The Songbird Myna

At the Capital City's Bird Market, a group of people came rushing by today, carrying someone toward the clinic. As they ran, they shouted:

"Master Dog, hang in there! You've got to hang in there! We can still sell the skewers! We can still sell the skewers!..."

The people browsing the Bird Market watched with keen interest.

"What happened to Master Dog?"

"No idea. He was fine just yesterday. He even came out for a stroll, showing off his Tibetan Mastiff. What's going on today?"

"You haven't heard? A little mongrel wreaked havoc at Master Dog's kennel. All his mastiffs got bitten to death."

"What? Bitten to death? Wasn't it the Invincible General...?"

The onlookers chattered among themselves. Lin Shou was right there, listening and enjoying the gossip with them, completely unaware that he was the one who'd started it all.

But enough about Master Dog's troubles.

Lin Shou had come to the Bird Market today to buy koi. He picked out one tricolor and two red-and-white fish, then had them put in a porcelain bowl. They were all tiny fry, which he'd take home and raise.

He heard that birds were singing beautifully along the street, so he wandered over to take a look. A rope had been strung between several trees, with a row of birdcages hanging from it. Some were uncovered, while others were draped in blue cage cloth.

Besides keeping out the cold, preventing fright, and warding off mosquitoes and other insects, cage cloth had another use: training birds. Once a bird was trained, it would stay quiet when its cage was covered and sing when the cloth was taken off. Covering a new bird's cage could calm it down and stop it from flying about and crashing into the bars. New birds often died from crashing into their cages.

In the mornings, bird enthusiasts often came to the market to stroll with their birds. They'd hang up their cages and let the birds compete in song, each learning to sing better than the last.

Some wealthy enthusiasts even wanted their birds to develop the finest voices. When it was time to train them, they wouldn't let their birds mix with yours and your rough voices. They thought yours sounded second-rate and didn't want their birds picking up bad habits. Instead, every day they paid to hire the finest singers in the area, placing them beside their own birds so they could learn. Once their birds had learned, they'd take them out to show off how beautiful their voices were.

Master Bird, one of the four masters of the Bird Market, was the greatest bird enthusiast in the Capital City. He had several top-notch songbirds at home and made a business of renting them out. A single day's rental cost ten taels of silver—more than a porter could earn hauling heavy loads in several years.

Birds were worth more than people.

That was how it went with enthusiasts: once they got serious about a hobby, they spared no expense. They were particular about everything, willing to spend a thousand gold pieces to buy a horse just to get its bones.

Tsk, now that was the decadent, bourgeois life.

Lin Shou strolled along, enjoying the songs of the birds. Most of the ones in the cages were hwameis and larks, followed by golden orioles—all breeds with lovely voices. As he wandered, Lin Shou happened to spot a myna.

Like parrots, mynas had a knack for imitating human speech. They looked quite a bit like crows and magpies, with black feathers all over, but this one had a streak of white feathers on its head.

Its cage had been set apart from the others. The bird wasn't perched on a crossbar; it was sprawled at the bottom of the cage, barely alive, blood covering its body and head. It looked as though it had injured itself by crashing into the bars.

Tsk, Lin Shou shook his head as he looked at it. This bird probably wouldn't last more than a few days. It happened all the time—not every bird was willing to live in a cage.

As he watched, someone nearby spoke:

"What a pity. This myna has a streak of differently colored white feathers on its head, and it was born with a fine voice. Teach it twenty auspicious phrases, and it could fetch at least five hundred taels from an enthusiast who knows its worth. What a shame it can't be tamed. It's crashed into the bars so many times that it's even broken its wing."

"Differently colored" meant a bird's coloring differed from what was normal for its breed. For instance, if a litter of white cats had one with patches of color, that one would be called differently colored. Back then, such animals were worth a lot.

The speaker was a bird seller, and the myna belonged to him. When he'd caught it, he'd seen its unusual coloring and thought he'd struck it rich. But he hadn't expected it to start crashing into its cage just a few days after he brought it home, nearly killing itself.

Now the bird had broken its wing from crashing into the bars, so it was worth even less. He couldn't sell it at all, and it would be dead in a few days. The bird catcher opened the cage, took out the myna, and planned to find somewhere to toss it.

It was easy to imagine what would happen: unable to move with its broken wing, the myna would be snatched up and eaten by a feral cat before half a day had passed.

Lin Shou watched as the bird catcher prepared to throw the myna away. After a moment's thought, he spoke up. "Ten cash. Sell it to me."

"What do you want that thing for? It'll be dead in a couple of days..."

The bird seller found it strange, but ten cash was still money, and better than throwing the bird away. Since someone wanted to buy it, he made the deal.

When Lin Shou left the Bird Market, he was carrying a bowl with his three newly bought koi and had a dying myna tucked in his clothes.

Back at the Corpse-Stitching Shop, he transferred the fish into a tank and dug out the Yunnan White Ointment. Lin Shou had used the stuff on An Yunli last time, and it had worked astonishingly well. This time, he'd try it on a bird.

He rubbed on a little ointment. It didn't work nearly as quickly this time, perhaps because the fracture was so severe. Lin Shou left the bird where it was, shut the shop, and went to sleep.

By the time Lin Shou woke at dusk, he heard wings flapping around inside. Looking up, he saw the myna flying all over the room, as if trying to find a way out.

Lin Shou leaped with a burst of inner power and reached out, catching it with ease. The myna's tiny, beady eyes were full of confusion. It had flown so high—how had he caught it?

Lin Shou opened its wings and checked them. The fracture had healed completely, after just one day. The Yunnan White Ointment really was astonishingly effective.

The myna worth five hundred taels was alive again.

But Lin Shou had no intention of selling it. He didn't care much about money; as long as he had enough, that was fine. If he truly wanted to make money, he had plenty of ways to do it. There was no need to bother with this.

He'd simply picked up a bargain. The myna's unusual coloring had caught his eye, so he'd bought it. The bird seller didn't know how to handle it, but he did.

"Listen, I'm not going to keep you in a cage. You can fly around this room as much as you like every day, and I'll take care of your food and drink. Understand? If you do, land on my shoulder."

Lin Shou patted his shoulder. As he spoke, he drew on the Temple of Literature's literary energy, letting it seep into his words and flow into the myna's little head.

Lin Shou released the bird. It flew about for a while, then really did land on his shoulder. It had actually understood him.

This ability was called Tireless Teaching. Like Eidetic Memory, it was an ability Lin Shou had gained as his Temple of Literature literary energy grew stronger and nourished his brain. It let the other party clearly understand what he meant, whether they were human or animal.

Lin Shou called it simultaneous interpretation—a little translator. It might not seem like much, but it was genuinely useful.

Whether people or animals, when they understood what you meant, they were more likely to calm down and listen. If they couldn't understand you, then all you could do was use the power in your dantian.

At any rate, the myna had understood him and was cooperating. It looked like Lin Shou wouldn't have to resort to force.

Lin Shou found some bran rice for the myna, but it turned its head and fixed its eyes on a lamb chop he'd bought at the market yesterday.

Was this bird really that clever? Could it even tell what was good? Lin Shou found it amusing and chopped off a little minced meat for it. The bird pecked at it with its pointed beak, eating with relish.

Once it had finished eating, Lin Shou continued training the myna.

"Speak."

"..."

"Speak."

"..."

"If you can't speak, I'll stew you in a pot."

"Speak!"

The myna's cry rang out, clear and perfectly enunciated.

Once it had found its voice, the rest would be easy. Lin Shou nodded in satisfaction and took out the Ruler of Preaching and Teaching. Tang Poetry had found an heir, and he still had some Song Lyrics to pass on.