Chapter 30

Sui Ziming wasn’t wrong. In these times, any short-term business that could double your profits was usually some shady dealing—buying low and flipping high on the sly.

Shen Jiujiu clutched a strip of dried meat in his claws, pecking at it bit by bit with his beak while rummaging through his memories for something he could use.

Little Bird didn’t remember much, but Shen Xinian’s memories held a few obscure tidbits, and pulling them out now proved surprisingly interesting.

Take the blind box game, for instance.

Fifty taels of silver was no small sum, but as startup capital for a business, it was really nothing.

Blind boxes were perfect for it.

He could set up a stall in the West Market—one copper coin per draw, top prize a single tael of silver.

It would draw a crowd without being too flashy. By his estimates, if two thousand or more people took part each day, he’d net twenty taels in profit. He’d recoup his investment in ten days flat, never mind a full month.

And the best part? It was all about the novelty. Once Shen Jiujiu cashed in on the first wave, he’d pull the plug. Plenty of merchants would copy him after that, letting Little Bird rake in the cash under the Pei Mansion’s name while staying nicely in the shadows.

Shen Jiujiu tilted his head, tearing off a strip from the dried meat. His beak worked it into his mouth.

Business felt like second nature to him—like a skill he’d mastered long ago. Even without much of the relevant memory restored, he moved through it with total ease and confidence.

Truth be told, compared to studying, making money was twice the fun for Little Bird.

But…

Shen Jiujiu felt a bit thirsty. He set down the dried meat and plucked a plump, cool grape from nearby, pecking through the skin to peel it before scooping the flesh into his beak to moisten his throat.

Earning money was easy. The hard part was getting it out of the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion.

That silver had been swindled from Pei Du, leaving him with a silent loss. Whether it was the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion or Madam Zhou handling things at the mansion, they were under too much scrutiny right now to touch that stash of antique gold and silver.

What he needed was a solid leverage point—or better yet, the mansion’s weak spot.

Faces from the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion flashed through Little Bird’s mind one by one, but unfortunately, Shen Jiujiu’s memories of them were still hazy and indistinct.

The mansion now had Sui Ziming and A Sa added to the mix, but that didn’t stop Shen Jiujiu from tidying up his desk, wiping himself clean on a damp cloth, and heading back to the inner courtyard to sleep with his Benefactor.

The Pei Mansion had seen more and more visitors to the front courtyard lately. Shen Jiujiu figured his Benefactor—who had the Emperor and Empress Dowager in his pocket—was probably preparing to return to court.

By now, Little Bird had a decent read on his Benefactor’s temperament.

He was mild-mannered and polite, sure, but that sharp edge was impossible to hide. Pei Du might come off as gently smiling at home, with the occasional barbed quip, but outside, the Chief Minister was the sort to stand at the palace gates and trade barbs with the head eunuch.

On the day the Emperor had ambushed Sui Ziming and tried every trick to keep Pei Du in the palace—nearly causing disaster—Pei Du’s philosophy of doubling favors and quadrupling grudges meant he’d likely give that not-too-bright new emperor a run for his money.

…Not-too-bright was how Pei Du had put it himself, right to Little Bird’s face.

Clearly, whether Pei Du harbored any ambitions to seize the throne or not, this Emperor wasn’t someone he’d truly serve.

At best, he was a temporary boss to string along.

Since it had been ages since he’d last fiddled with an abacus, Shen Jiujiu got back to the inner courtyard a touch later that night than Pei Du, who was still tied up in the front.

Little Bird flitted across the courtyard, folding his wings and tumbling into the bedroom like a fluffy ball of down.

Pei Du had just loosened his outer robe but hadn’t fully removed it when he spun around, unfurling the garment to wrap up the incoming bird ball and catch him securely.

Shen Jiujiu poked his little bird head out from the gap in the robe. “Chirp chirp!”

Normally, Pei Du needed context to translate Chirp Language—forewarning or buildup. This sudden chirp left him stumped.

Pei Du fished Shen Jiujiu out of his robe and set him on the nearby clothes rack. “Care to demonstrate?”

Shen Jiujiu paced a couple steps on the rack to find his balance. Curiosity about the answer won out, so he gave Pei Du a show.

The winged puffball spun in a screw-like circle on the rack, then struck a martial arts pose—claws raised for a midair kick at empty air. He clenched his wingtips into fists and threw a few punches.

He whipped his head around to Pei Du, eyes shining bright.

So Benefactor knew martial arts too, right?

The kind even better than Sui Ziming’s!

A big bad who did big things had to be a master of both pen and sword—to stand up to golden-fingered Long Aotians!

Pei Du reached out to smooth the tips of Shen Jiujiu’s tucked wings, grasping them and giving a little shake up and down.

Then he smiled, let go, and turned to step behind the screen and finish changing.

Shen Jiujiu blinked in confusion. “Chirp?”

Hadn’t he gotten it?

That couldn’t be right.

A moment later, Pei Du emerged with his bound hair undone, casually scooping up Little Bird in his fresh inner robe. He walked to the bed and sat on the edge.

Shen Jiujiu was placed by the pillow. He cocked his head at Pei Du.

So, did Benefactor know martial arts or not?

Pei Du met Little Bird’s insistent stare and sighed helplessly. “I have no internal force. I’ve studied it a bit, but I’m nowhere near as skilled as Ziming.”

Pei Du’s answer was clear and direct, but Shen Jiujiu couldn’t shake the memory of that perfectly aimed kick that had sent a blade flying—or the smooth way he’d just caught the surprise bird-ball attack from behind. Something felt off.

Still, Shen Jiujiu didn’t press Pei Du on it.

Sui Ziming was holed up at the Pei Mansion recovering anyway. Worst case, he’d pump Ziming for some insider info over the next couple days.

It was late now. Sleep came first!

Pei Du had just lain down, eyes not yet closed as he settled into drowsiness, when Shen Jiujiu suddenly took flight from the pillow beside him. He landed lightly on Pei Du’s chest.

Pei Du’s brows twitched faintly.

This clearly broke their prior agreement.

One look at Pei Du’s expression told Shen Jiujiu exactly what Benefactor was thinking. He patted Pei Du’s chest reassuringly with a wing.

Little Bird would hop off after handling business. Promise!

He wasn’t the sort to sneak cheap thrills from Benefactor.

Standing on Pei Du’s chest, Shen Jiujiu pressed his wings together in front like hands in prayer, raising the tips high over his head. He bowed to Pei Du three times, utterly earnest.

Chirp chirp chirp chirp—he wished for a dream tonight, ideally one with memories of the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion.

The useful kind.

No matter what Pei Du’s actual personality was like, it didn’t stop the hardcore fan in Little Bird from seeing him as increasingly omnipotent—especially after Shen Jiujiu discovered that his dreams only happened when he slept pressed against Pei Du.

There was even a trend of treating Pei Du like Little Bird’s very own golden finger.

So—

Please, Benefactor!

Pei Du, who had been bowed to three times out of the blue while listening to Little Bird chirp on about who-knew-what: “…”

Having finished his prayer, Shen Jiujiu slid off Pei Du’s body and hopped into his own little pillow nest, spreading his wings against Pei Du’s cheek before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep in peace.

Pei Du: “…”

He tucked a cloth over Little Bird’s belly and closed his eyes.

Fine. Time to sleep.

Perhaps his devout wish really did work its magic. Shen Jiujiu, who hadn’t dreamed in ages, slipped into a long-lost dreamscape not long after closing his eyes.

And what he dreamed of was exactly what he’d wished for before falling asleep: the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion.

~~~

When Shen Xinian had first been brought back to the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion, both the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion and his stepmother, Madam Zhou, had been exceedingly kind and approachable.

Only his half-brother, who shared the same father but had a different mother and was only a little younger, had looked at Shen Xinian with undisguised disgust and rejection from start to finish.

Or perhaps, a touch of jealousy too.

The day the Glazed Lamp arrived at the mansion happened to be the spring equinox.

Shen Xinian stood under the corridor, draped in plain white fox fur, watching the servants carefully carry a wooden chest wrapped in brocade satin across the courtyard.

The spring breeze still carried a biting chill, and he couldn’t help but cough lightly a couple of times, a sickly flush rising on his pale cheeks.

“Young Master, the Marquis asks you to come to the main hall,” a page boy said respectfully with a bow.

Shen Xinian nodded, adjusted his collar, and headed toward the main hall.

Through Shen Xinian’s eyes, Shen Jiujiu took in the various furnishings of the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion.

They weren’t bad—in fact, they were overly lavish, coming across as a bit ostentatious.

Every display piece and garden feature was a priceless treasure.

Compared to the Duke Pei Mansion—which was also the home of a meritorious noble family with imperial favor—the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion inexplicably gave off the vibe of a parvenu desperately trying to keep up appearances.

Before he even stepped through the doors of the hall, Shen Xinian heard Shen Yuan’s excited voice: “Father, is this really the Glazed Lamp tribute from the Western Regions? They say it reflects seven colors of light under the moonlight!”

“Of course it’s real,” Zhenguo Marquis Shen Mingqian, replied proudly.. “This is a rare treasure. Only three made it to the Capital this time, and it wasn’t easy to obtain.”

The Glazed Lamp.

The kind he’d chipped as a child, only for his mother to repurpose it as his ink-rinsing bowl?

Well… whatever.

Shen Xinian paused for a moment, straightened his robes, and then crossed the threshold.

Inside the hall, his birth father, Zhenguo Marquis Shen Mingqian, sat at the head seat. Stepmother Madam Zhou sat to one side, while Shen Yuan was half-kneeling before an open brocade box, his eyes gleaming with fascination and delight.

Nestled quietly within the box was a vessel of flawless crystal, intricately carved with twining branch patterns on its body and shaped like a lotus on its base. Under the sunlight, it refracted a dreamlike shimmer.

It was beautiful, sure—but Shen Xinian, who had grown up surrounded by glass beads and windows, felt barely a ripple of interest.

“Xinian is here,” Shen Mingqian said, his face lighting up with a smile at the sight of his eldest son. “Come take a look. What do you think of this Glazed Lamp?”

Shen Xinian stepped forward and bowed, letting his gaze linger on the lamp for a moment before forcing out a compliment: “It truly is a one-of-a-kind treasure.”

At those words, Shen Yuan looked up, the eagerness in his eyes instantly cooling into blatant hostility.

Shen Jiujiu observed Shen Yuan closely.

Shen Yuan was only a year younger than Shen Xinian, but he already towered a head above his frail, sickly brother. His posture was upright and proud.

If one had to compare, Shen Yuan—with his sturdy build and the perpetual air of exhaustion that never quite left Shen Xinian’s face—did indeed seem more like the refined young nobleman the Capital would produce.

“Father,” Shen Yuan spoke up first, “if this Glazed Lamp were placed in my room, it would surely…”

“Xinian.” Shen Mingqian cut off his youngest son and called warmly to his eldest. “You grew up in Jiangnan, so you must appreciate fine things like this more. The Glazed Lamp is yours.”

Silence fell over the hall in an instant.

Shen Yuan shot to his feet, his face draining of color.

The teacup in Madam Zhou’s hand trembled slightly, a few drops spilling onto her skirt.

Only Shen Xinian’s expression remained unchanged, though a flicker of puzzlement passed through his eyes.

“Father…” Shen Yuan’s voice quavered.

Shen Mingqian acted as if he hadn’t heard, personally closing the brocade box and handing it to Shen Xinian with a kindly, gentle look. “Your health is fragile, and they say this Glazed Lamp helps calm the mind and spirit. Keeping it by your pillow might ease your cough.”

Shen Xinian didn’t take it right away. Instead, he glanced at Shen Yuan.

Rage and resentment burned in Shen Yuan’s eyes, his hands clenched into fists, knuckles white.

Shen Jiujiu understood now. No matter what rejection or jealousy Shen Yuan had felt toward Shen Xinian before, from this moment on, it was nothing but pure, thorn-in-the-flesh hatred.

“Thank you for your kind intentions, Father.”

Shen Xinian finally accepted the box, all the while feeling Shen Yuan’s gaze boring into him like a knife.

Shen Mingqian nodded in satisfaction, then abruptly changed the subject: “Xinian, your mother has been missing for a long time now, but those merchant routes she left in Jiangnan… are they still running?”

Shen Xinian’s lips pressed into a thin line as he finally grasped the true purpose behind this “generous gift.” Any faint ripples in his heart smoothed over instantly.

“Yes, Father. They are still operating.”

“Excellent, excellent.” Shen Mingqian’s smile deepened. “As you know, the mansion’s expenses are enormous these days, and money is often tight. Now that you’re back, it’s time those businesses started supporting the household.”

He patted his eldest son’s shoulder meaningfully. “After all, this marquisate and title will be yours one day.”

The words landed like a thunderbolt in the hall.

Shen Yuan stared at his father in disbelief.

He had been raised as the heir apparent from childhood, with everyone in the mansion assuming he would be the next Zhenguo Marquis.

And now, his father was promising the title to his brother, who had only just returned?

The legitimate son… the legitimate son?

But his own mother had been properly married in as the principal wife!

Compared to Shen Xinian’s lowborn merchant mother, his mother was a lady from a noble family!

How was he any less than Shen Xinian?!

Madam Zhou hurriedly stood to smooth things over. “My lord, the boys are still young. It’s too early to talk of such things…”

“Not early at all.” Shen Mingqian waved her off, his smile growing even warmer. “Xinian is the youngest Jieyuan in the Great Zhou Dynasty’s Imperial Examinations. If he places high next year and earns an official post in the Palace Examination, it’s only right he starts shouldering some family responsibilities.”

Shen Xinian’s grip tightened slightly on the brocade box.

Knowing he was in a dream and merely observing this memory, Shen Jiujiu turned his gaze toward Shen Yuan.

The emotions in his younger brother’s eyes had shifted from anger to something far more terrifying—a bone-deep hatred mingled with the fear of losing something precious.

~~~

The next morning, Pei Du hadn’t fully woken when he felt an intense gaze burning on his face.

After steeling himself slightly, he opened his eyes and met the gaze of an inexplicably docile Little Bird Dumpling, its clear eyes brimming with fawning eagerness.

Lord Pei sat up, halting the Little Bird Dumpling’s continued attempts at whatever it was trying to do, and asked bluntly, “What do you want?”

Shen Jiujiu spun around, retrieved a small note he’d hidden in his tail feathers with his beak, and shoved it into Pei Du’s hand, his eyes full of hopeful expectation.

Pei Du examined the note in his hand.

Its edges weren’t smoothly sliced by a paper knife but looked more like fruit rind gnawed by a bird’s beak—fine, neatly arrayed curves.

He’d even prepared the note in advance, which meant Shen Jiujiu had clearly been plotting this for some time.

—At least since that morning.

But it was only a request to visit the storeroom for something impressive to use in the gamble. Nothing major.

The bet’s stake was fifty taels of silver, but providing the little bird with a bit of extra help was hardly an issue.

“Very well.” Pei Du slipped the note into his palm with no intention of handing it back to Shen Jiujiu. “I’ll have a servant take you there shortly.”