Chapter 32

“What do you mean,” Pei Du said as he set down his brush, his gaze sweeping over Jia Shisan, who was kneeling off to the side, “by ‘Jiujiu is missing’?”

Sui Ziming, who had been scribbling away at his self-reflection book nearby, frowned and looked up.

“I was escorting Jiujiu—Young Master Shen—to the West Market,” Jia Shisan explained. “The crowd around that stall surged forward, and Young Master Shen climbed to a higher spot.”

Jia Shisan’s boyish face was taut with tension, his Adam’s apple bobbing as nerves got the better of him.

“By the time I noticed, Young Master Shen was gone.”

“Didn’t you hear him calling out?” Pei Du asked.

Jia Shisan was firm. “There were a lot of people around, but I’m certain I didn’t hear a thing.”

It was his job to protect Shen Jiujiu, so he had kept one ear cocked toward him the entire time.

But Shen Jiujiu’s wings were small and his flights quiet at the best of times, and amid the din of the bustling market, it had slipped past Jia Shisan for a moment.

If the little bird had been snatched, any struggle or cry from Shen Jiujiu—or even the scuffle of the capture—would have tipped Jia Shisan off. He wouldn’t have been caught so flat-footed.

Pei Du tapped the desk lightly with his finger. “How long has it been?”

Jia Shisan lowered his eyes, guilt etched on his face. “At least… an hour.”

He had clearly searched high and low already, only coming to Pei Du after confirming that Shen Jiujiu wasn’t tucked away somewhere for a quiet breather.

Pei Du said nothing, simply raising a hand to dismiss him.

Sui Ziming drew in a deep breath. “Finding one little bird dumpling in this massive Capital won’t be easy.”

Pei Du didn’t reply. His tapping slowed, then stopped altogether.

One look at Pei Du’s face told Sui Ziming he’d already decided on a course of action.

He couldn’t hold back. “…You’re not planning to spread the word that Jiujiu is your bird, are you?”

It was the fastest, most effective way to track down Shen Jiujiu’s whereabouts—but it all hinged on who found him. Someone who respected Pei Du might turn it into a simple exchange. But anyone gunning for Pei Du could twist the fact that Shen Jiujiu was an imperial gift, leaving him impossible to defend.

Sui Ziming wished now that the sparrow legion back at his place could actually be commanded.

Having the little sparrows tear the Capital apart from top to bottom wouldn’t be hard for them. They could worm into every crack and crevice.

“If only I’d gone out with him during the day!”

Sui Ziming shot to his feet and crossed to Shen Jiujiu’s little desk in a few strides, rummaging through the drawers.

Pei Du watched him nearly disassemble Shen Jiujiu’s prized abacus to take it along and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What are you doing?”

“I’m grabbing something Jiujiu uses all the time for A Sa to sniff,” Sui Ziming said, still digging. “A Sa hasn’t been trained for tracking or messages, but birds are like dogs, right? They should be able to find their person.”

“Don’t touch Jiujiu’s abacus.”

Sui Ziming hadn’t intended to take the abacus anyway—it wasn’t practical to carry around for constant sniffing.

He fished a soft handkerchief from a drawer instead.

“…Put the handkerchief down,” Pei Du said.

“Why? It’s perfect. Nice and practical.”

Sui Ziming hadn’t realized it had something wrapped inside. He gave it a shake, and out tumbled pine nuts and peanuts, scattering across the floor and rolling into every corner of the study.

Uh…

Pei Du sighed. “Those are Jiujiu’s secret snacks. You can explain it to him yourself later.”

Shen Jiujiu, bird that he was, loved cracking seeds and nuts. But when he was deep in thought—writing policy essays or working the abacus—he preferred eating them pre-shelled, without the crunch to break his focus. He’d wheedled Pei Du into shelling a little packet just for those moments.

Sui Ziming froze, then hastily repackaged the handkerchief and shoved it back where it belonged, acting as if nothing had happened. He turned to Pei Du. “How are you not worried?”

Pei Du glanced up at him. “He only looks like a bird.”

Sui Ziming blinked. “…Huh?”

“When you head out,” Pei Du said evenly, “do I send someone to trail you with a leash around your neck?”

“Why would you leash me?” Sui Ziming shot back, baffled. “I come back on my own.”

The words had barely left his mouth before understanding dawned.

Oh. Right.

Shen Jiujiu had flown off under his own power. No sack over the head, no abduction.

So no matter the reason he’d left, he’d handle his business and fly right back.

After all, he wasn’t truly just some little bird.

Sui Ziming sighed inwardly. The problem was how impossibly cute that little bird dumpling acted all the time. Even when he was coquettish or throwing a tantrum, there was no trace of human self-consciousness. Sui Ziming knew on some level that Shen Jiujiu was a person, but he couldn’t help treating him like an adorable fluffball to dote on.

He swiftly straightened the desk he’d messed up, then slunk back to his chair and muttered, “Then what was with that heavy thinking face earlier? I thought you were mulling over some world-ending crisis.”

Pei Du changed the subject. “Still no word from the ones tracking Madam Xie?”

“None.” Sui Ziming’s brief lightness evaporated. “She vanished on Canal Gang turf, supposedly making off with something crucial. No one’s laid eyes on her since.”

“You took out a Jiangning Provincial Administration Commissioner back then. Prince Wu installed a replacement, but they’ve kept a low profile ever since.”

“Even so, the Canal Gang and the authorities have eyes on Xie Mansion—overt and covert—watching everyone coming and going. No letup.”

“The Zhenguo Marquis Mansion wanted to gobble up Xie Family trade routes at first. But by some stroke of luck, it yanked Jiujiu out from under Prince Wu’s watchful eye.”

“Stroke of luck?” Pei Du echoed, his eyes darkening.

What strokes of luck were there in this world?

Far more often, it was all calculated moves and deep-laid plots.

“You bring this up out of nowhere…” Sui Ziming wasn’t the sharpest in every moment, but he caught on quick enough. “Don’t tell me you suspect Madam Xie is in the Capital?”

Shen Jiujiu hadn’t batted an eye at the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion, after all.

Even seeing Shen Yuan up close had only prompted him to grind his claws on Sui Ziming’s head.

What could make the current Shen Jiujiu drop everything, ignore all courtesies, and fly off without a word?

Only Xie Jingtang.

Pei Du thought for a moment. “In a few days, the envoys from the Yueshi Hu Kingdom in the Western Regions will arrive in the capital. Keep a close eye on everyone in their delegation.”

“Understood,” Sui Ziming replied.

~~~

As evening fell, wrapped in the day’s somewhat subdued sunset glow, Shen Jiujiu—worn out from a long day—fluttered wearily over the gate of Pei Mansion.

Gliding past the front hall, Little Bird’s sharp eyes caught sight of Pei Du seated inside. His wings, bound for the back courtyard, swerved mid-flight, sending him soaring straight toward Pei Du instead.

Pei Du held out his hands and caught the warm, fluffy little dirty bird securely.

“Chirp.”

Shen Jiujiu slumped into Pei Du’s palm, letting out a feeble chirp. His tiny claws were tucked away, and his long tail feathers hung limp and lackluster, a far cry from their usual vibrancy.

The pad of Pei Du’s thumb gently massaged the back of Shen Jiujiu’s head. In a soft, soothing voice, he asked, “What happened?”

Too exhausted to gesture, Shen Jiujiu twisted his head this way and that, searching for something to write on—some tea, perhaps, or water.

But Pei Du cradled the soft, warm ball of feathers, gently parting Shen Jiujiu’s wings and stroking him with a fingertip. “No need to write. I understand.”

Indeed, Pei Du had never truly listened to Chirp Language. He saw it.

For one thing, Shen Jiujiu never bothered hiding his thoughts; everything was on open display.

For another, this little bird ball’s expressions and gestures were far more vivid and lifelike than any human’s could be.

Pei Du’s mastery of Chirp Language—level ten, no less—held absolute authority over Shen Jiujiu.

Nestling into a cozy spot in Pei Du’s palm, Shen Jiujiu stretched out his neck and rested his head between Pei Du’s wrists. His beak opened and closed. “Chirp chirp chirp.”

Trust was trust, however. Just as Shen Jiujiu pondered how best to convey the word “mother,” Pei Du spoke up. “You saw Madam Xie?”

Shen Jiujiu’s eyes flew wide. He sprang upward in a startled flutter, nearly launching himself from Pei Du’s hand—only for Pei Du to block him with swift reflexes.

This went beyond fluency in Chirp Language. It was mind reading!

In his shock, Shen Jiujiu met Pei Du’s dark eyes and glimpsed faint threads of amusement amid the calm.

“Xinian,” Pei Du said, “seeing through people’s hearts isn’t as difficult as you imagine. It’s no rare gift.”

He paused, thinking of a certain someone, then added cautiously, “Except for Ziming.”

Shen Jiujiu burst into chirps of laughter at the unexpected remark, his beak agape as a string of delighted “chirp chirp yips” spilled out. His eyes curved into little crescent moons.

“Chirp chirp chirp chirp. Chirp chirp chirp chirp~”

Actually, Ziming was plenty smart.

Pei Du smiled as well. “He’s a general. To use his own words, a general’s mind is for arraying troops and devising strategies. Overthink it, and your spear goes dull.”

A general bound by hesitation wasn’t Sui Ziming’s style. What he craved was a spear that pierced all defenses, unstoppable.

Too keen an awareness of himself, the capital’s intrigues, the tangled webs of human hearts and power—for Sui Ziming, that wasn’t wisdom. It was a quagmire.

Sometimes, profound intelligence masked itself as simplicity, and that was the greater treasure.

Shen Jiujiu nodded vigorously in agreement, bobbing his little bird head.

“You see?” Pei Du continued. “That’s what people are like. I understand Ziming and his ambitions. I indulge his straightforward ways and shield him from every plot and scheme aimed his way. In return, he gives me that unyielding spear.”

With seamless grace, Pei Du shifted from the example to the heart of the matter. “So, Xinian, when I truly understand you, it doesn’t matter if you’re chirping away. I still know exactly what you mean.”

Shen Jiujiu blinked, caught off guard by how the conversation had turned to him.

Was class in session already?

“Chirp chirp!”

Right!

Ever the picture of reverence for his teacher, the little bird settled back into Benefactor Teacher’s palm. But where he’d previously sprawled with his head dangling lazily, now he sat bolt upright for the lesson—wings neatly folded behind him, the perfect picture of a sesame rice-ball bird.

Pei Du stifled a chuckle. “No need to be so formal. If you’re tired, just rest your head.”

Shen Jiujiu shot his benefactor a look of firm disapproval.

Lolling about during a lesson? Perish the thought!

Pei Du’s eyebrow quirked. He extended an olive branch the little bird couldn’t refuse. “Doesn’t a proper lesson call for freshening up? Shall we bathe first?”

Shen Jiujiu glanced down at his grubby feathers and felt his resolve waver.

After spotting that familiar silhouette in the market—the one so like his mother—he’d given immediate chase.

The market teemed with people, and the figure seemed to be dodging pursuit, weaving through crushingly dense crowds or twisting down narrow alleys. Fortunately, Shen Jiujiu could take to the skies. Flapping furiously, he’d managed to tail her from afar.

The trail led from West Market to a rundown courtyard on the city’s outskirts. Just as Shen Jiujiu mustered the nerve to dart ahead for a closer look, the figure slipped inside—and vanished.

Shen Jiujiu barreled in after her, only to find the place deserted. It looked long abandoned, decrepit and crumbling in every corner.

Little Bird scoured the area, poking into every nook, even hunkering down to wait. Dusk had deepened by the time he grudgingly admitted defeat: he’d lost her.

Bush-diving, forest-tramping, and hours of rummaging through that forsaken yard had transformed his once-pristine, fluffy bird ball into a thoroughly dust-caked mess.

Pei Du summoned a basin of warm water. He set the little bird on the table, rolled up his sleeves, and soaked a cotton cloth.

Shen Jiujiu’s eyes went round as saucers.

What in the world?

Benefactor intended to… personally… bathe the little bird?!

The Court Prime Minister himself, washing a bird.

Even the Emperor never got treatment like this.

Shen Jiujiu shuffled closer, fidgeting. He rubbed his cheek against the back of Pei Du’s hand, hesitating as he glanced up.

“Mmm.”

Pei Du wrung out the warm cloth.

“I’ll tend to Jiujiu’s bath.”

“So… you’re not angry about the woodware shop anymore, all right?”

Shen Jiujiu: “?”

So much had happened that day that the woodware shop had slipped his mind entirely. Now Pei Du mentioned it, and Shen Jiujiu’s tail feathers bristled in instant fury.

You—dare bring that up?!

He opened his beak to vent, only for a warm cloth to envelop him. Gentle strokes worked through his feathers, kneading the faint ache from his overworked wings.

“Chirp…”

I…

A bit to the left.

Yes, yes, just like that. Pinch a little.

Shen Jiujiu, who had originally planned to give his benefactor a fierce glare, gradually softened bit by bit. Before long, he melted into a limp puddle of bird pancake in Pei Du’s hands.

What was Little Bird about to do just now?

Never mind.

Woo, so~ com~ for~ ta~ ble~

Once Little Bird had been coaxed into a boneless heap and the tension in the air eased, Pei Du picked up where they’d left off. “Xinian, these days, the person who understands Madam Xie best—aside from herself—is you. You’ve been by her side since childhood, absorbing her every word and deed.”

A warm cloth glided gently over Little Bird’s back. Every so often, Pei Du would use his fingertips, through the fabric, to scratch with meticulous patience at the spots that itched.

“If what you saw at the West Market today truly was Madam Xie, then after your failed attempt to tail her, what should you have considered next?”

Under Pei Du’s tender ministrations, Shen Jiujiu struggled to pry open one little bird eye. “Chirp chirp chirp?”

Guessing where Mother might go next?

Pei Du couldn’t quite make out the specifics of Shen Jiujiu’s chirps, but the tone told him it wasn’t the optimal answer.

“What she’s doing in the Capital.”

Shen Jiujiu went blank for a moment.

Oh, right…

Because of the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion and everything that had happened before, his mother actually had a deep aversion to the Capital.

Pei Du spoke candidly. “Xinian, I sent people to look into some matters in Jinling.”

Shen Jiujiu craned his neck upward. “Chirp?”

Little Bird didn’t mind at all. In fact, he was super curious.

Pei Du lifted one of Little Bird’s wings and wiped carefully at the base. “Word has it that Madam Xie possesses something extremely important. The Canal Gang’s water transport operations and the Jiangnan authorities have both had their eyes on the Xie Family. She’s been in hiding ever since she vanished—no doubt evading Prince Wu’s spies.”

Shen Jiujiu pondered this.

In that case, his mother had even less reason to come to the Capital.

The Xie Family’s trade routes extended far beyond the south. Every year, the rarest tributes from the Western Regions would arrive in Jincheng, and the Xie Family always managed to secure exclusive sources, auctioning them off at exorbitant prices.

It was no exaggeration to say they raked in gold by the barrel every day.

Otherwise, Shen Mingqian wouldn’t have been so covetous, scheming as he did—even willing to promise the position of heir to Shen Xinian.

So…

The flattened bird pancake curled at the edges, then flipped belly-up. It raised its damp, feathered wings and pointed at itself.

Was Mother here in the Capital because of him?

“Yes.”

Pei Du sometimes veered off-topic without answering directly, but whenever he gave a straightforward reply, it was never vague or hedged.

“Xinian, she’s come to find you.”

The moment Xie Jingtang learned of Shen Xinian’s situation, no matter where she was or what perils she faced, she would rush to his side without hesitation.

She was the mother who loved him most in the world. How could she abandon him to his fate?

She hadn’t been late. She was simply too far away to outpace the conspiracies that had already struck her child.

Shen Jiujiu lifted his wings to cover his cheeks. A long while passed before he let out a muffled “Whimper chirp.”

“Whatever it is that Madam Xie holds, Prince Wu clearly fears it enough to tread carefully.”

Pei Du finished cleaning Little Bird’s talons, then swapped the cloth for a dry one to pat him down.

“If the situations were reversed and you wanted to enter the Capital while making Prince Wu’s forces hesitate to act, the best opportunity—and choice—would be to slip in with the Western Regions Envoy Group in a few days’ time.”

“The envoy group’s purpose this visit is unclear. If the Dark Guards probe too aggressively, it could alert them and strain relations between our nations.”

Shen Jiujiu’s eyes lit up like stars.

The Western Regions Envoy Group was indeed tricky to investigate, but—

Shen Jiujiu was a bird. One that could fly!

The perfect sort: silent, utterly harmless, and above suspicion. An ideal little spy!

Who said you couldn’t raise a spy bird?

Spy birds were incredibly useful!

The wilted Little Bird Dumpling, deflated from failing to find his mother, sprang back to full vigor in an instant. His half-dry feathers bristled as he paced back and forth across the table, plotting how best to play the role of spy bird.

Mid-thought, Shen Jiujiu suddenly shot Pei Du a suspicious glance.

Why did today’s benefactor feel even gentler and more indulgent than usual?

And so… proactive, too.

He’d admitted his mistake and started pampering Little Bird before any scolding could even begin!

Something was off.

Shen Jiujiu raised one wing and draped it over Pei Du’s hand, his little chirp-face deadly serious.

“Chirp chirp chirp? Chirp chirp chirp?”

Out with it. Jiujiu was ready.

Had he bullied Little Bird with something else on top of everything?

“There’s nothing else.”

Meeting those suspicious little black-bean eyes, Pei Du gently pinched the tip of Little Bird’s wing in return. Amusement bloomed in his gaze, softening even the peaks of his brows.

The deep, inky shadows that usually pooled in his eyes now sparkled with flecks of light.

Candlelight from either side fell across half his face, lending that smile an air of profound sincerity.

“I just suddenly realized that Little Bird could fly away at any moment.”

The speaker meant nothing by it, but to the listener, it landed like a thunderbolt.

In that instant, Shen Jiujiu stared blankly at Pei Du. His little bird heart thundered in his chest, his mind erupting in fireworks all screaming “Benefactor smells so good.”

He’d never been in love himself, never tasted the pork, but he’d watched plenty of romance pigs trotting by.

He knew what a racing heart felt like.

Shen Jiujiu yanked his wing free from Pei Du’s fingers and whipped around, curling into a tight, meltdown ball of a bird, utterly withdrawn.

He… wasn’t straight?

He was a little gay bird?

Was this right?

No, this couldn’t be right!

There was a difference between humans and birds!!