Chapter 58

“Chirp.”

Little Bird let out a thoughtful chirp.

Ignorance was bliss, but the moment he started thinking, it hit him like a thunderbolt.

Benefactor was truly acting strange today.

Dinner hadn’t been anything special—just the usual fare. So how had Benefactor managed to stuff himself silly?

And after they returned, he’d tossed and turned restlessly… almost as if he were deliberately keeping Little Bird from making a wish.

But why on earth would Benefactor try to stop Little Bird from wishing?

Shen Jiujiu’s little bird brain whirred at full speed.

Just then, Pei Du frowned on the bed, rolling over once more. He pressed a hand to his lower abdomen and let out a low groan of pain.

Shen Jiujiu: “!!”

Benefactor must have overeaten—indigestion hitting him hard, stomach cramping up!!

Shen Jiujiu shot out from the bed curtains at once, seized the silk tassel dangling by the bedside in his beak, and yanked it downward with all his might.

A bell tinkled. The maids and servants waiting beyond the door hurried in. Shen Jiujiu fluttered about in a frenzy of worry, using his beak to properly secure the bed curtains before landing on Pei Du. His wings beat urgently against Pei Du’s stomach as he unleashed a rapid string of chirps at the attendants.

Among the night-duty maids was Dark Guard Jia Ershiwu. She bowed deeply. “Young Master, Mr. Jin went out yesterday to gather herbs and won’t return until tomorrow. This servant has some knowledge of medicine. Might I examine Lord Pei’s pulse first?”

A maid who knew medicine…?

Shen Jiujiu froze for a beat, then realized she must be a Dark Guard too. He nodded vigorously. “Chirp chirp chirp!”

Jia Ershiwu approached the bedside and reached out to take the pulse.

Her eyelid twitched.

She lifted her gaze slowly, meeting her lord’s utterly calm stare.

Jia Ershiwu lowered her eyes again.

“Chirp chirp chirp?”

How was it? How was it?

Shen Jiujiu leaned in close, craning his neck. He peered right at Pei Du, still frowning with eyes shut, then looked at the Dark Guard withdrawing her hand after finishing.

Clutching her conscience tight, Jia Ershiwu spoke measuredly. “Lord Pei is in no danger. Merely some food stagnation and blocked qi. The primary treatment should aid digestion and relieve the blockage, supplemented by methods to circulate qi and reduce bloating. That should bring relief.”

Doctors and their roundabout talk. Shen Jiujiu puzzled it out in his head: in plain terms, Pei Du had eaten too much, food backed up in his gut. Digest it, massage the stomach, get the qi flowing, and he’d be fine.

“Chirp chirp chirp chirp! Chirp chirp chirp?” Shen Jiujiu chirped, his little face etched with concern.

Jia Ershiwu didn’t speak Chirp Language and couldn’t make sense of it. She turned toward Lord Pei, who lay on his side feigning illness.

Lord Pei’s voice came out hoarse, laced with suppressed pain. “Chirp asks if there are any pills to help with digestion.”

Jia Ershiwu: “…Yes, my lord. This servant will prepare them at once.”

Just hit the kitchen for some hawthorn berries and roll a few big hawthorn pills.

“Chirp chirp chirp chirp!” Shen Jiujiu chirped sternly.

Pei Du paused, then said, “Very well. Tomorrow, I’ll report ill and rest in the residence.”

With Pei Du suffering nothing serious, the attendants withdrew from the room, leaving only him and Shen Jiujiu within the bed curtains.

Shen Jiujiu cast aside all his earlier suspicions. His heart and gaze brimmed solely with the fragile, sickly beauty before him.

Little Bird first bustled about, lowering the bed curtains he’d hung earlier. He tucked them in securely with his claws to block the morning light from disturbing Pei Du’s rest. Then he flapped up into the air and alighted gently beside Pei Du’s cheek.

“Chirp chirp chirp?”

Still hurting?

Little Bird stretched out his neck, nuzzling Pei Du’s cheek softly with his head and beak.

Pei Du had always believed his own conscience long dead, yet now it stirred with faint unease.

He pressed his lips together and reached out to stroke Shen Jiujiu’s wing. “It doesn’t hurt. Don’t worry.”

Shen Jiujiu chirped back in clear displeasure. “Chirp chirp chirp chirp!”

How could he not worry!

Little Bird’s heart ached something fierce.

Shen Jiujiu had never resented being a little bird quite so much.

Even a massive eagle like A Sa could at least drape over Benefactor right now, give his stomach a proper rub.

Shen Jiujiu flew onto Pei Du and sprawled across his stomach—a tiny, glum bundle.

Little Bird was utterly useless.

Chirp hated being a little bird.

Shen Jiujiu had no thoughts of sleep now. He focused entirely on easing Pei Du’s discomfort, soothing that aching stomach. If he could just drift off, that would be perfect.

Little Bird lifted his wings and massaged Pei Du’s stomach with all his might.

If only… Chirp were human.

Even a brief transformation would do—just long enough to rub Benefactor’s stomach.

Pei Du, who had spent the first half of his life scheming relentlessly with all the world as his chessboard, found himself truly at his limit.

He could withstand any accusation or curse hurled his way, but he couldn’t bear to meet Little Bird’s pure, fervent sincerity head-on.

Pei Du shifted to lie flat on the bed. He cupped the little bird on his chest with both hands, arranging it as comfortably as possible. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say.

Admit he was faking?

But then what?

He’d have to explain why—and that meant confessing he knew about Xinian’s heartfelt declaration in the dream.

Once he admitted that, how could he keep pretending ignorance around Shen Jiujiu?

Pei Du closed his eyes and sighed.

One misstep had led to a cascade of errors, trapping him in this impossible bind.

His fingers cradled the fluffy Little Bird Dumpling, feeling the persistent pressure of Shen Jiujiu’s earnest kneading. At last, he shed all his stubborn awkwardness.

Very well.

Let there be a dream.

Pei Du’s throat bobbed. He surrendered to the pull of sleep, soon sinking into a gentle, dreamless void.

In dreams, you’d find everything your heart desired.

~~~

But that night, Pei Du dreamed nothing.

The third watch bell echoed from the alley beyond the residence when Pei Du’s eyes snapped open.

The sensation in his arms had changed.

Another person’s breath now filled the room.

Pei Du was a man of extreme vigilance. Without that razor-sharp awareness, the Canal Gang’s assassins would have slain him on the road south during that investigation.

His collar hung loose. The Little Bird Dumpling that had been nestled against his chest was gone.

His inner shirt lay in disarray, tugged every which way.

The soft fuzz that had filtered through his thin outer layer vanished, replaced by scorching skin pressed to his waist and abdomen—smooth as warm jade freshly carved, yet fever-hot.

The faint, threadlike breaths grew deep and steady, carrying the warm pear scent that matched Pei Du’s own, drifting over to envelop his senses.

Pei Du’s neck stiffened as he looked down, his face frozen in utter, unprecedented shock.

In place of that small fluffy bundle curled a youth in his arms.

It was the brows and eyes that Pei Du had once carefully observed in his dream, the ones he had sketched stroke by stroke. Yet the hair was an unusual frost white, the tips fading into wisps of smoky blue.

Shen Xinian, stripped of his bird down, kept his eyes closed as he burrowed familiarly into Pei Du’s embrace. He chirped without a trace of self-consciousness—

“Cold. Hug Jiujiu.”

His voice rang even clearer than that of the youth from the dream, laced with a natural, coquettish petulance.

His slender back arched into a graceful curve, his skin so transparently pale that the flesh at his waist seemed gossamer-thin, revealing faint blue veins beneath.

Pei Du yanked his arm back abruptly, his body going rigid as he started to sit up. But the youth in his arms, though muddled deep in sleep, still lifted a hand. His fingers groped blindly until they found Pei Du’s stomach, kneading it with gentle pressure.

“…Still uncomfortable?”

“Rub it a little, and the pain will go away.”

Pei Du’s gaze grew complicated.

He shut his eyes, quelling the shock of confronting the sudden transformation head-on. Calmness gradually reclaimed his mind.

His eyes settled on the youth’s unnatural hair color.

He couldn’t call for anyone.

He couldn’t let others learn of Xinian’s abnormality.

A clever, coquettish little bird that had once been human was one thing. A shapeshifting monster capable of taking human form was something else entirely.

Pei Du wrapped the stark-naked youth tightly in the quilt, trying to nudge him toward the inner side of the bed to put some distance between them.

Yet even in human form, the unrestrained dominance unique to Shen Jiujiu persisted.

In just a few wriggles, the youth broke free of the quilt cocoon and burrowed right back into Pei Du’s arms with practiced ease.

Pei Du didn’t dare put the youth on the outer edge of the bed.

All this squirming, and he was liable to tumble right off.

So Pei Du took the outer position as a barrier. Each time the youth wormed closer, he reached out and pushed him back a bit—through the quilt, of course.

For a dazed instant, Pei Du felt a jolt of déjà vu. The scene was hauntingly familiar.

Shen Jiujiu had never been one to stay put when sleeping atop Pei Du. He loved nothing more than wriggling along the collar of Pei Du’s inner robes, burrowing in until he was pressed flush against the firm muscles of Pei Du’s chest.

Even in sleep, the little bird’s tenacity was not to be underestimated.

Pei Du fended him off awkwardly, clutching the ties of his inner robes and firmly extracting the hand that kept probing inside.

The youth mumbled under his breath, “Benefactor’s so stingy.” But with the familiar warmth against him at last, he finally quieted. Cheek pillowed on Pei Du’s shoulder, he drifted off to sleep once more.

Pei Du lay there in the middle of the bed, rigid as a board, both hands hovering uselessly in the air. He had no idea where to put them.

Sleep eluded him for the rest of the night.