Where in the Four-Nine City is the liveliest? It's none other than Qianmen Street. Everyone knows it's a place where dragons and tigers hide—workshops, market stalls, and antique shops stand in dense clusters. Where there's entertainment, there are teahouses and taverns for people to rest. The Fengya Residence was built at the intersection of Cherry Slant Street, with Dashilan to the east and Liulichang to the west, making it a prime location with a commanding view. The Seventh Prince had a private room reserved there year-round to meet fellow bird enthusiasts and discuss avian lore. Over time, Fengya Residence evolved beyond just a restaurant into a small-scale bird market. For instance, if I acquired a Mountain Red Northern Finch and fancied your Singing Chicken Whistling Thrush, we could strike a deal to exchange. Today, the Seventh Prince brought his newly obtained Orchid Chop Grey-backed Falcon, hoping to trade it with Prince Heng for his Pigeon Tiger Peregrine Falcon. With a thin chain tied to the bird's leg and clutched in his hand, he let the bird perch on his shoulder before setting off.
Najin had the sedan chair ready at the Asimen Gate. While assisting him into the chair, he didn’t forget to remind, "Master, the Fourth Prince is visiting the residence today. Won’t you wait before leaving?"
Hongtao scratched his head with a fan. "If I’m not home, he can reschedule. Don’t let it delay my bird trade."
"What about the guards? You should decide who to bring along this time—there are more attendants than usual..."
He waved dismissively. "Whoever." With that, he stepped into the sedan and kicked the wattle fence, causing the curtain to shake and fall shut on its own.
The Seventh Prince was a rather unconventional prince. Serving under him meant one only needed to exhaust all ingenuity in keeping him entertained—nothing else required attention. Najin cheerfully acknowledged, clapped his hands to signal the sedan bearers, and off they went, with two little eunuchs carrying bird cages trailing behind, making a grand procession toward Fengya Residence.
Upon entering, he saw all the familiar faces already gathered. Prince Liang had somehow procured a myna bird and was holding up two fingers at it on the table, asking, "Tell me, what number is this?"
The bird paused, then replied with disdain, "Isn’t it two?"
Prince Liang spread his thumb and forefinger apart, gesturing again. "And this?"
This time, the bird flapped its wings noisily and squawked, "Eight horses! Nine fortunes! All open!" Clearly, someone had played drinking games in front of it, and the clever bird had memorized every line.
The room erupted in laughter. Hongtao grinned. "Well, well, with a Sichuan accent—must’ve been picked up from a Sichuan native."
The shop attendant spotted him and hurried over to kowtow, grinning. "Your Highness, please come inside! As per your esteemed order, we’ve changed chefs. Today’s steamed cake has plenty of vinegar—sour and chilled just right. The osmanthus syrup on the almond tofu is freshly boiled with honey, stretching sugar threads two feet long without breaking. Everything’s prepared for you."
Hongtao gave a noncommittal hum. "The new chef, huh? Bring me a bowl of spinach puree soup—let’s test his skills."
"Right away!" The attendant fawned obsequiously. "This time, we’ve hired a Tianjin chef. His specialties include first-grade bird’s nest, shark fin toppings, and osmanthus fish bones. Won’t you give them a try?"
Hongtao flicked his robe and settled onto the divan, spinning two iron balls swiftly in his hand. He smirked. "What do you know? The simpler the dish, the better it tests one’s skill. If he can’t even make spinach puree soup right, he’d turn shark fin into vermicelli."
The attendant nodded profusely. "Understood! Please rest for now. I’ll wait outside for Prince Heng and bring him to you the moment he arrives."Then let's wait. Hongtao called in a few regular companions to join him, and they proceeded to analyze his orchid bird from beak to claw. Those men, wary of his status as a prince, would praise even a chicken if he placed one before them.
Only those who brought birds could sit together. With a glance, Hongtao noticed Tong Si had brought two cages, both covered with black cloth. He tilted his chin slightly. "What worthless trinkets have you picked up this time? If you didn’t rush to show me, it must be something decent."
Tong Si chuckled. "How could you say that? When have I ever kept anything good from you? These are two Red Marsh Tits sent from the estate yesterday. If Your Highness likes them, pick one as my humble gift."
"How could I impose? I’ve long heard the Red bird has a fine voice and wanted one, but never found the time to visit the bird market..." As he spoke, he reached to lift the cloth. The cages were exquisite—hibiscus-shaped, crafted from fine bamboo brushed with tung oil, with two jade perches crossing the middle. Inside, two birds, one large and one small, their feathers differing in texture, perched silently on the bars. Lowering the cloth, he licked his lips. "I’m no expert on Red birds. Since you’re offering one, I’ll defer to your judgment."
Truthfully, Tong Si was nervous. For a bird enthusiast, parting with a beloved bird was more painful than cutting flesh. But what could he do? This was a prince—someone to be flattered and revered, not offended over a bird. Fortunately, the Seventh Prince was no true connoisseur, just a dabbler who could be fooled. So he brought both cages forward, lifting a corner of the cloth to inspect them. Squinting, he said, "If Your Highness likes them, I’d be honored to gift you one. I’ll pick the best, for my own pride too. Let me explain—Red birds are divided into Southern and Eastern strains. The Eastern ones have a fast, heavy call—not ideal. The Southern ones sing slow and crisp, favored by breeders. Look at this one..." He pointed to the grayish-white bird. "A genuine Southern strain, a Xingtai Red. Its song is crisp and lively, truly exquisite..."
"Southern Reds are indeed superior, but this isn’t a Xingtai Red—it’s a Handan Red."
Amid the discussion in the private room, a voice chimed in from the doorway. Everyone looked up to see a slight, fair-faced figure. The group was stunned, but the Seventh Prince laughed. "You know about birds, kid?"
Dingyi entered and bowed. "Your Highness, I used to live near the bird market with my master. Watching traders every day, I can’t claim infallibility, but I’m about seventy to eighty percent accurate."
Hongtao shot Tong Si a look. "Well, well! You dare deceive me?"
Tong Si panicked but couldn’t admit it. Eyeing the newcomer, he cupped his hands. "Young man, how can you be so sure this is a Handan Red?"
"By its size," Dingyi replied with a smile. "Forgive my boldness, but let me explain. Handan Reds are larger with grayish feathers, while Xingtai Reds are smaller and whiter. Handan Reds have fewer calls, less refined, whereas Xingtai Reds sing beautifully but are prone to flaws, easily picking up bad notes..."
Her rapid-fire explanation left everyone dizzy. Hongtao slapped the table. "Enough! No need for all that. Just tell me which of these two is better, and we’ll keep it."Dingyi responded with a respectful "Aye," then glanced at the other cage. The bird inside was unremarkable—smaller in size and duller in plumage, with white claws. Bowing slightly to the Seventh Prince, she said, "In my humble opinion, that one isn’t a Xingtai Red either, but a Jiangnan Red. Don’t let its plain looks fool you—its song is exquisite, delicate, melodious, and full of life. If I were you, I’d prefer to keep that one. If you don’t believe me, uncover the cloth and let them sing. A side-by-side comparison will make the difference clear."
The Seventh Prince actually went ahead and lifted the cover. The moment the bird saw light, it burst into song. The larger one wasn’t bad, but placed side by side, it clearly paled in comparison to the smaller bird. The little one’s song was crisp and fluid, a delight to the ears. The Seventh Prince laughed and gave Mu Xiaoshu a hearty slap on the shoulder, nearly knocking him to his knees. "Good, good lad! Your character might be lacking, but you’ve got an eye for birds—that’s a skill in itself. Tong Si, you sly fox, you’ve crossed me today. Believe me when I say I’ll skin you alive!"
"Ah!" Tong Si hastily bowed and clasped his hands. "I was fooled too—they told me it was a Xingtai Red, so I believed them. I meant to offer you the smaller one, but I feared you’d think it beneath you. Look at it—if I’d recommended it, you’d have thought me stingy... After all, you’re a prince. A bird with poor looks would’ve been an insult to your dignity."
In high spirits, the Seventh Prince didn’t press the matter further and took both cages. "I know you’re reluctant to part with them, but I won’t take them for nothing. I’ve got a young Hu Shrike at my estate—I’ll have someone send it to you tomorrow."
Tong Si wiped his sweat and rose, murmuring his thanks before retreating with the others.
Now it was Hongtao’s turn to scrutinize Dingyi. He tapped the cage and studied her. "Didn’t expect you to have this talent. Is it just Reds you can judge, or other birds too?"
Dingyi replied, "Not all of them, but I’m fairly confident with thrushes and orioles."
Hongtao nodded. "Like this Jiangnan Red—small in stature but packing some skill. Tell me, what brings you here? A headsman like you dabbling in birds?"
He was mocking her, as usual—ever since they’d met, he’d never had a kind word for her. Dingyi put on an earnest expression and said, "No, I knew the prince came here daily, so I timed my visit to serve him."
"Since when did the sun rise in the west?" Hongtao took a sip of sweet wine from the table and eyed her skeptically. "Last time, I offered you a post in the gardens, and you refused. What’s your game today? I suspect you’re up to no good—still angling to be a guard, aren’t you?" Leaning against the inlaid low table, he rubbed his nose with a bent finger. "Physically, you’re hardly cut out for it, but today you showed your knack with birds. None of my guards have that skill. I’ve never liked rigid formalities—bringing a bird keeper up north would raise eyebrows. But if a guard could double as a bird keeper, now that’d be perfect. A guard in name, a bird keeper in duty..." The Seventh Prince was actually convincing himself, slapping his thigh with a chuckle. It struck him as an unprecedented, revolutionary idea.Dingyi was surprised—had she hit the mark by sheer luck? Living near the bird market wasn’t the main point. When she was around ten, she had followed her nanny’s husband to catch birds, using those large nets set up in the woods. Birds that weren’t careful would fly into them; the unlucky ones died, while the tougher ones were caught, cleaned up, and sent to specialized bird collectors. These collectors would examine the birds—some were deemed inferior, their necks wrung and skins peeled before being sent to restaurants as dishes; others were top-grade, kept in cages for breeding. Once they produced a brood, they could fetch a high price at the market. Back then, she was just a kid, watching from the sidelines as people picked birds. They found her cute and liked teasing her, saying, “Xiaoshu, which is prettier—this bird or yours?” Then they taught her how to distinguish males from females and how to gauge their temperament.
Wandering far from home broadens one’s horizons, and those experiences build confidence. At the time, it didn’t seem like much, but now, when it mattered, it turned out to be quite useful.
“It’s settled then,” the Seventh Prince said, pointing at her. “Can you ride a horse? If you can’t even ride, you won’t be able to tend to the birds.”
Dingyi quickly replied, “I can! I rode mules as a child, then switched to horses—I’m quite good at it.”
“Oh, impressive.” The Prince smiled, his eyes gleaming. “So you refused to go into the cellar because you wanted to stay by my side all along! You should’ve said so earlier. We’re acquainted—it’s not like I couldn’t have made an exception.”
Her lips twitched as she bowed. “I was just afraid of you before. You’re a Prince, and we’re just common folk—getting too close made me tremble. I didn’t dare make any unreasonable requests.”
“Fair enough.” He teased the red bird with a bamboo skewer as he spoke. “Do well, and you won’t be mistreated. As for your salary and such, ask Najin—he’ll introduce you to the Guards’ Office.”
After all her scheming, she had finally succeeded. A strange feeling welled up inside her as she knelt and bowed deeply. “Your Highness… thank you, Your Highness. I’ll do my best. But if you’re taking the birds north, the cold weather might be too harsh for southern birds.”
Hongtao clicked his tongue. “That’s what you’re here for! Have them make two small cages, fist-sized, and you’ll carry them close to your chest, tucked inside your clothes, got it?” He gave her a sidelong glance. “Tending to the birds is your job—otherwise, why would I keep you?”
Two small cages, one on each side, nestled inside her clothes… Dingyi flushed slightly. This Prince was shameless—he couldn’t go three sentences without making some crude remark. She could endure a little teasing now, but she was still worried about how to explain things to her master. She asked for the Prince’s permission, “My master doesn’t know I’m taking up service with you. I need to go back and inform him. Once I’ve settled that, I’ll report to the steward at your residence. Would that be acceptable?”
The Seventh Prince could be difficult when he wanted to, but he could also be surprisingly accommodating. He waved a hand dismissively. “That’s only proper. Clean up your past before serving a new master—don’t drag any baggage into my service. I’m not like the Twelfth Master, you know.”
She responded with a respectful “Aye.” “Then, Master, this servant will take his leave now.”
The Prince’s narrow eyes flicked toward her as he chuckled. “You’re a quick one, changing titles so fast. Fine, scram!”
Dingyi bowed again before backing out of the private room.
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