Chapter 20: Superficial Little Bird

After taking care of business, Sui Ziming took Shen Jiujiu on a leisurely stroll around town.

Some of the little sparrows stayed behind at the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion. The rest, having gotten familiar with Sui Ziming’s scent, left only one as a lookout while they went off to mind their own bird business.

Little sparrows had lives of their own, after all. Beyond stuffing their bellies, there was courtship and all sorts of romantic flings.

Unlike Pei Du, who never set foot outside without official business, Sui Ziming was always out and about. He knew all the lively spots and where to find the best eats. But Shen Jiujiu showed none of the excitement he’d had last time with Pei Du. He stayed quiet the whole way.

The fluffy little bird nestled right in front of Sui Ziming’s hair crown. At a glance, he looked like nothing more than a fuzzy hair ornament.

Sui Ziming spotted a sugar ball vendor from afar and asked Shen Jiujiu, “Sugar balls? They’ve got meat-stuffed shaobing, oil tea, sanzi sticks, and bean flour cakes right next door. I recommend the sanzi—you’ve had plenty of meat today.”

Shen Jiujiu perked up a little and defiantly chirped four times: chirp-chirp-chirp-chirp.

That meant he wanted the meat-stuffed shaobing.

Sui Ziming bought one, snapped off a fingernail-sized piece for Shen Jiujiu, and shoved the rest into his own mouth.

Little birds weren’t fragile creatures. They could eat just about anything, so long as they didn’t stuff themselves sick.

Shen Jiujiu grabbed the hair ribbon and swung down from Sui Ziming’s hair crown. He took the morsel with the tip of his wing, blew on it, and ate daintily.

His table manners were surprisingly refined.

The more Sui Ziming watched, the more entertaining he found Shen Jiujiu. He teased the little bird, “Truth be told, if you’d come along a bit sooner, I really think my cousin might’ve taken you on as a student.”

Shen Jiujiu paid no mind to Sui Ziming’s words.

What was Pei Du’s position?

Court Prime Minister. Leader of the Pure Stream.

He wouldn’t take a student lightly.

In the hierarchy of heaven, earth, sovereign, and teacher, a master ranked even above one’s parents. Becoming Pei Du’s student wouldn’t just open doors to an official career—it would put him under the spotlight among scholars across the land.

Never mind the visible authority and hidden networks Pei Du wielded.

That was why Pei Du had never accepted a single disciple, not even one with a mere half-mentor bond among his subordinates.

With no disciple network tying him to factions, Pei Du stood as the Leader of the Pure Stream in court, yet no one could accuse him of cronyism.

Aside from Sui Ziming, his blood kin and cousin, Pei Du had taken solitude to its extreme.

Sui Ziming grabbed a bag of sugar balls on the way and quickened his steps to weave through the crowd. He slowed only when they reached the inner riverbank.

“Don’t brush me off,” he said, a sugar ball tucked in his cheek, words muffled. “He’s got high standards, a sharp mind, and a temper he keeps under wraps. Sure, he can be cutting with his words but soft at heart—but only with the right people.”

Shen Jiujiu, Pei Du’s number-one fan, didn’t care for that. He whipped around and pecked at the finger Sui Ziming was jabbing him with.

Sui Ziming dodged with quick reflexes. “In all these years, I’ve never seen him warm up to anyone that fast.”

Shen Jiujiu was still working on his shaobing piece, savoring the meat filling with a smack of his beak. The tip glistened with grease.

“Chirp chirp.”

“It’s got nothing to do with treating you like a bird.” Sui Ziming waved it off. “Your acting? I won’t even go there.”

“I spotted right away you weren’t some ordinary little bird. With his brains, he clocked it way before I did.”

Shen Jiujiu thought back to his so-called acting and the swift unraveling of his bird disguise. He had nothing to say to that.

Well… if he’d known how to play the part even halfway decently, he wouldn’t have face-planted so spectacularly at the Marquis Mansion.

Sui Ziming went on. “But he knows you’re human and keeps you around anyway. That says you’re not like the mediocre idiots out there—at least not in his eyes.”

Shen Jiujiu let out a disdainful chirp.

What a poisonous tongue on this guy.

Sui Ziming read the little bird’s vivid scorn all too well and cried foul. “Hey! Those were his exact words! I’m just repeating—paraphrasing!”

Shen Jiujiu tuned out anything that besmirched his benefactor’s image of perfect virtue and kindness.

Sui Ziming stewed for a moment, then gritted his teeth. “Superficial little bird!”

How could even a bird be so shallow, just like everyone else!

You couldn’t judge solely by looks!

Whatever.

Shrugging it off—he was used to it—Sui Ziming dangled a sugar ball in front of Shen Jiujiu. Glancing down, he caught the little bird quietly wiping his beak on his clothes. “Shen—Jiu—jiu!”

Shen Jiujiu promptly released Sui Ziming’s oh-so-convenient collar, cocked his head, and flashed the picture of bird innocence.

Good thing Sui Ziming had worn a deep blue narrow-sleeved round-collar robe today. The grease mark was barely visible, so he settled for flicking Shen Jiujiu’s forehead.

Sui Ziming lacked Pei Du’s keen insight. He was just laying out the facts. “Like I said, don’t believe me? Ask him yourself.”

…

On the way back, Sui Ziming’s words kept circling in Shen Jiujiu’s head.

As they neared the gate, Sui Ziming spotted a palace servant from afar. He snatched up Shen Jiujiu and darted into a side alley, then vaulted the wall into the rear garden with a few nimble leaps and scrambles—smooth as silk.

Shen Jiujiu: ?

You’re that slick at scaling your cousin’s rear garden wall, yet you played the proud holdout before?

The little bird twisted to eye the walltop.

Looked like a few bricks had been rubbed bald.

Sui Ziming plopped the little bird dumpling back atop his head, dusted off his sleeves and hem, and ignored the little bird’s deadpan stare. Instead of heading to the front courtyard, he wound through the rear garden, brushing aside leaves and branches until the view opened wide.

The octagonal pavilion hugged the water’s edge, open on all four sides. Bamboo curtains warded off the wind but did nothing to stop the petals drifting in from overhanging branches on the breeze.

Pei Du sat inside, brewing tea and reading—a vision of leisure. No sign of his usual round-the-clock diligence.

Shen Jiujiu squeezed his eyes shut, then popped them open.

At this hour, Pei Du was out here brewing tea and reading?

“Zhong Bo’s probably handling the palace guest right now.”

Sui Ziming sauntered a few steps toward the pavilion, leaned against a pillar, folded his arms, and drawled lazily to the little bird on his head. “Getting an eyeful, huh? Prime Minister’s daily routine—pure class~”

“Cousin, whose man is it today?” Sui Ziming turned to ask Pei Du.

“A eunuch brought His Majesty’s oral decree at the chen hour.”

Pei Du rinsed a teacup and poured a cup of plain water, setting it by the table’s edge.

“The eunuch who just left delivered an edict from the Empress Dowager.”

Sui Ziming’s tsk was exceptionally loud.

Shen Jiujiu quickly rummaged through his memories.

Fortunately, the broad backdrop of the original novel counted as a major plot thread—one that Shen Xinian had diligently noted down at the start of the plain silk.

The Empress Dowager in the palace, who wielded some influence through her extended family, had been the late emperor’s empress, not the current Emperor’s birth mother.

This new emperor, who had stumbled into the throne, was roughly the same age as Sui Ziming—early twenties—but the Empress Dowager and Prince Wu’s faction had stalled his coming-of-age ceremony with one excuse after another.

He hadn’t even held a wedding.

No coming-of-age rite meant no right to govern. No marriage meant no legitimate allies among the nobility.

Viewing it that way, if he probed just a little deeper…

The palace’s two towering obstacles: the Emperor held no real authority, and the Empress Dowager lacked any standout talents to anchor her position. Wary of each other, they had both settled on Pei Du—this upright yet isolated minister—to provisionally steer the reins of government.

That explained why every memorial to the throne fell under the Cabinet’s control. Whatever Pei Du handed the Emperor was all the Emperor ever saw.

Right—if he was merely a Cabinet minister, why was his desk piled high with memorials awaiting the Emperor’s review?

At best, you could call it the Cabinet’s duty to draft proposals, suggesting courses of action on the memorials for the Emperor’s vermilion brush to approve. But if the man on the dragon throne voiced real dissent, how much heed would Pei Du pay?

Shen Jiujiu sucked in a sharp breath.

This went beyond mere power broker, didn’t it?

One step forward made him a regent. One step back branded him a grand villain!

Oh, wait—not quite.

Shen Jiujiu mulled it over.

The Empress Dowager wasn’t the Emperor’s mother, so their interests likely diverged. The Emperor might lack an empress, but his harem brimmed with consorts.

Shen Jiujiu had spotted a draft for selecting new palace beauties right there on Pei Du’s desk!

The Empress Dowager was probably biding her time until the Emperor sired heirs from the rear palace. She’d raise them at her side, mold them into loyal pawns, then propel a young imperial grandson onto the throne—truly bulking up her clan’s clout. Which meant she had no desire to let the Emperor spread his wings too wide.

Pei Du had slipped right into that crack: outwardly the Emperor’s man, in truth serving the Empress Dowager’s ends, while steering clear of offending Prince Wu. A minister gripping true power, yet artfully dodging entanglement with any of the three.

Save for the occasional pointed jabs from the Emperor and Empress Dowager alike, plus Prince Wu’s sly sabotage from the shadows.

Pei Du’s sick leave kept him out of court while the trio tore into one another; he watched from the sidelines with cool detachment. No wonder the Emperor and Empress Dowager, fretting over Prince Wu’s ambitions, kept hounding him to return and steady the ship of state.

A triple agent?

Benefactor was playing a dangerous game!

“Hiss! What’re you thinking? You’re yanking my scalp raw.” Sui Ziming shook his head, teasing Shen Jiujiu.

But the very Shen Jiujiu who’d clung tenaciously to his hair crown moments before suddenly launched airborne—a little bird cannonball hurtling straight for Pei Du.

The bird plummeted from above, threading between Pei Du’s arms amid a swirl of tumbling petals and spring breeze, before nestling smack into his chest.

A few breaths later.

Shen Jiujiu poked his head slowly from Pei Du’s embrace, a single peach petal perched absurdly on his forehead. His round little bird eyes fixed on the book Pei Du was leafing through.

Even out here in the rear garden pavilion, Benefactor had to be immersed in the classics of sages and worthies, right?

Harboring devout curiosity, Shen Jiujiu peered over—only to freeze at the frothy romance spilling from the open pages.

Huh?

Huh??

Pei Du draped his sleeve over the little bird, mercifully shielding those wide eyes brimming with raw disbelief.

Sui Ziming glanced over. Yeah, figures—this little bird spots Pei Du back at the mansion and the world fades away. He brushed the debris from his clothes, shrugged with a soft tsk, and said, “Guess I’ll head out then. Gotta change; I’ve got plans tonight.”

Shen Jiujiu had just nudged Pei Du’s sleeve aside for a peek when Sui Ziming flaunted his soiled collar and hem. Feeling a pang of guilt, he ducked sheepishly back under the fabric.

Well, sparrow balls were a different breed from a human-turned bird like him. Little birds really couldn’t help their messes…

Still, it had been pretty outrageous.

“Jiujiu.”

Sorry about that.

Ever the one to own his actions—and make amends for his sparrow brethren—Shen Jiujiu wriggled out from beneath Pei Du’s wrist. He spread his wings for a proper bow, but his claws hit a puddle on the table. They skidded, sending him into a spectacular, full-body bird prostration aimed squarely at Sui Ziming.

“Pfft!”

“Hahaha—no need for such a grand gesture, pffthahahaha—”

Sui Ziming lunged forward, prodding with a finger to prop up the rigidly frozen Shen Jiujiu. He clamped down on his lip, but the laughter bubbled over uncontrollably.

Pei Du had sought a daytime nap, but without his little bird, sleep eluded him. Already worn thin, he’d just fended off two rounds of palace eunuchs demanding his attention, leaving a simmer of frustration beneath the surface.

Yet at the sight of Shen Jiujiu’s antics, Pei Du found himself lifting a hand to press curved fingers to his lips, a subtle smile softening his features.

Shen Jiujiu, mortified beyond endurance, erupted: “Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!!!!!”

“Aww, no clue what that means. Little bird’s chirping is just too adorable. Catch you later! Big Brother Ziming’ll take you out again next time~”

“Pffthahahaha!”

Shen Jiujiu fumed as Sui Ziming staggered off, doubled over with mirth. He stomped his tiny feet on the table in outrage.

Pei Du slid the teacup closer, nudging it toward the little bird as a silent invitation to sip and simmer down.

After scarfing dried meat, flatbreads, and sugar balls on the road—not to mention hollering at full volume—Shen Jiujiu was parched indeed.

For the moment, he shelved his humiliation. Obediently cradling the cup in his wings, he dipped his beak to drink.

As he quenched his thirst, Shen Jiujiu turned his thoughts inward.

He’d already planted his sparrow scouts to keep tabs on the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion and Sui Ziming’s whereabouts. For now, it was all about waiting.

Hmm… Why not test the waters? Reborn as this little bird, could he slip Pei Du some hints about the plot?

Mind made up, Shen Jiujiu craned his neck for a scan.

The octagonal pavilion was built for flower-viewing and scenery, not paperwork; no inkstone or brush cluttered the table.

His gaze settled at last on the teacup cradled in his wings.

Hmm…