Pei Mansion was vast.
But sometimes, Pei Mansion didn’t feel all that big.
The next day, before Pei Du and Shen Xinian had even risen, word had already spread through the entire household about Pei Du taking Shen Xinian to the ancestral hall to offer incense the night before.
Previously, due to Shen Xinian’s scrutiny of the accounts, everyone had been holding their breath in resentment. But the master hadn’t spoken up about it, and given their teacher-student bond, it wasn’t entirely improper for him to take charge.
Now, however, things were different.
What teacher took their student to the ancestral hall to pay respects to their parents and forebears?
At any rate, there was no such custom or precedent in the Capital.
Zhong Bo had even begun preparing the formalities for merging family registers. After all, both Pei Du and Shen Xinian were the sole male heirs in their respective houses—marriage couldn’t proceed along ordinary lines and would require careful adjustments.
Shen Xinian, of course, belonged to the Xie family lineage. From the very start, Zhong Bo hadn’t considered Jiujiu as having any tie to the Zhenguo Marquis Mansion.
And so, Xie Jingtang awoke that morning and promptly fell into contemplation.
~~~
The little bird, reverted to its original form, lay sprawled across Pei Du’s chest, snoring contentedly.
Its wings splayed wide and carefree, the sleek, soft feathers fanning out, wingtips prodding at Pei Du’s neck. One tiny claw had already burrowed into the rumpled chaos of Pei Du’s collar.
It was a day of rest; no one came to rouse them.
Pei Du and Shen Xinian had retired quite late the previous night. Even after a deep, dreamless slumber, they woke feeling somewhat groggy.
Shen Jiujiu stirred but was too drowsy to rise, so he squeezed his eyes shut again and pecked twice at Pei Du’s chest with his beak.
Pei Du lifted a hand to cradle the small, fluffy bundle, his voice hoarse from the early hour. “Why’d you change back?”
Shen Jiujiu swatted him irritably with a wing.
The nerve of you to ask!
Wasn’t it because you were so obviously uncomfortable? Even after drying off, he’d clung to him for ages without a hint of drifting off!
Pei Du: “…”
It wasn’t discomfort, exactly.
Nor was it comfort.
Never mind—the little bird was perfect as is.
This little exchange chased away most of Shen Jiujiu’s morning lethargy.
The little bird sat up, stretched his wings in an enormous yawn, then hopped to Pei Du’s pillow. Planting his claws apart, he launched into his little bird morning calisthenics.
Pei Du sat up to straighten his inner robes, intending to summon an attendant, but he found himself rooted to the bed, eyes glued to the routine for a good long while.
Only when the little bird tucked in his wings and perked up his tail did Lord Pei manage a pretense of nonchalance and look away.
He rubbed his temples.
For some reason, the way Jiujiu’s movements flowed together… they had a peculiar, mesmerizing charm.
Once your eyes were on them, you simply couldn’t look away.
Having completed his morning bird exercises, Shen Jiujiu took flight, nuzzled Pei Du affectionately, planted a quick peck, and flapped off in search of his mother.
In human form right now, he was all white-haired—not fit for public viewing.
Besides, Mother hadn’t laid eyes on her rosy-cheeked little bird in days!
Pei Du watched Shen Jiujiu zoom away with glee, then sat on the bed’s edge in silent thought for a moment. Finally, he tugged the silk cord to ring the bell and call for service.
Zhong Bo entered.
Pei Du’s expression stilled at once.
Zhong Bo seldom attended to Pei Du’s dressing and ablutions personally, save for matters he deemed in need of prompt attention.
As he went about his routine, Pei Du asked, “What is it?”
Zhong Bo lowered his voice. “Elder Lin is critically ill. I’m afraid… he hasn’t long.”
Pei Du’s fingers froze on his sash. He looked up sharply.
Years ago, his maternal grandfather—the former Minister of Revenue—had petitioned for retirement, and the entire Lin family had withdrawn to their hometown, severing all contact with the Capital’s nobility.
Yet Pei Du remembered the old man’s profound wisdom, his timely retreat from perilous currents. He had dispatched someone to Gusu in secret, ensuring Elder Lin’s repose went undisturbed.
“Has Mr. Zhao examined him?” Pei Du’s smile evaporated in an instant.
“Mr. Zhao is already at the Lin residence,” Zhong Bo replied, shaking his head.
Elder Lin had long passed seventy, his constitution never sturdy.
A torrent of considerations raced through Pei Du’s mind. Logic dictated he could not go to Gusu. His grandfather had severed the Lin, Pei, and Sui family ties with near-surgical precision. To appear now would…
Drag the Lins back into the maelstrom.
And the Great Zhou Dynasty today was every bit as fraught as it had been under the Late Emperor.
Pei Du said nothing more. Zhong Bo, too, fell silent, merely bowing to adjust the accessories at Pei Du’s waist.
~~~
Shen Jiujiu executed an elegant loop and alighted at Xie Jingtang’s window. Before he could tap lightly and poke in his cute original-form head, a handkerchief thrust from inside snatched him straight into the room.
His mother fitted the little bird with a tiny bib and set him before a small dish.
Into the dish went a red-dyed egg she’d prepared in advance.
Shen Jiujiu eyed the vibrant crimson egg and suddenly caught on, his cheeks heating. His little claws fidgeted bashfully on the table, then he craned his neck, peeking his head out from behind it.
His beady black eyes gleamed bright; the little blush beneath them glowed soft pink.
Xie Jingtang doted on her little Jiujiu beyond measure. She scooped him up for a flurry of kisses.
Deeply embarrassed, Shen Jiujiu lifted a claw to fend off her lips. “Chirp chirp.”
Mother~
The little bird’s all grown up—no more of that.
Xie Jingtang chortled, setting him back on the table. She peeled the shell from the red egg. “It’s just a lucky token—for fiery prosperity and perfect wholeness. Eat it all or not, that’s beside the point; just peck a bit.”
Shen Jiujiu hopped over and took two pecks at the red egg.
But he got carried away, pecking like a chick at grains, one after the next.
Likely from all the human-to-bird shifts yesterday, Shen Jiujiu’s hunger only grew as he ate. Soon he was pinning the dish and shoveling away.
Xie Jingtang watched, stunned, as Shen Jiujiu devoured an egg nearly his own size. She prodded his tummy gently with a fingertip, but detected scant bloating.
A bottomless pit, that little bird stomach—who knew where it all vanished to.
Fortunately, one egg down, Shen Jiujiu gulped half a cup of water in big swallows, then flopped beside his mother’s hand. No more complaints of hunger.
Xie Jingtang watched with a thrill of alarm, propping the little bird upright and coaxing him along. “Straight to sleep after eating invites indigestion. Walk it off a bit?”
Shen Jiujiu huffed and chirped as he stood, then raised his wings to preen his little head feathers.
Time to dye them again, it seemed.
Xie Jingtang got the hint. “I left your clothes in the next room. I’m going to fetch something—change and wait for me in the courtyard.”
She had just reached the door when she abruptly stepped back two paces. “Hold on, didn’t you just dye your hair the other day? If you don’t wash it with soapberry…”
Hadn’t these two gone to the Ancestral Hall last night?
Shen Jiujiu lifted his wings to cover his little bird face, then peeked out coyly from the edge, revealing half a fluffy cheek flushed pink.
Xie Jingtang drifted out the door on unsteady feet.
“…I’d better go prepare the hair dye anyway.”
He’d only been human for a few days—wasn’t their relationship moving a bit too fast?
Even counting his time as both human and bird, Shen Xinian was nearing twenty. Yet in Xie Jingtang’s eyes, her son had always been frail and sickly, shunning company. Romance was out of the question; he probably struggled even to make friends.
And yet?
Xie Jingtang glanced back into the room.
The little white bird dumpling was pacing slowly across the table to settle his meal, his movements still endearing but lacking the playful coquettishness he’d shown in her presence.
Xie Jingtang lowered her eyes and smiled softly.
Her child had grown up.
~~~
Sui Ziming had hunkered down at home for two days, but the Dark Guards’ gossip about the Ancestral Hall proved too tempting to ignore. Today, he showed up at the Pei Mansion to fish for details.
The moment he poked his head in, Shen Xinian nabbed him.
Sui Ziming eyed the stack of his own botched accounts on the table with profound guilt, swallowing convulsively.
Shen Xinian lounged in the grand preceptor chair, leisurely skimming the foam from his tea. “Want these rotten debts wiped clean in one stroke?”
Sui Ziming nodded like a pestle grinding garlic.
His brother had become his cousin’s wife—best not to cross the cousin, which made the cousin’s wife the one in charge. Eldest sister-in-law as mother…
Fine, he’d nod.
Sui Ziming possessed one remarkably odd virtue.
He was hopeless at reading the room, but a master at gauging the winds of fortune.
“Excellent.” Shen Xinian had dyed his hair that morning, and it still wasn’t fully dry—but who cared? Sui Ziming had blundered right into his grasp. “Help me brainstorm: how does one throw one’s weight around most infuriatingly? How to be that spoiled young lord who makes people grind their teeth in rage?”
Sui Ziming’s bobbing head froze halfway.
His eyes bulged wide, his face a mask of horror as he stared at Shen Xinian.
No way! We were brothers once—you’ve made it to the top, don’t drag me down with you!
If Cousin finds out I taught you this stuff, he’ll hold a grudge tomorrow just for me stepping into the Pei Mansion with my left foot first—three thousand words of venom, easy!
You know how petty he is!
What the—?!?!
