“Jiujiu?”
Shen Jiujiu was a little bird who asked his questions straight out.
Sui Ziming didn’t speak bird and turned to Pei Du.
Shen Jiujiu pressed one claw on the jujube and looked at Pei Du as well.
Pei Du pondered for a moment before telling Shen Jiujiu, “Try acting it out. I might not guess.”
Shen Jiujiu didn’t budge, hunkering down in his high perch and fixing Pei Du with a stare.
The little bird had just been toyed with by the brilliantly sharp Lord Pei, so for at least the next three days, he would distrust every single word that came out of Pei Du’s mouth.
A faint sigh tinged with regret escaped Pei Du’s lips. He translated for Sui Ziming, “Jiujiu wants to know where you got the chain mail.”
Sui Ziming: “?”
Sui Ziming was at a loss for words. “Why not just answer him yourself? Why make it go through you first?”
Pei Du gave a noncommittal smile. “He asked you, not me.”
Sui Ziming scowled.
Why did those words carry such a snarky edge?
Shen Jiujiu didn’t care who answered. Right now, the little bird wanted his explanation!
“Chirp chirp chirp!”
Sui Ziming shoved Pei Du’s subtle shade aside for the moment and began, “It was just a few days ago…”
~~~
That day, Sui Ziming had come to deliver a message to Pei Du. As he turned to leave, Pei Du stopped him.
Pei Du retrieved the chain mail from a hidden compartment in the study and handed it over, instructing Sui Ziming to wear it whenever he went out over the next few days.
Sui Ziming: “Huh?”
He glanced at Pei Du, then at the chain mail in his hand. His mouth opened and closed several times before any sound came out.
“No need for that, cousin. This thing would get in the way of fighting—not to mention I don’t need it for regular sparring—”
Sui Ziming knew all about this chain mail.
When Great Zhou’s founding emperor divvied up rewards for his meritorious retainers, those who had battled at his side each received unique family heirlooms.
Duke Pei had been no delicate scholar but a scholar-general who took sword in hand and charged the battlefield, so the Pei family’s gift was this extraordinary chain mail: supple and close-fitting, yet utterly impervious to sword or blade.
The Sui family’s red-tasseled spear shared the same storied origin.
Unfortunately, the Pei family had shone too brightly in those days. The shrewd Duke Pei chose to step back from power at its peak, and his descendants gradually transitioned from warriors to civil officials. The chain mail had lain forgotten ever since.
For an heirloom of such gravity, Sui Ziming’s immediate impulse was to turn it down.
But Pei Du’s gaze brooked no argument, and the rest of his protest died unspoken.
What if disaster really struck? What if… this one piece of armor was the difference between life and death?
If something happened to him, his cousin…
Sui Ziming fell silent for a long stretch, lips pressed thin. Right there in front of Pei Du, he shrugged off his outer robe and donned the chain mail beneath it.
And it was that very armor, shielding Sui Ziming’s vital spots, that had stopped the poison arrow dead—averting his untimely end.
~~~
Shen Jiujiu listened to Sui Ziming’s tale, his gaze drifting back to Pei Du.
Man and bird shared a knowing look, tacit understanding passing between them.
The little bird dumpling perked up with sudden delight.
To Shen Jiujiu, it meant more than just rescuing this hapless fellow—it gave him, for the first time, the solid comfort of an ally at his side, standing shoulder to shoulder against the storm.
The little bird dipped his head and chirped a merry tune, gobbling two big bites of jujube.
Sui Ziming, oblivious to the cozy vibe between Pei Du and Shen Jiujiu, went on. “The chain mail should be in the wardrobe. I shoved it to the bottom.”
Pei Du stood and crossed to the wardrobe, pulling out the chain mail Sui Ziming had shed and setting it on the desk.
Curiosity drawing him, Shen Jiujiu unfurled his wings and glided down, alighting beside the chain mail. He craned his neck this way and that, peering closely.
Sui Ziming grumbled from his bedbound sprawl. “Can’t you two scoot over to the bed so I can get in on this?”
Pei Du behaved as though no one else occupied the room, leaning in head-to-head with Shen Jiujiu to inspect the chain mail for damage.
With a handkerchief padded beneath, Pei Du carefully turned the armor over. At his side, Shen Jiujiu traced a shape with his claw. “Chirp chirp.”
That was the spot.
The little bird who had watched it all unfold from nearby remembered the arrowhead’s catch better than Sui Ziming himself, the intended target.
Pei Du wiped down the chain mail’s surface and seams with the handkerchief. But with no true impact from the arrow, any lingering traces of poison seemed unlikely.
Shen Jiujiu knew exactly what Pei Du sought, yet he held back, instead puffing out his chest and parading across the desk in crisp steps. Every so often, he shot Pei Du a meaningful glance.
Got an important question for the little bird? If he was in the right mood, he might deign to answer~
Pei Du hadn’t unwrapped the leaf packet, but Shen Jiujiu’s earlier recollection of it—coupled with the little bird dumpling’s cocksure poise—made it seventy percent certain the packet tied to the poison arrow.
He had only just finished teasing Shen Jiujiu without fully making amends yet. Perfect timing.
Lord Pei lowered his voice a touch. “The assassins able to do so took their own lives on the spot. The few survivors yielded nothing, so this poison arrow is our key to cracking the case.”
Shen Jiujiu bobbed his head vigorously, eyes agleam. “Chirp chirp!”
Yes, yes—the poison arrow was crucial!
Pei Du pressed on. “The puppet master sets great store by this venom. When I arrived with my men, the ringleader bolted without a second thought but paused to snatch the poison arrow on his way out. There’s more at play here.”
Shen Jiujiu: “Chirp chirp~ Chirp chirp!”
Such sidelong validation thrilled the little bird more than outright flattery.
Emboldened, Shen Jiujiu puffed his chest higher still, Pei Du’s words inflating him until he nearly trilled a triumphant ode to his own genius.
Pei Du’s smile deepened. He was poised to pile on the praise when Sui Ziming cut in.
“You two—one in human tongue, one in bird calls—chatting away like old pals…” Lacking all tact, Sui Ziming dragged himself to the table’s edge, snatching up the leaf packet to muscle into the conversation. “Oh, and I meant to ask—what’s this?”
Pei Du’s gaze flicked coolly over Sui Ziming.
A childhood of sporadic digs and pranks had honed Sui Ziming’s instincts; a chill prickled his nape, and he whipped around to his cousin.
Pei Du said, “You’re up and about, so the wound truly is minor. Rest properly once you’re home tomorrow. In five days, deliver a self-reflection book.”
Sui Ziming had been hoping to mooch off his cousin’s mansion for ten days or even half a month. “Ah? Fine, I’ll go back if I have to, but there’s no need for any self-reflection book… Ow!”
Pecked by Shen Jiujiu’s sharp little beak, Sui Ziming yelped and released the grass stem he’d already half-peeled.
Shen Jiujiu spread his wings and chased after Sui Ziming’s mischievous hand with aggressive pecks, driving both of the man’s hands off the table. Only then did he huff out a loud chirp.
Don’t you dare peel it!
Do you even know what this is? And you go peeling it anyway!
Why is your hand so damn itchy?!
Benefactor was right—some people leave their brains at home when they go out. And they don’t have any to begin with!
“Talk it out nicely, no need to get fierce! You’re not even as big as my fist, but damn if you aren’t feisty… All right, all right, I won’t say another word!”
Sui Ziming quickly raised both hands in surrender.
Shen Jiujiu ignored him and turned toward the leaf packet. Under Pei Du’s watchful gaze, he carefully gripped a grass stem with his claws and untied it bit by bit. Layer after layer of leaves peeled away, revealing the innermost one, folded in a different direction.
He lifted a claw toward Pei Du. “Chirp!”
Pei Du paused for a moment, then extended a hand.
Shen Jiujiu tore off several of the outermost leaves, padding them with his claw before rubbing them vigorously against Pei Du’s finger several times. He tilted his head, as if asking whether Pei Du understood.
“Chirp chirp chirp. Chirp chirp chirp chirp.”
Just like this, then like that.
His demonstration was so vivid that not only did Pei Du—who had already suspected as much—get it, but even Sui Ziming caught on.
“Not bad, Jiujiu! You used tree leaves to wipe the poison off the arrowhead?!” Sui Ziming’s hand shot out to ruffle Shen Jiujiu’s head enthusiastically. “But why not rip off a strip of cloth to wipe it? What if the leaves tore? Cloth would’ve been way more convenient.”
Shen Jiujiu fled across the table from the onslaught, then dove headfirst into Pei Du’s sleeve. He poked out just half his little bird head, propping up the fabric as he chirped furiously.
What do you know?! Idiot!
“The poison arrow was taken away, and whoever’s behind this clearly cares a great deal about the toxin. They’ll inspect the arrowhead for sure. Cloth from clothing would leave traces and tip them off.”
Pei Du shielded Shen Jiujiu from Sui Ziming’s grasp and explained.
“Xinian’s quick thinking here was not only clever but thorough. You could stand to learn a thing or two from him.”
Sui Ziming winced as the motion tugged at his wound. “Mm-hmm, got it. I’ll learn from our Jiujiu~”
Pei Du glanced at the leaves spread out on the table. “I’ll have someone take these to Mr. Jin for a look.”
With the immediate matter settled, Pei Du shared the news he’d only just received. “The robbed carriage contained less than half the silver.”
Clearly, after this fiasco, even if the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion wanted to move the rest, they wouldn’t resort to the same method again.
This time, they were destined to swallow this silent loss.
The loss itself was a small matter. The real issue was the shortfall in winter pay for the Canlang Army.
Sui Ziming’s gaze darkened, and he pressed his lips together. “Understood. I’ll send word to the army and have them prepare.”
For now, all they could do was brace for the worst and figure out another way.
Pei Du nodded, then shifted topics. “Once you’re back, make sure to entertain the esteemed guest in your mansion properly. Don’t let yourself get too worked up.”
Sui Ziming blinked in confusion. “Huh? What esteemed guest?”
Shen Jiujiu—who had thumped his chest to take on Sui Ziming’s debt and even had A Sa lead a flock of sparrows to set up house in the Sui Mansion—averted his gaze. His round eyes radiated the pure innocence of a bird with no involvement whatsoever.
That one was pricey, all right.
Once they arrived, they wouldn’t leave. And there’d be more with each generation.
The kind you had to support for life.
He hoped Sui Ziming had the money for it.
Well… he probably did?
Shen Jiujiu was still mulling over whether to tag along back to the Sui Mansion for the show when Pei Du spoke up. “Xinian, I was serious earlier. I’ve finished reading your policy essay, along with that previous study postscript. There are some issues with both, and we need to discuss them.”
“We can’t waste your talent.”
Sui Ziming, who had never once caught Little Bird writing during his visits to the Pei Mansion, was even more baffled.
A study postscript was one thing, but had his cousin really assigned Jiujiu a policy essay?
With those tiny bird claws, what kind of essay could he even write?
Next thing you knew, it’d be piano, chess, calligraphy, painting—the Six Arts of the Gentleman?
Raptors for martial families did need combat and command training, sure. But Sui Ziming had scoured the Capital and never heard of any scholar’s household training their pet bird to read and write.
At most, folks taught parrots a few human phrases.
Even if Shen Jiujiu had been human before, he was just a little bird now!
Was this… really right?
Shen Jiujiu, who actually did have talent, scurried out of Pei Du’s sleeve in tiny steps, desperate to escape the nightmare of a teacher critiquing his homework to his face—possibly followed by one-on-one tutoring.
He had been pumped up by Pei Du’s words earlier, ready to burn the midnight oil and study like mad. But now that the essay was done and his head had cooled, Shen Jiujiu—whose true nature was anything but a grind—suddenly realized the truth.
He was just a little bird now!
The pet bird of a top minister, chirping away in the palm of his hand, already smack in the center of the plot!
He could chat plot points with Benefactor without a hitch!
So why was he grinding away at his studies like this?
Wouldn’t it be nicer to be a clever, laid-back salted fish of a bird?!
Unfortunately, he’d barely waddled a few steps, tail tucked, before Pei Du pinched his plump little body. Shen Jiujiu let out a despairing chirp.
“Chirp chirp chirp, cheep cheep.” He sniffled pathetically and turned around, all wilted.
Fine.
A true little bird dared to face the trials of homework head-on.
Wah.
