The system truly couldn’t understand human behavior patterns. The host was clearly feeling a bit stifled and indignant right now, so why was the satisfaction level rising instead of dropping?
How could it comprehend Bai Yiyi’s exhilarated mood at this moment? He complained on his beak that his owner had no eye for talent, but deep down, he was immensely proud.
A mild social anxiety sufferer like him, who used to struggle even with normal socializing, wouldn’t have had this chance to touch the most sacred profession in his heart if he hadn’t turned into a bird this time.
Now, thanks to his special ability, he’d helped take down a vicious serial killer. Even if no one else knew, the sense of accomplishment and fulfillment piling up inside naturally skyrocketed his satisfaction with the system.
But Bai Yiyi’s good mood only lasted a day.
With the most pressing and critical case temporarily resolved, Yan Tuo naturally took his beloved pet back to the apartment, resuming their usual routine.
The next morning, as Yan Tuo checked the birdcage’s food and water and prepared to head to work, he was tripped up by the white dumpling clutching tightly to his shoulder, refusing to let go.
So reluctant to part, huh?
He’d only brought the little guy to the office the past couple of days out of necessity. Now that things were back to normal, how could he embarrass himself carrying a birdcage to and from work every day? It wasn’t like he was some Beijing playboy or Manchu relic who could stroll with birds daily. Did Captain Yan have no dignity?
But Bai Yiyi had just tasted the thrill of being an invisible super sleuth and scored a bunch of points—how could he contentedly waste time alone at home? So despite his owner’s coaxing and threats, he stubbornly refused to release his grip.
Yan Tuo put the white dumpling back in the cage twice, only for it to chase after him each time. Finally, he steeled himself, returned it a third time, and shut the cage door.
Bai Yiyi’s heart shattered. Peering out through the bars, he wished he could belt out a tearful “Prison Tears.”
He’d already been so well-behaved—fully self-sufficient, unobtrusive, caring for his owner, even helping catch criminals. Didn’t he deserve the perk of being a portable sidekick?
“Cheep-cheep-cheep”—an accusation of you bastard—before he burrowed into the coconut shell and initiated a one-sided cold war.
Though Yan Tuo managed to leave smoothly, amid his busy day, his mind flashed several times to his pet’s aggrieved little eyes.
The moment quitting time hit, before he even realized it, he’d packed his briefcase and was ready to bolt—an utterly unbelievable thing for him. Even as he exited the office, Sun Lei’s glance held a touch of surprise.
No time to eat out; he grabbed some eggs and tomatoes from the fresh market downstairs, planning to cook noodles at home for a quick meal.
Opening the door, the usual “cheep-cheep” welcome? Absent.
At a glance, the little guy hadn’t even left his nest, quietly huddled in his coconut shell—impossible to tell if he was sleeping or zoning out.
Yan Tuo set down his things and immediately opened the cage door, calling out, “Tangyuan, you can come out now. Been cooped up too long, huh?”
Still no movement.
Was he sick?
Yan Tuo half-squatted, switched on his phone flashlight, and peered inside. The white dumpling lay round as a daifuku in the nest. Spotting the light, he shot a disdainful glance, wriggled side to side, and turned his body completely away, leaving a huddled back—masterfully demonstrating “love me, love my sulk.”
This… still mad?
The scene was amusing. Yan Tuo even felt a bizarre illusion, like he was some heartless cad now facing cold war retribution.
With a low chuckle, he relaxed—good, as long as he was fine. Let him nest if he wanted.
Yan Tuo didn’t dwell on it, whipped up the noodles in no time, devoured them, surfed the web on his laptop for a bit, and by 11, he was washed up and in bed.
Another departure time arrived. Standing in the entryway, Yan Tuo had a premonition.
Sure enough, just as he touched the door handle, his shoulder dipped slightly—the little guy had chased after again.
But this time, no nuzzling the neck for affection. Instead, he perched at the farthest point on the shoulder, head deliberately twisted outward, clearly conveying: I’m still mad and ignoring you, but I’m following anyway—what’re you gonna do about it?
What to do?
Lock him up again, duh. Could a little thing hold him hostage?
Yan Tuo shut the white dumpling back in the cage, adding a righteous lecture: “Be good and stay put. People have to work, or how else would I earn money to buy your bird food?”
Holy crap—that sounded just like those straight-male cancer husbands scolding their wives: “Don’t be so clingy. Don’t I work overtime out there just to make money for you?”
Though… thinking of it that way, husband-and-wife vibes were kinda embarrassingly sweet. But facing another day without earning points still made Bai Yiyi a tad anxious.
Cold war tactics failed; his owner might be the type who ate soft but not hard. Time to play weak.
Bai Yiyi extended a wing through the bars, curved it back to hug himself tightly, pressed his body and head against the cage wall—eyes the picture of innocence and pitifulness, even the single feather standing on his head silently screaming: Let me out.
Yan Tuo couldn’t fathom how a bird could pull off such anthropomorphic moves and expressions.
Staring at the white belly feathers splayed messily against the bars, recalling yesterday’s total silence—how this one bird had turned the single apartment’s habitual “quiet” into utter “desolation.”
Yan Tuo sighed softly and surrendered.
Fine, pets were meant to be spoiled, right?
Cage in hand, ignoring all the stares along the way, off to work.
No sooner had owner and pet arrived at the office than Sun Lei knocked with coffee. Spotting the cage, she beamed with delight and bafflement. “Captain Yan, bringing Tangyuan to work again? This means… another big case to grind on for days?”
Yan Tuo explained helplessly: “Nah, the little guy’s too clingy. Wouldn’t let me leave for work this morning. Locked him up and he sulked—worried he’d get depressed, so I brought him along.”
Sun Lei giggled. “Gotta say, your Tangyuan’s the smartest bird I’ve ever seen. So clean, super cute. Though he doesn’t warm up to people much.”
The girl had zero resistance to this fluffy ball; even after leaning in several times with no response, she kept singing his praises.
Of course his pet was the smartest and cutest. Fatherly pride swelling, Yan Tuo boasted a bit: “He sings too, never off-key. Way better than Old Cao’s hoarse voice.”
Sun Lei’s eyes widened like saucers. “Really? That’s amazing! Can he sing now?”
What’s so amazing? I can paint with my claws and help catch criminals too.
Bai Yiyi preened a little. He considered ignoring the girl, but wanted to earn his owner some face, build his confidence in his smarts for smoother carry-along privileges in the future.
Wings flapping, he flew to the computer screen, steadied himself, cleared his throat, and bobbed his head rhythmically: “Spring sleep not aware of dawn… how many mosquitoes about?”
“Cheep-cheep, cheep-cheep.”
Whoa, Sun Lei was enchanted. “So pretty, so good! What’s the song?”
Yan Tuo: “Mosquito Song.”
Sun Lei instantly searched up the original, gasping in awe: “Oh my god, he’s too smart! Captain Yan, you gotta enroll him in classes or something—don’t hold the kid back. He’s clearly Tsinghua-Peking material.”
Yan Tuo laughed in exasperation. “Quit yapping. Get back to work—don’t overpraise him, or he’ll get smug.”
Whether Tangyuan was smug or not, Yan Tuo was just joking. But in just three to five days, he became the mascot of the Municipal Bureau Criminal Investigation Detachment—set in stone.
Breaks rolled around, and folks always popped in to see the bird, especially the female colleagues who doted on him. Snacks piled up beside the cage; Little Liu from the Technical Group even needle-felted a white dumpling plush for the cage, calling it a playmate for Tangyuan—super thoughtful.
Bai Yiyi reaped real benefits too. Points shot up over days, hurtling past 40 toward the passing line—human form within reach.
He self-analyzed in his head: Closeness with his owner yielded no more points lately, and no case-cracking chances. So why the steady rise?
Truth was, he hadn’t realized it himself. Despite his social anxiety tic, deep down everyone craves connection. As a bird now—not that pretty face and body drawing sticky stares anymore—he’d psychologically loosened up a lot.
Plus, to please his owner and hoard points fast, he’d pushed past emotional hurdles to actively socialize. Credit to the bird body, really—point gains were no surprise.
Beyond the joy of rising points, another satisfaction for Bai Yiyi was observing Yan Tuo at work.
They say men are handsomest at work—truth indeed.
Yan Tuo becoming Deputy Detachment Captain of a major city’s Municipal Bureau Criminal Investigation Detachment in his early thirties involved some luck, sure—but mostly raw ability.
In Bai Yiyi’s amateur eyes, Yan Tuo’s mind was razor-sharp at work: ironclad logic, crystal clarity, piercing straight to problem cores—a criminal cop’s rare gift.
Add his workaholic drive, steady decisiveness, and leading-by-example style, and such achievements were par for the course.
Early “god” and “hubby” teases stemmed from looks alone. But after this close-quarters time, it was the inner qualities that truly captivated.
Even with Bai Yiyi’s usual avoidant nature, he had to admit now: he’d genuinely fallen.
Bai Yiyi had genuinely fallen for him, but he was starting to feel a little shy about it. He began observing from a distance, deliberately keeping his space, no longer flying right onto the man’s shoulder to nuzzle his neck and play cute like he used to.
Yan Tuo soon picked up on this subtle shift. He figured he must have overlooked something in caring for the little guy, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.
That day, during the midday break, the little fellow was nowhere to be found—not in his cage and not in the office.
At a loss, Yan Tuo stood in the office doorway and called out, “Tangyuan?”
A few colleagues scattered around the room looked up. From Sun Lei’s workstation, the young woman and the white fluffball poked their heads out in response, half a stick of instant noodles still dangling from the bird’s beak.
Well, well—now the little pet had learned to run away from home?
Sun Lei noticed Captain Yan’s expression cooling slightly and quickly scooped up the fluffball to hand it over. “Captain Yan, I swear I didn’t sneak it out. The cleaners finished up the office and left the door open. By the time I spotted it, Tangyuan was already wandering around the lounge.”
Yan Tuo took his beloved pet and remarked offhandedly, “Aunt Huang? Didn’t I specifically tell her to close the door? Tangyuan roams free, and sure, he’s smart, but he’s still just a small animal at the end of the day. If he flies off too far, it’d be a nightmare to track him down.”
Sun Lei explained, “It wasn’t Aunt Huang—she’s on extended leave for family issues. The cleaning company sent over a guy from the next building to cover for a few days. He must not have known.”
Yan Tuo didn’t say another word. He shut the door and turned to lecturing his pet. “Give you an inch of freedom and you start itching for mischief? Flying out that far—what if you couldn’t find your way back?”
Bai Yiyi knew it came from a place of concern, so he didn’t dare pipe up.
In his heart, though, he itched to talk back. Was he really that irresponsible… just because he was a bird?
Flying out of the office had been entirely circumstantial.
