turn a big matter small. Yet once word spread, it might raise suspicions of shady dealings and silver flows between Pei Mansion and Prince Wu’s party.

On the other hand, a thorough investigation risked uncovering some threads that could openly offend Prince Wu, whether for Dali Temple or Pei Du.

Hearing it was a case he knew well, Shen Jiujiu sneaked his head out from Pei Du’s sleeve, trying to eavesdrop more clearly.

But one glance at the tantalizingly near yet unreachable candied hawthorn and roasted chestnuts, and he couldn’t help smacking his little beak.

Pei Du heard the sound and glanced down at Shen Jiujiu.

Shen Jiujiu sheepishly shrank back into the sleeve. Fine, he got it—they were discussing serious business, and a sensible little bird wouldn’t interrupt.

Propped against the fabric of the sleeve and leaning back on Pei Du’s forearm, the little bird sat with profound regret that he hadn’t snuck a couple of chestnuts in earlier.

The little bird was getting bored.

Shen Jiujiu swung his feet and bobbed his head back and forth a few times, enjoying the friction of the sleeve material against his head. It was kind of fun.

Once the itch subsided, he stared at Pei Du’s forearm, now wrapped in layers of sleeve, then used his beak to tug at the wide outer robe’s inner layers, wriggling and burrowing like an explorer seeking new lands.

Pei Du’s gaze flickered slightly. He picked up a paper-wrapped bundle of sugar-roasted chestnuts from the table and leisurely peeled one open. “Handling cases is Dali Temple’s duty. If you have witnesses and evidence, Lord Zhou, proceed impartially. No need to report to me.”

Zhou Su paused, then said cautiously, “I understand, my lord. But this case has some oddities.”

Human fingers were far more dexterous than a little bird’s. Pei Du peeled the chestnut swiftly and cleanly.

Without a change in expression, he reached in and plucked out the bird burrowing toward his inner sleeve, naturally offering the warm, freshly peeled chestnut as a bribe. “Where’s the oddity?”

Watching Pei Du’s movements, Zhou Su blanked for a moment before suddenly understanding. He swallowed words that had been on the tip of his tongue and lowered his voice. “That steward confessed too quickly, and the silver’s accounting was far too clear and swift. It was as if… someone deliberately handed over the knife.”

There were rumors from the palace that His Majesty had recently granted a precious Tribute Bird to Lord Pei, who stayed above factional strife, as a mark of favor. Could it be…

Pei Du looked at the clever man before him and said mildly, “Indeed. Lord Zhou, you must thoroughly trace where that silver truly went. Don’t wrongly implicate the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion.”

Zhou Su understood.

The implication was clear: regardless of whether the silver had actually reached the marquis mansion, as long as they passed on the hot potato and it surfaced elsewhere, the case would become one of the steward framing the marquis mansion. Pei Du would have shown no offense to Prince Wu.

For the marquis mansion, if they’d taken it, this was a savvy way to back off. If not, it was a case of paying to avert disaster.

Zhou Su rose and bowed. “Yes, my lord. I understand.”

As Zhou Su turned to leave the private room, Pei Du had a sudden thought and asked, “Has the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion been involved in any other cases lately?”

Zhou Su was slightly taken aback but quickly replied, “Yes, one in particular. I believe Your Lordship would recall it.”

Pei Du raised a brow faintly. “Oh?”

“Half a year ago, the Imperial Examination Cheating Case. The suspect was the marquis’s legitimate son, Shen Xinian.”

Shen Jiujiu, who had been happily munching on his chestnut, suddenly found it tasteless.

Bird or not, a charge of Imperial Exam Fraud was too much for any scholar—especially since Shen Jiujiu knew full well that Shen Xinian had taken the fall for someone else.

Fuming, Shen Jiujiu clutched a chestnut beside him and frantically smoothed down his chest feathers with his wingtips.

Calm down, calm down.

Don’t get mad, bird no mad.

Getting sick from anger…

“Wasn’t that case already cleared and overturned?”

At Pei Du’s voice, Shen Jiujiu’s eyes lit up.

The bird sprawled on Pei Du’s forearm, staring eagerly at the light filtering through the sleeve, straining to catch their conversation.

“Indeed,” Zhou Su’s voice came from outside the sleeve. “But on the eve of Dali Temple’s release, Young Master Shen suddenly fell ill and died in his cell.”

Sudden illness?

Pei Du recalled that fifteen-year-old genius Jieyuan.

The Imperial Exam Fraud was a major case, landing even the marquis’s own son in jail, so Pei Du had naturally heard of it.

Yet as the leader of the pure-stream civil officials, Pei Du always steered clear of exam-related matters—whether to protect lowly scholars or avoid entanglement with noble heirs.

He remembered the case had been swiftly investigated with ironclad evidence. It proved no fraud in that session’s exams; it was sour grapes from failed candidates, with fabricated testimony. Young Master Shen had been unjustly caught up—once the truth came out, Pei Du paid it no further mind.

A fifteen-year-old Jieyuan was rare genius, true, but for Pei Du to truly take notice, Shen Xinian would need to prove his worth and step into his line of sight.

Zhou Su continued, “It was sudden and suspicious. Dali Temple examined closely and found no traces of poison or foul play.”

“Then the Shen family came to claim the body, saying Young Master Shen had a congenital weakness and frail health, likely succumbing to prison chills and a cold. Dali Temple pursued it no further.”

Pei Du fell silent for a moment, then waved his hand.

After Zhou Su departed, Pei Du pondered for a moment longer. Only after a while did he notice that the little bird tucked in his sleeve had grown unusually quiet.

He lifted his sleeve and beheld the little bird dumpling, which somehow appeared plumper than before. It cradled a chestnut between its wings, pecking at it viciously with its beak—one peck after another. It did not look like it was eating so much as viciously jabbing at some hapless foe.

Shen Jiujiu was no bird to hide his moods.

When happy, he went chirp chirp chirp.

When unhappy, he fell silent.

His current sulk surpassed even the pout he’d worn after losing his argument with Sui Ziming. He wasn’t chirping at all now; tiny flames of murderous intent flickered in his beady eyes.

Pei Du immediately connected it to his recent conversation with Zhou Su.

Yet he made no mention of it.

Man and bird thus sat in the restaurant’s private room—one sipping tea with eyes downcast, the other finishing off its chestnut before attacking a skewer of candied hawthorns—whiling away a good half hour.

Dusk began to fall. Sated from his meal and somewhat soothed in his sullen mood, Shen Jiujiu wiped his claws and wings clean on a handkerchief before hopping back onto Pei Du’s shoulder of his own accord.

Pei Du had not gone far from the restaurant when the long-tailed tit on his shoulder suddenly grew agitated, as if spotting something.

For the first time, this clever and sensible little bird seized Pei Du’s collar in its beak and tugged insistently toward a shop diagonally across the street.

Even as it slipped from Pei Du’s shoulder, it clung doggedly to his lapel with its claws, swinging its body in that direction.

Had it known how to fly, it would surely have darted straight inside by now.

With quick reflexes, Pei Du scooped up the wayward bird, his expression turning grave. “What is it?”

“Chirp chirp chirp chirp!”

From crown to tail feathers, Shen Jiujiu strained to point at the shop across the way, desperate for Pei Du to take him there.

Shen Jiujiu’s memories were faint and fleeting. Thus, even though they whispered that he had once been Shen Xinian, the little bird felt no strong familiarity or attachment to the name.

Yet moments earlier, as Pei Du carried him from the restaurant and turned onto the street in another direction, the ever-curious Shen Jiujiu had glanced about—and locked eyes on that shop diagonally opposite.

The memory of entering it as Shen Xinian flooded back, vivid and abrupt.

Instinct took over. Shen Jiujiu realized something vital and strained with all his might to draw Pei Du inside.

Pei Du eyed the shop across the street. It appeared utterly ordinary, betraying no hint of the unusual.

He did not stride in at once. Instead, he turned his head and, for the first time, fixed Shen Jiujiu with a gaze of cool, almost detached scrutiny.

It lacked sharpness but brimmed with profundity.

Shen Jiujiu looked up. The plea in his eyes bore no trace of coquetry or wheedling.

Their stare held for a mere instant before Pei Du tucked the bird into his sleeve and crossed the street.

“Our humble shop just got a fresh shipment and has barely opened—no time to tidy yet. What catches your eye, esteemed guest?”

The shopkeeper, occupied behind the counter, set aside his ledger and abacus and hurried over.

Pei Du inclined his head with gentle warmth. “Tend to your work, shopkeeper. No need to fuss over me.”

“Ah… well…” The man hesitated, but a single light glance from Pei Du had him nodding vigorously. “Right you are, sir! Just holler if you need anything!”

It was a woodware shop. The shelves behind the counter displayed all manner of lifelike wooden carvings, and the air carried the fresh, distinctive scent of timber.

Signboard and interior alike revealed nothing out of the ordinary.

Yet this woodware shop served as a key intelligence relay for Pei Du’s network in the Capital. Messages from afar were concealed within carvings or etched inside everyday items, dispatched from the city and returned through trading channels.

Of all the shops in West Market, this was the one the little bird had fixated on.

Shen Jiujiu stood in Pei Du’s palm as they entered. He swiveled his head from left to right, then back again, scrutinizing every wooden item on the shelves.

For anything out of clear view or worth a closer look, he patted Pei Du’s hand with a wing and jabbed the direction with its tip.

Pei Du indulged him, drawing nearer wherever the wing indicated.

“Chirp!!! Chirp chirp chirp!!”

Shen Jiujiu’s eyes lit up. In his eagerness, he wriggled free of Pei Du’s loosely cupped fingers and launched himself toward a particular compartment on the shelf—flapping his wings in what was more glide than true flight.

His landing went awry; he teetered on the edge, nearly tumbling off. But his claws snagged the rope dangling from a wooden plaque nearby. After two stubborn swings, he flung himself back onto his target.

Pei Du withdrew the hand he’d extended to catch him and turned his attention to the object the long-tailed tit was now nuzzling and pecking with fervent affection.

The shopkeeper, ever watchful, peered over with curiosity and chimed in at once. “Your little bird has quite the eye, sir! That’s a treasure from Jiangnan—acquired over half a year ago from a scholar down there. Huanghuali wood and ivory beads, polished and lacquered to perfection. Exquisite craftsmanship!”

Shen Jiujiu sprawled atop the abacus that had once belonged to Shen Xinian, wings splayed wide as he gazed imploringly at Pei Du. “Chirp~ chirp chirp~~~”

The bird’s melodic chirps made their triumphant return.

Pei Du, having already indulged the bird’s earlier blandishments with candied hawthorns and roasted chestnuts, proved somewhat more resistant this time. He glanced from abacus to bird. “A Jiangnan rarity.”

“Chirp chirp, chirp.” Shen Jiujiu’s reply carried a guilty lilt.

As a freeloading little bird who cadged meals, polishing off hawthorns and chestnuts was one thing. But now to make Pei Du shell out for an abacus? That did push the boundaries.

Yet he wanted it so badly. Wuu.

Shen Jiujiu rolled atop the abacus, as if he could happily make it his permanent home.

“Chirp~~ chirp~~~~”

Please, buy the bird this abacus.

This very one~

“I can buy it,” said Pei Du.

“Chirp!” Shen Jiujiu perked right up, claws gripping the pristine ivory beads as he bounced in delight.

“But in return, I want a policy essay from you.” Pei Du spoke with perfect calm, as if posing the most ordinary request imaginable. “I’ll choose the topic.”

The bird atop the abacus went rigid.

The shopkeeper shot him a look of profound doubt, his gaze turning wary as he sized up Pei Du.

Evidently wondering if this elegantly attired guest of obvious means and refinement might be a touch unhinged.

Shen Jiujiu: “…Cheep?”

With great difficulty, Little Bird cheeped and raised his trembling wingtip.

“Mm, just one essay.”

In the midst of their negotiations, Pei Du naturally slipped back into the role of a human who understood bird-speak.

“One policy essay in exchange for this abacus. I mean what I say.”

Shen Jiujiu drew in a deep breath. Thinking of the sheer length such an essay would entail, he felt a pang in his heart and gently stroked the abacus beneath his feet with his wing.

Woo… Little Bird, for your sake, I’m going all out.

Steel resolve filled him. Shen Jiujiu extended one wing toward Pei Du, his little bird face set with the determination of someone about to brave mountains of blades and seas of fire.

At first, Pei Du had no idea what he meant. But when Shen Jiujiu pointed at his hand with his beak, Pei Du hesitated, lifted his hand, and tentatively touched the raised wingtip with his fingertip.

Shen Jiujiu: “Cheep!”

The pact was sealed. Little Bird whipped around and hugged the abacus with his wings, nuzzling it affectionately.

Pei Du—used and promptly discarded—thought of the policy essay now within his grasp. With calm composure, he turned to pay for Little Bird’s prize.

…

Upon returning to Pei Mansion, Pei Du headed to the front courtyard to attend to his duties, while Shen Jiujiu—abacus clutched tightly in his talons—was delivered to the back courtyard.

Shen Jiujiu knew this was Shen Xinian’s abacus.

What was more, it was a cherished heirloom from Shen Xinian’s late mother.

So he couldn’t fathom why Shen Xinian—the legitimate son of the Marquis Mansion, who wanted for nothing in food or finery—would sell something so precious at the Woodware Shop.

Shen Jiujiu hopped in a circle around the abacus, then leaped atop it. With his claws, he meticulously slid the smooth white beads up and down.

Clack—clack.

Hm?

Little Bird’s talon paused against the bead. He nudged the one he’d just pushed upward back down a fraction.

As though he’d stumbled upon a secret, Shen Jiujiu hopped to the leftmost end of the abacus and began scrutinizing the seam where each bead met the wooden frame.

Unlike a standard abacus, polished mirror-smooth for fluid calculations, the wooden slots cradling these beads were etched with dense horizontal scratches and tiny dots.

They appeared chaotic at first glance, yet carried an indescribable, mystical beauty.

But for some reason, they struck Shen Jiujiu as profoundly familiar.

Little Bird couldn’t shake the feeling.

After fiddling for a bit, inspiration struck like lightning. On the abacus, he arranged the beads to spell out Shen Xinian’s birthdate.

The resulting pattern of dots and marks leaped into Little Bird’s view.

【Don’t doubt it, you are Shen Xinian】

Shen Jiujiu froze, blinking his little bird eyes ever so slowly.

Wildly excited, Little Bird feverishly tested Shen Xinian’s mother’s birthdate, the date of his provincial examination, and the day Pei Du had pulled Shen Xinian from the water.

【To restore your memories】

【Sleep with Pei Du】

Ah?

What in the world?!

Shen Jiujiu’s bird head snapped backward, his pupils quaking in shock.

Unable to believe it, he hopped frantically across the table, manipulating the abacus without cease in a desperate bid for more clues.

After the span of time it took to brew and sip a cup of tea, Shen Jiujiu had exhausted every date in his memory. At last, he pieced together one final message.

【Remember, sleep pressed close together】

Shen Jiujiu: “…?”

~~~

Once his tasks were done, Pei Du returned to the back courtyard. From afar, he spotted a long-tailed Little Bird Dumpling.

A Little Bird Dumpling in the midst of his bath.