Chapter 15: Calming Incense

Pei Du sensed something was wrong the instant he woke.

His body went rigid, lips pressed tight, as he slipped a hand into the loosened collar of his inner robe and fished out a warm, toasty Little Bird Dumpling.

Shen Jiujiu nestled obediently in Pei Du’s palm. When he saw Pei Du awake, there was no big reaction—just a listless chirp before he drooped his little bird head limply.

Pei Du took a moment to compose himself, forcing away the memory of that unfamiliar softness against his chest upon waking. He inspected the Little Bird Dumpling, made sure it wasn’t injured, then set Shen Jiujiu safely by the pillow and sat up to straighten his robe.

Shen Jiujiu huddled at the edge of the pillow like a baby chick, wings tucked close. When Pei Du glanced over, he saw the usually energetic Little Bird Dumpling jabbing vigorously at the embroidered edging with his beak.

“What’s wrong?” Pei Du knew something was off with Shen Jiujiu today.

Shen Jiujiu stood up, frustration evident as if he desperately wanted to speak but couldn’t form words. His claws scraped at the bedsheet, leaving wrinkles, before he finally uttered a low chirp.

His guess had been right—Sui Ziming had indeed died in that mountain silver robbery scheme.

The Zhenguo Marquis Mansion posed no real threat, but the sum was enormous, easy money to boot. Prince Wu’s faction suspected a trap, and other powers had likely set their sights on it too.

Long Aotian, the Male Lead and Heir of Prince Wu, had just reached the perfect age. Prince Wu turned the affair into a whetstone for his son—to let him see blood, harden his resolve.

Sui Ziming was exceptional, far beyond his peers. At just over twenty, he already commanded the army’s loyalty, proof of his own prowess and cunning.

But he was pitted against the original novel’s protagonist: Long Aotian Male Lead, blessed with endless cheats, perpetual good fortune, and mysterious experts appearing at every turn.

Shen Jiujiu eyed his little bird claws and stubby wings.

Over those past dozen years, Shen Xinian had toiled endlessly, utterly convinced that details of the original plot could neither be spoken nor written.

Now as Shen Jiujiu, those invisible shackles bound him even tighter.

He could teach Pei Du the secret codes only he understood, but Shen Jiujiu dared not risk it. What if others learned them, deciphered the plot, and erased every trace Shen Xinian had painstakingly left behind?

What if those dreams vanished too?

He still didn’t know why cuddling up to Pei Du for sleep unlocked dreams of his past memories, but they were clearly vital—packed with useful knowledge.

After last night’s dream, suspicions had formed in Shen Jiujiu’s mind.

The original Shen Xinian had known his mother faced calamity and cared deeply about it. He couldn’t possibly have done nothing.

Yet after Xie Jingtang vanished, he abandoned the Xie Family’s shops and estates in Jinling to follow the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion north to the Capital.

Vanished.

The word suddenly filled Shen Jiujiu with an unprecedented sense of security.

It implied the unknown—but also boundless possibility.

The Zhenguo Marquis Mansion was strapped for cash now, so his mother’s lands and businesses probably never fell into that cheap father’s hands. Mother or Shen Xinian must have transferred or hidden them beforehand.

Her storyline had already deviated. Sui Ziming’s death could surely be averted too.

There had to be a loophole, a way through.

Energized, Shen Jiujiu drew a deep breath, puffed out his tiny chest, and unleashed a drawn-out challenge toward the open window.

“Chirp—chirp chirp—!!”

Pei Du, freshly dressed and washed, eyed the Little Bird Dumpling facing off against the sky. He waved the maidservant away.

Having vented at the thieving heavens, Shen Jiujiu shook off his wilted slump. He marched toward Pei Du with bold swagger, tiny flames of determination flickering in his wake.

Pei Du: “…”

He knew that aura well—the same vibe from Shen Jiujiu’s first nocturnal raid on his bed.

Pei Du resolved to keep a safe distance from the Little Bird Dumpling today.

“I have business in the front courtyard,” he said. “Stay in the rear garden, or come to the study?”

Shen Jiujiu lifted a claw, signaling his intent to work on the policy essay.

The eagerness caught Pei Du off guard. “No need to rush the policy essay. Take your time.”

Writing with bird claws was no easy feat.

Shen Jiujiu flapped his wings, backed up for a running start, and hopped onto Pei Du’s outstretched palm. He chirped sharply twice, urging haste to the study.

The Little Bird wasn’t fooling around—he was racing against time to save a life!

Sui Ziming should still be lying low these next couple of days, awaiting the Marquis Mansion’s move… If only he could plant eyes on them.

Far quicker than second-guessing Sui Ziming’s plans.

Hold on.

He was Shen Jiujiu now.

A bird!

He had chatted with A Sa before, so why not other birds?

For spying, who could rival birds—ubiquitous, overlooked specks in the sky!

Shen Jiujiu’s eyes gleamed. He glanced at his claws and wings, then launched from Pei Du’s palm, bouncing toward the rear garden.

From a distance, he resembled a jiggling bird ball.

Shen Jiujiu wasn’t some caged pet, after all. Pei Du had no plans to confine him that way. He summoned a servant boy. “Watch over him carefully. Whatever he needs, follow his lead.”

The boy bowed and tailed the fluffy hopper without a hint of surprise or slack—bird or no.

The maidservant presented a robe infused with fresh incense for Pei Du to don. He rinsed his hands once more, then strolled toward the front courtyard.

~~~

“My lord.”

It was Pei Du’s routine pulse-check day. Doctor Jin had arrived early in the front courtyard and rose swiftly to bow as Pei Du entered.

Healers relied on inspection, auscultation, interrogation, and palpation. Before even touching Pei Du’s wrist, Doctor Jin keenly noted the changes in the man before him.

Those plagued by night terrors and insomnia bore telltale exhaustion they couldn’t hide. Sudden migraines brought agony, and over time, victims wasted away, their tempers frayed.

But today, Pei Du appeared unusually relaxed. The deep-seated fatigue and gloom in his eyes had faded considerably, even tinged with a trace of amusement.

Years ago, when Pei Du’s migraines had suddenly flared up, he had consulted countless physicians both openly and in secret—even summoning numerous imperial doctors from the palace—yet none had brought any real relief.

Later, Sui Ziming had stumbled upon rumors of Doctor Jin, a healer renowned for treating such headaches. After much pleading, he had convinced the doctor to come to Pei Mansion.

Though Doctor Jin could not fully cure Pei Du’s night terrors and insomnia, his medicinal cuisine and Calming Incense at least allowed Pei Du to snatch some fitful sleep, staving off the worsening pain that felt like his skull was splitting open.

Without Doctor Jin’s tireless refinements to those recipes over the years, Pei Du’s condition might have deteriorated far worse.

“Mr. Jin, please have a seat. There’s no need for such formalities.”

Pei Du held the physician in high regard. He hurried forward to steady Doctor Jin, sparing him the full bow.

Doctor Jin, however, seized Pei Du’s wrist in turn. His fingers pressed urgently to the pulse point, propriety forgotten in his haste.

Releasing his grip, Doctor Jin asked, “Has My Lord taken some superior medicine of late?”

No one knew a patient’s state better than their physician, and Lord Pei had always followed treatments to the letter. Doctor Jin was aware that Pei Du had ceased using the Calming Incense the day before, which explained his early morning rush to check the pulse.

Pei Du’s fingertips grazed the edge of the nearby table, a shadow of contemplation crossing his eyes. Then, in measured tones, he replied, “No superior medicine. But the household has acquired a little sparrow.”

Doctor Jin tugged at his beard, pondering deeply. At last, he said, “I did once speculate that a companion pet might ease My Lord’s night terrors. Yet it should not have worked so swiftly…”

Pei Du paused, lightly massaging his temple. His voice remained even: “The little sparrow is incorrigibly mischievous. It pesters me by day and by night alike, leaving no room for idle worries. Even on the rare occasions when sleep comes deep, its flapping wings jolt me awake. Truly…”

Pei Du spoke of the sparrow on the surface, but the fondness and protectiveness woven into his words were plain. Healers who had reached such an age were keen judges of character, and Doctor Jin read Pei Du’s stance clearly. He bit back his request to see the bird and pivoted smoothly.

“Then this little sparrow must share a destined bond with My Lord. Migraines arise from the heart’s unrest; a mind at ease soothes the spirit, and night terrors fade away. The Calming Incense serves well enough, but it is a drug all the same—one that courts addiction. My Lord would do well to try forgoing it for a time.”

Pei Du offered no reply this time.

From the moment Doctor Jin had first prepared the Calming Incense, he had warned Pei Du: it worked, yes, but prolonged use bred dependence. The doses would only grow larger with time.

And when its calming power finally ebbed? The night terrors and migraines would rebound with savage force, more agonizing than ever.

Pei Du had endured without options back then.

But now…

The Calming Incense was addictive. Who could say whether that Little Bird Dumpling might prove his next obsession, impossible to relinquish?

The risk struck Pei Du as too uncertain, too hazardous.

To outsiders, swapping the incense—with all its perils—for an innocuous little bird seemed a no-brainer.

Yet Shen Jiujiu was no ordinary bird. Pei Du could not, in good conscience, confine him solely for the sake of his own health.

Spotting Pei Du’s hesitation, Doctor Jin pressed on as any healer might: “My Lord, every medicine carries poison in its veins. Best to break the habit sooner rather than later.”

~~~

While Pei Du submitted to his pulse examination in the front courtyard, Shen Jiujiu was in the Rear Garden, recruiting fellow birds.

He gestured emphatically with his wings, directing a servant boy to scatter millet and grains across the ground. Then he batted at the boy’s trouser leg with his wing, urging him to stand a little farther off.

The servant boy gazed at Shen Jiujiu, finding the little bird irresistibly cute and clever from every angle. Unable to resist, he reached out to stroke it.

His hand froze midway—he recalled this was the master’s own pet. He yanked it back at once.

Sensing the motion, Shen Jiujiu graciously tilted his little head toward the boy.

“Chirp chirp chirp chirp, chirp chirp chirp chirp?”

Thank you for your help. Would you like to pet Little Bird’s head?

The servant boy might not command Lord Pei’s mastery of bird-speak, but this Little Bird Dumpling radiated confidence: every last feather screamed, I know I’m adorable—pet me already.

Emboldened, the boy extended a gentle hand and brushed the tip of Shen Jiujiu’s wing.

Once the servant boy had retreated, Shen Jiujiu shook out his wings and flexed his tiny claws before hopping toward the millet patch.

There stood a plump, fluffy bird ball—clearly pampered and thriving—pecking leisurely at the grains. Every few bites, it scampered to the adjacent pond for a performative sip.

Shen Jiujiu couldn’t stomach the pond water, of course, but the act served its purpose.

It wasn’t long before sparrows began alighting in the Rear Garden, one by one then in clusters. Most were drab and gray, the sort that blended into any street scene without drawing a glance.

They huddled in small groups, nibbling millet while eyeing the long-tailed newcomer with wary curiosity—he stood out like a jewel among pebbles.

Shen Jiujiu aped the avian greetings he’d gleaned from A Sa: he lifted one wing gently, baring the soft underfeathers of his belly to signal peace, then trilled a mellow, welcoming call from his beak.

“Chirp~”

【Hello, everyone~】