Chapter 47

After dinner, Xie Jingtang took up temporary residence in the Pei Mansion, though in a guest courtyard at some remove. This arrangement allowed both her and the household a measure of ease.

Shen Jiujiu clung to Pei Du’s lapel, his chirpy little face lost in thought as he followed Pei Du back to the rear courtyard.

Pei Du plucked the bird dumpling from his clothes and set it gently aside, sneaking in a pinch as his fingers withdrew.

Shen Jiujiu folded his wings and gazed up at Pei Du as he shed his outer robe. “Chirp chirp chirp chirp…”

Benefactor’s words from before…

Setting aside certain past events they had yet to discuss, Shen Jiujiu already understood Pei Du well.

Pei Du never explained his actions, nor sought permission from others.

The rare exceptions came only when Shen Jiujiu signaled his confusion, prompting a terse clarification.

Yet before dinner, the Benefactor had consulted Little Bird’s mother, revealing ahead of time his plan to demand Shen Xinian from the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion.

This was utterly out of character.

Pei Du prodded the little bird dumpling, spinning it about before reverting to his cryptic self. “Figure it out yourself.”

Shen Jiujiu turned his back to the Benefactor, listening to the rustle of clothing behind him. The little bird let out a sigh.

Little Bird was clever enough, but sorely lacking in the subtleties of human relations.

Such was the lingering mark of a life spent avoiding close contact with others.

Pei Du draped his robe over the nearby rack, his gaze drifting over the little bird dumpling, its tail feathers twitching this way and that. His eyes darkened.

A parent’s love for their child runs deep in its designs.

Xie Jingtang could give Shen Xinian much, but one thing she could neither teach nor bestow: the confidence and arrogance born of power and influence.

That was a luxury reserved for true scions of noble houses and imperial blood.

But Pei Du could provide it.

Whatever Jiujiu and Madam Xie had discussed to secure her temporary consent for him to remain in the Pei Mansion, the excuse likely stemmed from Jiujiu’s own evident fondness.

The reunion after life and death had left Madam Xie’s emotions in turmoil; for now, she would indulge her lost-and-found treasure without reservation.

Yet mother and son shared a bond of flesh and blood, heart to heart. In time, she would chafe at the thought of Jiujiu lingering here for treatment.

Unless…

She could plainly see that Jiujiu stood to gain far greater advantages in the Pei Mansion than at her side.

The possibilities Pei Du had foreseen for Xinian’s future—adventures and fortunes yet to come—Xie Jingtang, who cherished Shen Xinian no less, had doubtless considered as well.

The world brimmed with clever minds, yet how many roamed it freely?

Shen Xinian, nurtured with care by Xie Jingtang, already possessed a keen eye for business, profit, and silver. By her side, Jiujiu could learn and claim no more than that.

But with Pei Du, Shen Jiujiu would brush against noble houses, courtly strife, the nurture of power—things Xie Jingtang could never offer, the haughty assurance due a young master of his station.

The noble bearing that flowered only from the certainty of an unbreakable foundation.

A mother gave her beloved child nothing less than the world’s finest.

And Pei Du was that finest choice.

Shen Jiujiu was still wracking his brains when Pei Du, now in his inner robes, shook the bell to summon the maidservants for his evening wash.

The little bird, quick on the uptake, fluttered to the copper basin’s edge and perched there, awaiting his grooming from the Benefactor.

As Shen Jiujiu’s time in the Pei Mansion lengthened, so too did bespoke items for a pocket-sized bird appear.

Such as the small cloth now in Pei Du’s hand.

He wiped the bird’s claws with care, then switched cloths to groom the fluffy form from head to tail.

The little bird had been out flying daily of late, gathering dust aplenty, but his downy fluff and sleek feathers took to wiping well enough—no daily baths required.

Fresh and sweetly scented now, the little bird unfurled his wings and dove onto the bed, burrowing beneath the covers. A lump wriggled upward like a chrysalis, until a spiky furball head poked from the quilt’s edge. Then he bounced onto the pillow.

After some playful tumbling across the bed, Shen Jiujiu sprawled at the edge, craning to watch Pei Du’s unhurried ablutions.

“Chirp chirp chirp chirp!”

Pei Du replied with unruffled calm. “No hurrying me. Whose wing feathers were caked in rolling dust?”

Lord Pei was picking stray bird down from his cloth.

Abashed, Shen Jiujiu ducked his head. The tiny furball hopped about the bed, deliberately drawing the bed curtains and tucking himself in tight.

With attendants dismissed, Pei Du approached the bed and tapped the frame obligingly. “Young Master Chirp? Asleep already?”

Young Master Chirp peeked shyly from the curtain’s gap.

A smile curved Pei Du’s lips.

Young Master Chirp hooked the fabric with a claw and flapped his wings to fling it open. “Chirp chirp~”

I’ve warmed the bed for you~

The little bird dumpling’s expression was so transparent that Pei Du at once recalled the daytime talk of “warming the bed.” Helpless, he rubbed his temple.

“Don’t use words like ‘warming the bed’ anymore.”

Too flippant, too intimate by half.

The bird himself brushed it off, nodding chirpily as if it sailed in one ear and out the other.

Got it, got it.

Little Bird would warm the bed tomorrow too!

Shen Jiujiu patted the quilt with a wing. “Chirp chirp chirp chirp, chirp chirp~”

Never mind that—come to bed~

~~~

The next day, Pei Du instructed Zhong Bo to visit the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion, announcing it right in front of Shen Jiujiu.

Shen Jiujiu blinked and cocked his head.

Just… like this?

No preamble, straight to demanding it outright?

Pei Du sipped his tea, eyes downcast. “Mm. Outright.”

“Xinian, remember this.”

“Before absolute power, no need for empty reassurances.”

“The fewer words spoken, the greater the intimidation—the other side fears more, yields more.”

The little bird, innocent of such crushing authority, paced Pei Du’s wrist. “Chirp chirp chirp chirp?”

What if we needed their help someday?

What if… they rose to power later?

Wouldn’t this shatter all bridges?

In two lifetimes, Little Bird had learned kindness and grudge-free ways; this ruthless tack sat poorly with him.

Pei Du raised an eyebrow, tapping a finger on Shen Jiujiu’s little head. “If you were the one in power, treating others kindly wouldn’t be a favor—it would be humbling yourself. Endless indulgence and lax rule over those beneath you would only let dangerous ambitions take root.”

“Granting favors is, of course, necessary.”

It was a way to win loyalty.

“But only after you’ve beaten them down and brought them to heel.”

The little bird pondered.

The little bird digested.

Little Bird loading…

“Xinian, suppose you were head of the Xie Family, and I sent Zhong Bo to your door.”

“If Zhong Bo first presented a calling card, speaking politely and hinting at the treasure he wanted—what would you do?”

Shen Jiujiu didn’t hesitate. “Chirp chirp chirp!”

He’d hand it over!

How could the Xie Family afford to cross Great Official Pei? Better to give it up and be done with it.

Maybe it’d even create some goodwill for a rainy day.

Pei Du’s lips curved faintly. Then he shifted gears. “But what if Zhong Bo showed up unannounced, cold and curt, demanding you surrender a certain item outright?”

Shen Jiujiu’s claws clenched on instinct, accidentally scoring a faint white line across the back of Pei Du’s hand. He ducked his head at once, rubbing his cheek against it in fervent apology.

Then he followed Benefactor’s lead and thought it through.

Shen Xinian had grown up at Xie Jingtang’s side. Even in private, her business savvy and way with people had seeped into him by osmosis.

“Chirp… chirp chirp chirp.”

He wouldn’t just hand it over—he’d agonize over whether he’d somehow slighted the bigwig.

He’d tap every connection he had for intel, lose sleep over it, then at the perfect moment dispatch even finer treasures to the offended party’s estate as atonement.

Shen Jiujiu fell quiet after reaching that conclusion.

The little bird felt his left brain duking it out with his right.

He’d grown up in a world that preached equality for all, schooled from childhood in the idea that everyone stood the same. Transmigrating into this book had taken him ages to stomach the very existence of servants and maids in the household, and even now he couldn’t relax into being waited on—anything he could do himself, he did.

Never mind Benefactor’s current lesson in “ruthless authority.”

Pei Du wasn’t pressing. Some shifts took time to settle.

His fingers scratched lightly at the little bird’s neck. “Breakfast includes yellow bud greens. Want some?”

Yellow bud greens were just baby bok choy, but oh, so tender.

What they’d prepared for the little bird was plain boiled, no seasonings at all, and cooled to boot. For a creature who seldom tasted properly cooked food, though, it might as well have been an indulgence.

Shen Jiujiu craned his neck up. “Chirp!”

Yes!!

…

When the National Duke Mansion came calling for Shen Xinian, Shen Mingqian swallowed his bewilderment and reluctance. Tail between his legs, he handed the boy over.

Zhong Bo shot down Shen Mingqian’s bid to deliver him personally and pay a visit to the Prime Minister. Cold and unyielding, he simply whisked Shen Xinian straight out of the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion.

Evidently to coax Xie Jingtang into paying whatever price without a fight, Shen Mingqian had spared no expense preserving the body.

Xie Jingtang arrived in a rush at the news. Seeing Shen Xinian lying still in the coffin—even knowing Jiujiu existed—still tore tears from her.

Sui Ziming stole a distant glance, lips thinning. He kept his distance.

No one knew better than he did what it felt like to behold a loved one’s corpse.

Jiujiu or no Jiujiu, a loss like that couldn’t be undone.

Zhong Bo cleared the front hall servants.

Shen Jiujiu, who’d been perched on Pei Du’s shoulder, fluttered down into the coffin.

The little bird gazed in silence at his former self: eyes shut tight, skin ashen and pale, white frost riming his brows and hairline.

How many people ever got to see their own dead body?

It was an uncanny sensation.

Utterly… peculiar.

Shen Jiujiu leaned close, giving Shen Xinian’s lips a gentle peck.

Cold. Stiff.

A scalding tear welled in Shen Jiujiu’s eye and trickled down, searing his feathers before splashing beside Shen Xinian’s cheek in tiny droplets.

The little bird flew to his mother’s side. He fanned his wings, one stroke after another, to soothe Xie Jingtang’s unraveling. His beak nipped tenderly at her tears; his fluffy wing feathers dabbed them away with endless patience.

“Chirp chirp. Chirp chirp chirp.”

Mother, don’t cry. Jiujiu’s here.

Jiujiu’s right here.

Xie Jingtang wept without a sound, tears spilling in a steady stream from her eyes. Her frame shook; her gaze boiled with hatred.

One day…

One day!

The little bird gave a soft sigh. He wiped at his mother’s tears even as he could no longer dodge the thoughts he’d been suppressing. He stole a glance at Pei Du, standing across the coffin.

Pei Du hadn’t uttered a word the whole time.

He simply stood there, gaze lowered to the still form of Shen Xinian.

Shen Jiujiu teetered on the coffin’s edge, fidgeting his wings.

What to say… Ah.

Shen Xinian hadn’t been the picture of health—always coughing, lacking that youthful spark—but he’d been handsome all the same.

When he smiled, a dimple bloomed on his right cheek, perfect for poking.

His mother had adored kissing it when he was small.

If only…

Shen Jiujiu bowed his head, afraid to read Benefactor’s eyes just then.

…Benefactor had never seen Shen Xinian’s prettiest dimple.

Even after learning he’d died and been reborn as a little bird dumpling, Shen Jiujiu had never felt the truth so sharply as now.

The life he’d lived as Shen Xinian was doomed to pass Pei Du by.

Benefactor would never behold the youth he’d fished from the river with his own hands.

Shen Xinian had never found the nerve to stand before Pei Du—flushed and resolute—and declare that he’d honored the debt of that lifesaving deed.

Shen Xinian had died before spring came.

After that desperate rescue, their paths never crossed again.