Pei Du had long since grown accustomed to the little bird tugging at the hem and sleeves of his robes as it hopped up and down. He naturally extended his hand to support Shen Jiujiu.
Shen Jiujiu whipped his head around and released Pei Du’s sleeve with a sharp “pthoo,” fixing him with an angry little glare.
Under that stare, Pei Du felt a rare flicker of unease. He explained in a low voice, “It’s just ordinary incense with a mild calming effect. It won’t harm the body.”
Only then did Shen Jiujiu fold his spread wings back against his sides.
The hand cradling the little bird was Pei Du’s right—the same one that had crushed the teacup earlier that day and gotten sliced open. It was now wrapped in bandages.
Shen Jiujiu shifted quietly, splaying his tiny claws to avoid the wrappings before settling near Pei Du’s wrist. He dipped his head and gently nuzzled the bandaged palm.
Pei Du’s lips curved faintly, his voice softening. “Just a scratch. It’s nothing.”
Shen Jiujiu huffed.
Even if he had to use some method to stay awake, why not just slice himself with a dagger?!
A teacup’s jagged edge was so blunt—it had to hurt more, leave a bigger gash, make him bleed worse. Who knew what porcelain shards might have lodged inside.
Deep down, Shen Jiujiu desperately wanted to ask if Pei Du’s method actually worked, if he truly understood what Shen Jiujiu was trying to say. But instinct stayed his beak.
He knew he couldn’t ask.
If Pei Du really got it, then…
No questions asked, no answers given. That silent understanding was safest.
But because they couldn’t communicate freely, Shen Jiujiu couldn’t pin all his hopes on Pei Du.
If Pei Du were truly confident, he’d reassure him. But he hadn’t.
Recalling how Pei Du had made him gesture twice before, Shen Jiujiu immediately connected it to the memories of Shen Xinian that had been wiped from his mind.
Could it be that Pei Du, too, had his memories erased after guessing at the plot—just like before?
That would explain the extreme measure the second time.
If so, the world consciousness that wiped Pei Du’s memory once could surely do it again.
Shen Jiujiu pecked lightly at Pei Du’s thumb with his beak. “Chirp.”
Don’t worry—Jiujiu’s here!
Maybe it was some little bird instinct kicking in, but staring at the knot in the bandage on Pei Du’s hand made Shen Jiujiu’s beak itch. He couldn’t help wanting to give it a couple of pecks.
And so Pei Du poured tea one-handed while watching Shen Jiujiu wrestle with the bandage on his other.
After a moment, Shen Jiujiu snapped out of it. As Pei Du set down the cup, he flared his wings to block the motion.
“Chirp chirp, chirp chirp?”
Drinking tea this late at night?
Not sleeping?
“Chirp chirp chirp?”
When are we going to bed?
Pei Du’s expression stiffened. “…Not yet.”
Shen Jiujiu saw right through the stall tactic. He let out a very human-sounding sigh, planting a claw in the web of Pei Du’s thumb and gently stroking his wrist with a wing.
“Chirp chirp, chirp chirp?”
You’re a grown man—how can you dodge seeing a doctor for something like this?
Pei Du didn’t catch the exact words, but he grasped the gist: “…”
He decided to lay his cards on the table and lay down a few ground rules for bed-sharing with the little bird.
The Little Bird Brush was back in the study, and Pei Du didn’t want Shen Jiujiu soiling his claws right before sleep. Instead, he poured another cup of tea and set the bird at its edge.
“Xinian, after all…” Pei Du paused, as if weighing his words carefully, then skipped the rest. “You and I shouldn’t get too close.”
Shen Jiujiu silently fanned out his neatly preened wings for Pei Du to see.
He was a little bird now—did proprieties even matter?
Sworn brotherhood might be all the rage in Great Zhou among common folk, but the emperor’s massive harem had no male consorts, to say nothing of noble houses.
Wait.
Benefactor doesn’t have a harem at all!
Shen Jiujiu reared back on his haunches, eyes widening in surprise at Pei Du.
Pei Du: “Whatever you’re thinking… never mind. I don’t want to know.”
He started to voice the question but caught the sly, knowing glint in the little bird’s eye midway. His lips thinned as he pinched the claw dipping toward the tea to write.
Shen Jiujiu blinked innocently.
It’s fine, it’s fine.
Liking men is just human nature.
But he was only a little male bird—did they really need to worry about impropriety?
Benefactor was taking this way too seriously.
Truth be told, Pei Du wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Shen Jiujiu.
Smart? Absolutely. Pei Du had never stopped him from eyeing the memorials and documents on his desk, and Shen Jiujiu scanned them with impressive speed. When he was in a good mood and saw Pei Du swamped, he’d even fetch and sort them by beak.
But smart people usually knew their place, kept their distance, guarded their pride.
Not Shen Jiujiu.
When it came to people, he was a master of wheedling and charm, living purely like the bird he appeared to be—whatever felt good in the moment, unburdened by human hang-ups or scholarly pride.
Birdlike… yet unmistakably human.
Sometimes, Pei Du genuinely struggled to pin him down.
So he cut the back-and-forth. “You sleep on the pillow. I’m not worried about you pecking me.”
Shen Jiujiu’s beak parted for a chirp, but Pei Du beat him to it. “You in my arms would worry me more.”
No need to elaborate.
Shen Jiujiu mulled it over. Fine, that worked.
If Benefactor couldn’t drop his prim facade, whatever.
For a little bird, anywhere was fine so long as he could snuggle.
With that, Shen Jiujiu nodded.
Pei Du exhaled in relief.
He might still get flapped awake, but at least he’d get some sleep tonight.
With the doctor-dodging crisis averted, Shen Jiujiu scraped a claw across the tabletop. The question gnawing at him all day bubbled back up, too stubborn to suppress.
Steeling himself, the little bird dipped into the tea and scrawled across the surface as fast as he could.
【If Shen Xinian comes to you…】
…would you really take him as your student?
Shen Jiujiu couldn’t bring himself to write the second half. He wasn’t even sure how to phrase it.
A freshly transmigrated Shen Xinian might brim with plot-fueled confidence, but Shen Jiujiu—who’d died and reborn as this bird—had none left to spare.
In terms of scholarship, he couldn’t hold a candle to Pei Du. When it came to fighting, well, there was no point even discussing it—he was nothing but a frail scholar. In scheming, he fell short of his stepmother Madam Zhou. And in cunning, he was no match for his younger brother Shen Yuan…
So, was it really possible for Pei Du to take someone like Shen Xinian as his student?
If Sui Ziming hadn’t brought it up, Shen Jiujiu would never have entertained the idea.
Yet Sui Ziming’s words were like the key to Pandora’s box. Once uttered, Shen Jiujiu found he couldn’t stop his mind from turning in that direction.
And so, he asked Pei Du about it.
Pei Du didn’t reply right away. He lowered his gaze, lost in thought for a moment, then extended his palm toward the little bird curled up on the desk, stealing glances at him every so often.
Shen Jiujiu nestled into Pei Du’s palm.
Cradling the little bird, Pei Du met Shen Jiujiu’s eyes directly.
“Yes.”
That single, utterly simple word burst like fireworks in the little bird’s mind.
His eyes flew wide open in an instant, his veins thrumming with excitement. He felt an overwhelming urge to flap his wings and soar around Pei Mansion a dozen times right then and there.
But Shen Jiujiu held himself back.
Of course, much of his restraint stemmed from his fear of heights—and the fact that he couldn’t fly anyway.
He tried his best to look composed, but his eager gaze kept darting toward Pei Du all the same.
So why “yes”?
Praise him a little.
Come on, just a bit~
Pei Du caught the hopeful glint in the little bird’s eyes and smiled faintly. “Do you really want to know why?”
Shen Jiujiu reined in his excitement a touch but nodded vigorously all the same.
He knew his benefactor wasn’t the type to deceive him, but what if he was just humoring the little bird?
“Xinian, do you understand what the bond between teacher and student truly means?”
Shen Jiujiu paused, pointing one wing at Pei Du, then jabbing the wingtip toward himself.
Pei Du nodded. “Indeed. To impart the Way, teach skills, and resolve doubts—that is a teacher’s duty.”
“But in the cutthroat world of the imperial court and officialdom today, it goes far beyond that.”
“My student must endure the relentless scrutiny of courtiers and scholars. He must shoulder the towering burden of aiding in governance. Above all, he must share my vision and ideals, never betray me, and—above everything—never become my weakness.”
In that moment, Pei Du’s demeanor shed its usual refined gentleness, taking on a sharper edge of cold authority, detached appraisal, and a subtle obsession woven into his very words.
“My student must belong to me completely.”
Yet which scholar worthy of Pei Du’s regard ever came without the weight of parental and familial expectations, or without entanglements in the interests of rival factions?
In a haze, Shen Jiujiu felt as if he had lifted a corner of the shroud, catching a glimpse of the abyss lurking beneath Pei Du’s composed exterior.
“Shen Xinian hails from the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion. His birth father holds a noble title, his birth mother comes from a wealthy Jiangnan merchant family, and his stepmother has longstanding ties to Prince Wu’s faction. His background is tangled and complex, yet held in precarious balance by mutual restraints.”
“Frail of body since childhood, he still claimed the top spot in the Imperial Examinations.”
Seeing the little bird’s face drift into a daze, Pei Du pressed on without pause, offering a frank analysis of precisely why he would accept Shen Xinian as a student.
“These are the bargaining chips that drew my attention.”
Bargaining chips…?
These could truly factor into Pei Du’s favor?
Weren’t they just burdens weighing him down?
Shen Jiujiu wondered dimly.
“But the crux of it lies in Shen Xinian himself: gifted and sharp-minded. The fame of the fifteen-year-old genius Jieyuan has already echoed through the Capital. No teacher could resist the prospect of molding a prodigy who might one day surpass him.”
“Frail, yet refusing self-pity, with unyielding backbone; so rigorously self-disciplined that ambition and grand designs must burn within him; excelling not only in scholarly pursuits and the Imperial Examinations but also in accounting and commerce, a sure sign of keen insight; estranged from the powers of his birth, yet ever grateful for kindness shown. Still young and impressionable, with ample room to guide and shape.”
“Given time, he will undoubtedly become a steadfast confidant and pillar of support.”
“Any one of these qualities—any great Confucian scholar from any faction, weighing the scales, would choose to take him on. The advantages vastly outweigh the risks.”
“And since arriving in the Capital, Shen Xinian has let slip several hints of our prior connection, naturally marking him as a scholar aligned with Pei Mansion. By sentiment, by logic, and for my own interests, he is the most fitting and exceptional student practically gift-wrapped at my door.”
Perhaps Shen Xinian himself had never realized it: the path he was best suited for was the very one Pei Du had mastered and ascended to its heights—the solitary road of the pure, unswerving loyal minister.
Pei Du watched the still-bewildered Shen Jiujiu, his lips curving in a subtle smile. He didn’t mind baring a sliver of his true nature before the little bird.
“So, yes. I will.”
