Unresolved troubles won’t simply vanish.
But they can shift elsewhere.
Xie Jingtang and Shen Xinian accepted their lack of connections among the capital’s power elite with remarkable nonchalance and perfect logic, promptly handing off the headache of selecting a principal guest for the capping ceremony to the ever-capable Lord Pei.
Pei Du found himself momentarily speechless.
In the past, he would have been the obvious choice to perform Shen Xinian’s capping ceremony. Whether by status or personal bond, no one was more fitting—and outsiders would have thought twice before objecting.
But now… it simply wouldn’t do.
That realization only made finding a suitable candidate all the more challenging.
Pei Du had no intention of letting Shen Xinian endure even the slightest grievance, which meant the elders of the Shen clan had never even entered his considerations.
Yet those whose rank could eclipse his own numbered only a handful within the palace walls.
Old grudges lingered, and hidden currents churned beneath the surface.
…Even worse.
There were, of course, some eminent scholars who had retired to their homes.
But scholars hailing from noble military lineages came with tangled webs of marriage alliances and entrenched connections. The Pei Mansion, with Pei Du at its helm, posed no issue for Shen Xinian. The problem lay in the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion, where three individuals remained—nominally, at least—his direct kin.
Each of those three had ties of varying depth to Prince Wu’s faction. A moment’s oversight could give their enemies an opening to exploit later, spinning it into a major scandal.
As for scholars from the purer literary circles, they had begun to whisper criticisms of Pei Du’s firm grip on power and his reluctance to restore full authority to the Emperor. They were unlikely to wade into such troubled waters.
For the moment, Pei Du drew a blank on a truly ideal choice.
Actually, no—there was one elder who would have been perfect.
But… never mind.
Pei Du raised a hand to his brow, pressing down the surge of irritation bubbling within him.
The person at the center of it all, Shen Xinian, barely gave the matter a thought. The capping ceremony was still months away, after all; there would be time to decide later.
“If there’s really no other option, why don’t you do the honors for me?” The youth sidled closer, his voice laced with blatant temptation, like a sly little hook tugging at Pei Du’s heart. “Doesn’t Benefactor want to personally bestow my courtesy name on me? To place the cap on my head and stand right behind me as I complete the rite?”
Shen Xinian tugged at Pei Du’s sleeve, his fingers poking insistently, one after another.
“Come on, just say it. I know Benefactor’s thought about giving me my courtesy name.”
Pei Du could hear the unsteady thrum of his own heartbeat.
He glanced sideways and caught Shen Xinian grinning like a Little Bird Dumpling that had snuck a taste of dried meat—eyes crinkled in mischief, his gaze brimming with playful teasing.
Pei Du reached out to adjust the jade pendant hanging at Shen Xinian’s waist, his tone a mix of exasperation and fondness. “Don’t tease.”
“Don’t let it weigh on you too much. Worst case, we can always grab a clan elder. It’s only a capping ceremony—not our bonding ritual.” Shen Xinian pulled Pei Du into a quick hug. “I’m off to review the ledgers. Finish up early tonight and head back to the inner courtyard. I’ve got something to tell you~”
Shen Xinian had half a mind to steal a cuddle and a kiss from his beloved, but Pei Du’s expression gave him pause. Perhaps it was the earlier talk of the capping ceremony, but something about it felt almost sacrilegious.
He wavered for a moment, temptation stirring, but ultimately held back and scampered off.
Pei Du had caught every flicker of desire and hesitation on Shen Xinian’s face. He stood rooted in place, his fingers absently rubbing together within his sleeve.
A couple of breaths later, a soft chuckle escaped him.
~~~
That day, Shen Xinian had summoned all the managers from the Pei Mansion’s capital enterprises.
Little Bird’s first days in the mansion had left a lasting impression, thanks in no small part to one particularly audacious manager.
Pei Du had deliberately fudged the books—shifting funds from one hand to the other and cultivating these greedy, bold-faced stewards—but even so, this one manager revealed just how lax things must have been under the old National Duke Mansion.
In overhauling the household accounts, Shen Xinian could turn a blind eye to past fuzzy expenditures. But the managers of the estates and shops? He had no intention of going easy on them.
Especially…
His gaze settled on the figure standing at the edge of the group.
The current head manager had kept them waiting for nearly half an hour. Most of the men, heads bowed, betrayed flickers of unease in their eyes and expressions—guilt here, anxiety there, brazen confidence elsewhere, pensiveness in another.
Only one familiar face remained steadily bowed, posture humbly deferential, his features calm and unruffled from start to finish.
Shen Xinian knew full well that this manager, though not one of the Dark Guards, was a trusted confidant of unswerving loyalty. Still—
“Manager Xu, suppose you acquire an abacus of pearwood and ivory beads from a Jiangnan scholar. What would you pay for it, and what would you charge?”
The woodware shop’s manager jolted at the sudden question from this master he’d never met, tension gripping him. But as the words sank in, a strange sense of oddity bloomed.
Questions from the master were routine enough, yet this one felt uncannily precise—eerily familiar, even.
Truth be told, up until today, Manager Xu hadn’t known his true master hailed from the Pei Family of the National Duke Mansion. Manager in name, he functioned more as the public face of an intelligence network.
The abrupt summons for an account audit—a mundane task ill-suited to a woodware shop—had left him baffled.
Which was why he hung on Shen Xinian’s every word.
…And yet, for all his pondering, he couldn’t place the source of that nagging familiarity.
Manager Xu stepped forward, cupped his hands in salute, and replied with respect. “To Master: For a fine specimen, I’d pay no more than twenty-five taels. The selling price…”
He paused. “…would depend on the buyer’s status.”
When selling wares, tailoring the price to the mark was basic business.
Wealthy buyers warranted a markup; those who seemed dead set on the item deserved an even steeper gouge.
Shen Xinian got it completely.
If only Little Bird hadn’t been on the receiving end.
Recalling those tiny bird claws that had nearly cramped from all the counting, he shot the woodware manager a wistful glance before waving him back.
Ah, whatever.
Manager Xu had only flipped it for a thirty-tael profit. Benefactor, on the other hand, had casually doubled fifty to a hundred—heart as black as they came.
Yanked out for a pop quiz, questioned, then dismissed without reprimand—Manager Xu’s pulse raced.
Even as Shen Xinian pored over the ledgers and grilled the others one by one, the man kept turning that elusive familiarity over in his mind.
He mulled and mulled… until Shen Xinian produced a pearwood abacus inset with ivory beads—one that looked all too familiar.
Manager Xu: “…”
It all came flooding back.
After all, that little bird was truly clever and quick-witted, and the person who made the little bird write a policy essay was also one of a kind.
Manager Xu closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Oh no.
He’d fleeced the customers all the way to the main family’s head.
…
No matter what, Manager Xu had done normal business. From Shen Xinian’s attitude, he could tell the main family had no intention of pursuing it, but rather seemed quite teasing.
But apologies and amends still needed to be made. Manager Xu immediately paid out of his own pocket to select a few high-quality abacuses and sent them to the mansion, saying nothing about the main family—just that they were for Little Bird.
Close relationships are built through back-and-forth. The newly appointed steward Shen Xinian had shown goodwill of closeness, and Manager Xu naturally reciprocated.
Shen Xinian pulled some evidence of other managers colluding from the interlayer of an abacus and lightly flicked it with his finger.
This Manager Xu lived up to his reputation in intelligence work; he was very savvy when it came to handling people and business.
Shen Xinian had a rough idea in his mind.
Managers being greedy wasn’t a big problem—which abacus-handler had clean hands? But those with too big an appetite and no loyalty to the main family wouldn’t do.
However, these managers needed to be rectified slowly, replaced bit by bit; acting too hastily could breed trouble.
A tangled ball of yarn was indeed messy when clumped together, but finding the end and slowly unraveling and sorting it out was utterly fascinating to Shen Xinian.
Once he got into it, he not only skipped lunch in the Flower Hall but didn’t even bother stepping out the door for dinner.
Until Pei Du returned to the Inner Courtyard, didn’t see him, and came personally to drag him away.
The account book was snatched from Shen Xinian’s hands, but his eyes still reluctantly trailed after it upward.
Pei Du raised his hand and lightly pressed against Shen Xinian’s forehead. Seeing the youth looking up at him innocently, he couldn’t help but flick Shen Xinian’s forehead.
Nearly a whole day without seeing him, soaking in the account room courtyard, not even eating properly.
Had to look at account books here?
Couldn’t go to the study in the front courtyard?
It’s not like there were no places.
Pei Du thought this inwardly, his lips pursing.
Today, he’d glanced toward the study door several times—no Little Bird, no one.
Finally it was mealtime, but unexpectedly Shen Xinian hadn’t even gone to the Flower Hall.
Shen Xinian tilted his head to look at him and suddenly asked, “Did you miss me?”
Another sudden straight ball. Pei Du curled the fingers that had been gently rubbing Shen Xinian’s forehead and slowly withdrew them into his sleeve. “I know where you are.”
Shen Xinian raised an eyebrow.
Oh~
Not answering yes or no meant he definitely had.
“Today I met with the manager, people coming and going—the study wasn’t convenient after all.”
Shen Xinian reached out, his fingertip drilling into Pei Du’s palm and hooking his pinky.
Lord Pei’s originally flat lips unconsciously curved up, his fingers in the sleeve wrapping around Shen Xinian’s hand. “What’s inconvenient about it? The front courtyard is a place with people coming and going anyway.”
Shen Xinian gently shook Pei Du’s pinky. “Then tomorrow I’ll have someone send the account books to the study, and we can work together.”
Only then did Pei Du’s lips curve up.
Since Benefactor had come to drag him away, Shen Xinian glanced at the time of day, stood up, and pulled Pei Du toward the Inner Courtyard together.
Shen Xinian’s fingertips scratched in Pei Du’s palm.
While walking, Shen Xinian pondered how to tell Pei Du about the existence of the original book, about its protagonists and antagonists, about the plots that had happened, been changed, and were about to happen.
Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck Shen Xinian. “Ah, right! I kept forgetting to ask—what happened afterwards with that Lu Mu from the Five Cities Soldier and Horse Division I mentioned to you before?”
