Myna the Word Bird

The Capital City Bird Market, today a group of people rushed frantically carrying someone toward the medical hall, shouting as they ran:

"Master Dog, hang in there! Master Dog, you gotta hang in there! Mutts can be sold too! Mutts can be sold too!..."

The bird market strollers found it all quite novel.

"What's happened to Master Dog?"

"No idea, he was fine yesterday, out for a stroll showing off his mastiff, what's this about today?"

"Haven't you heard? Master Dog's kennel got wrecked by some little mutt, the mastiff got bitten to death."

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

The gossiping crowd buzzed with chatter, Lin Shou listened nearby while eating his melon, completely unaware that he was the instigator.

But let's set aside Master Dog's affairs.

Today Lin Shou came to the Bird Market to buy koi, he picked one tricolor and two red-and-white, had them put in a porcelain bowl, all fry-sized, to raise up at home.

Hearing pleasant bird calls from the neighboring street, he strolled over to take a look. A rope was strung between a few trees, hanging a row of birdcages, some open, some covered with blue cloth cage covers.

Besides keeping out cold, startling, and mosquitoes, these cage covers also served to train the birds. Once trained, with the cover on they stayed quiet, and when it was taken off they'd start singing. For new birds, the cover kept them calm, preventing wild flying and cage collisions—many new birds died from crashing into their cages.

In the morning, the Bird Market often had hobbyists walking their birds, hanging their cages up too, letting them compete in song, each learning to sound better.

There were even wealthy enthusiasts who specialized in nurturing fine voices, refusing to let their birds mix with inferior ones for fear of bad habits. They'd pay daily to have the best singers in the area placed next to their own birds to teach them, and once trained, they'd show off: "Listen to how beautiful my bird's voice is."

Master Bird, one of the Four Masters of the Bird Market, the top bird hobbyist in the Capital City, owned several top-tier singers and ran this exact business, renting them out for ten silver taels a day—enough to dwarf years of work for a porter.

Birds, more valuable than people.

That was the nature of hobbyists: when they got into the finer points, they spared no expense, truly particular about it—like paying a thousand gold for a horse's bones.

Tsk tsk, now that was some decadent petty-bourgeois taste.

Lin Shou strolled along enjoying the chorus of a hundred birds. The cages held mostly thrushes and larks, with a few goldfinches next—all breeds with fine voices. As he wandered, Lin Shou happened to spot a myna.

Mynas had a special trait: like parrots, they could mimic human speech. They looked similar to crows and magpies, all black, but this one had a tuft of off-color white feathers on its head.

This myna's cage was set aside alone, and the bird wasn't perched on the crossbar but lying at the bottom, barely alive, covered in blood on its head and body, clearly from crashing into the cage.

Tsk tsk, Lin Shou shook his head as he watched. This bird probably wouldn't last a few more days—common enough. Not every bird was willing to be caged.

Just then, someone nearby spoke:

"What a shame. This myna has that tuft of off-color white feathers, naturally gifted with a fine voice. Teach it twenty auspicious phrases, sell it to a knowledgeable hobbyist for at least five hundred taels. What a shame, it can't be tamed, crashed into the cage until its wing broke."

"Off-color" meant a color variation from the norm—like a litter of white kittens with one spotted one. That was considered valuable back then.

The speaker was a bird seller, and this myna was his. When he first caught it, seeing such a fine off-color specimen, he thought he'd struck it rich. But after just a few days, it was crashing into the cage, nearly killing itself.

Now with its wing broken, there was no hope left. It couldn't be sold, would die in a few days. The bird catcher opened the cage, pulled out the myna, planning to find a place to toss it.

Predictably, with a broken wing and unable to move, the myna wouldn't last half a day before a stray cat snatched and ate it.

Lin Shou watched the bird catcher about to discard the myna, thought it over, and spoke up: "Ten coppers, sell it to me."

"What do you want this thing for? It'll be dead in two days..." the bird seller asked, puzzled. Ten coppers wasn't much, but it was better than throwing it away. If someone wanted to buy, he'd take the deal.

When Lin Shou left the Bird Market, he carried a bowl with three new koi and tucked a dying myna into his clothes.

Back at the Corpse-Stitching Shop, he transferred the fish into a tank and dug out the Yunnan White Ointment. Last time Lin Shou had used it on An Yunli, the effect was surprisingly good. This time he'd try it on the bird.

He dabbed a bit of ointment on, but this time it didn't take effect quickly—probably because the fracture was severe. Lin Shou left the bird there, closed the shop door, and went to sleep.

By evening, when Lin Shou woke up, he heard the sound of wings flapping in the room. Looking up, he saw the myna flying around everywhere, as if trying to find a way out.

Lin Shou channeled his energy, leaped up, and caught it easily in his hand. The myna's tiny bean-like eyes held great confusion—it had flown so high, how was it caught?

Lin Shou pried open its wing to check. The fracture was completely healed, all in just one day. The Yunnan White Ointment really was astonishingly effective.

Now this five-hundred-tael myna was alive again.

But Lin Shou had no intention of selling it. He didn't pursue money much—enough was fine. If he really wanted to make cash, he had plenty of ways; no need for this effort.

He'd simply grabbed a bargain. Seeing this off-color myna was pretty nice, so he bought it. The bird seller couldn't handle it, but he could.

"Listen up. I'm not putting you in a cage. You can fly freely around this room every day, and I'll provide your food and drink. Understand? If you do, land on my shoulder."

Lin Shou patted his shoulder as he spoke, channeling the scholarly aura from the Temple of Literature. His words carried that aura, infusing it into the myna's little head.

Lin Shou released his hand. The myna flew around for a bit, then actually landed on his shoulder. It had understood.

This ability was called "Tireless Teaching," like "Eidetic Memory," both gained as Lin Shou's scholarly aura grew and his brain was nourished. The effect was making the other party clearly understand what you meant, whether human or animal.

Lin Shou called it simultaneous interpretation, a little translator. It seemed unremarkable, but it was really practical.

Whether human or animal, when the other party could understand your meaning, they'd calm down and listen. If not, then you had to resort to your dantian's power.

Anyway, this myna understood and cooperated well. Looked like Lin Shou wouldn't need to get rough.

Lin Shou found some husked rice for the myna to eat, but it turned its head and stared at a lamb chop Lin Shou had bought at yesterday's market.

This bird was this clever? It knew what was good? Lin Shou found it amusing, chopped up a bit of minced meat, and the myna pecked away eagerly with its sharp beak, eating quite happily.

When it finished, Lin Shou continued training the myna.

"Speak."

"..."

"Speak."

"..."

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

"Speak!"

That call from the myna was crisp and clear, every syllable perfectly pronounced.

Once it found its voice, things were easy. Lin Shou nodded with satisfaction, pulled out the Ruler of Preaching and Teaching. Tang Poetry had found an inheritor; he still had some Song Lyrics left.