The Feathered Game: From Sparrow Slave to Mastermind of the Inner Palace

I was tasked with raising a Qingluan bird for the Crown Prince, the most prestigious job in the Eastern Palace.

But the bird suddenly stopped eating, withering like an autumn leaf.

The old eunuch warned me ominously, "His Highness returns to the palace tomorrow. If he sees the bird like this, you'll die."

I knelt by the cage all night, slicing my fingertip to feed it blood.

At last, the Qingluan pecked at the food, but it was my flesh and blood it pecked at.

The next day, the Crown Prince stroked its feathers and said casually, "This bird has the scent of human blood on it."

His gaze fell on my bandaged hand. "Did you touch it?"

Before the order to beat me to death could be given, rebels had already breached the palace gates.

Amid blood and flames, the Crown Prince dragged me into a secret chamber. "I remember you, bird keeper."

He shoved a bloodstained Eastern Palace token into my hand. "Keep it safe. Crawl out through the dog hole."

Outside, the palace rang with the sounds of battle. He suddenly gripped my chin. "If you survive..."

Before he could finish, a stray arrow pierced the screen. His warm palm covered my eyes. "Close your eyes. Don't look."

When I opened them again, the rebel leader's blade was dripping with blood.

He kicked aside the Crown Prince's corpse, picked up the token by my feet, and sneered:

"An Eastern Palace dog? Perfect. Lead the way to the Bureau of Birdkeeping."