Chapter 68: Carnivore · 7

The downpour threatened to shatter every last glimmer of light.

Ji Yuxiao had never trained for anything like this. With the already limited night vision of an egret, he strained to locate the completely out-of-control Little White Bird.

He knew full well that the egret right now held no trace of Qiu Lu’s consciousness—just like he himself back in his own Transformation Period.

It was simply fleeing for its life in the terror of being strangled, before it had even learned to properly use its wings, heedless of the lightning-lashed, thunderous storm raging outside the window.

Ji Yuxiao let out a long cry. Wheeling to one side, he caught sight of a faint white glow.

He saw it clearly now.

The violent rain had drenched their feathers through and through. Flying in weather like this was nothing short of a fairy tale.

But he had found him at top speed, answering with an identical cry to alert and soothe.

Moments earlier, stepping into that bedroom, Ji Yuxiao had frozen in shock himself.

He had never imagined Qiu Lu turning into a bird.

Even less had he dreamed that, out of the thousands of bird species in the world, they would share the exact same one.

He was an egret. He was an egret too.

No time for further thoughts.

The sleeker, more powerful egret pressed on against the onslaught of rain, letting the bloodstains on its back dilute into faint red streaks.

The sickly, emaciated Little White Bird was spent, uttering an uncertain cry at the sight of its kin.

It had burned through nearly every ounce of strength, flying outward like a living flame just to survive.

One glimpse of its fellow, and the Little White Bird could hold out no longer. It plummeted like a kite with its string severed.

It didn’t smash into the debris pile littered with jagged rocks and steel spikes. Instead, its brother’s back caught it securely.

Carrying it, bearing it, with no path leading home—they flew straight for the White Water Marsh.

Ji Yuxiao knew that bringing Qiu Lu back to the Ji Family would likely mean running straight into Qiu Junwei. Neither of them might make it out alive—not even with OAC staff already converging on the scene.

That man—no, that whole family—was raving mad.

The two white birds settled into an artificial nest in the wetland sanctuary.

Ji Yuxiao had once, on a lark, half-assembled a nest atop the tallest maple tree, with dubious stability at best, let alone any real shelter from wind and rain.

Besides, he might not even have the strength to fly that high while carrying him.

The artificial nest stood only two or three meters up, but its position was ideal—more than enough to keep the park’s stray cats at bay.

Ji Yuxiao had never been so wholly immersed in simply being a bird.

Tomorrow could wait.

Morning recitations, monthly exams, math, physics, chemistry, the teachers’ interrogations at school, the nonexistent excuse slip.

For now, he and he were just two egrets—two waterbirds fighting with everything they had to survive together.

Qiu Lu, in his Little White Bird form, teetered on the brink of unconsciousness, managing only the feeblest wisp of sound.

Ji Yuxiao lifted one long leg. A blue light flashed insistently on his ankle ring—OAC personnel tracking their position.

He didn’t hesitate. Spreading his wings, he drew him close, shielding Qiu Lu with his own body heat.

Drenched feathers clung flat, like dandelion fluff pressed sodden.

He warmed him with the heat radiating from his chest, feeling the faint scorch of their mingled warmth.

Qiu Lu. Qiu Lu.

Ji Yuxiao prayed in silence.

Live.

Survive this night, and your life stretches long ahead.

A flashlight beam swept in from the distance, a voice calling out: “Ji! Are you conscious?”

Ji Yuxiao answered with an irritable cry that cut through the din like a blade.

Four rescuers hurried up. Seeing them huddled in the artificial birdhouse, they exhaled in visible relief.

“Qiu Lu’s in there too, right? We’ve already got staff reaching out to his family—”

Ji Yuxiao unleashed a shrill warning cry.

“I get what you’re saying,” the Featherkin Rescuer replied. “We’ll take Qiu Lu back to the center tonight. He needs his body temperature stabilized and nutrients fast—you can stay right by his side the whole time. Can we come closer now?”

Lightning cracked across the distant mountains. Amid the thunder’s roar, a sturdy near-adult egret burst from the shelter.

Its wings were sodden, its gaze sharp and vigilant. Only upon spotting the soft blanket and incubator box in their hands did it glide down on the wind.

A soft call echoed from within.

Ji Yuxiao darted into the blanket. Moments later, he shifted back to human form.

“Save him—quick.” The boy’s voice was raw and hoarse. “I reported it ahead: long-term vegetarian diet, severe malnutrition. And he’s in shock right now too.”

The three trained rescuers moved in efficiently to retrieve the bird. The fourth spotted the faint bloodstains on the blanket.

“You’re hurt? Qiu Junwei attacked you?”

“Yeah.” Ji Yuxiao’s stare bored into him. “Send him back to that house on your own, and he’s dead. Clear?”

“We’ll give you both every bit of help we can. You’ve got hypothermia too—let’s get in the car.”

The rescuers were mostly burly men in their thirties. It wasn’t until they had gotten both the boy and the bird safely into the vehicle that they wiped the sweat from their brows.

It was impressive that such a young kid had desperately protected another child like that.

Ji Yuxiao certainly looked tall and mature, handling things with poise and throwing himself into danger without hesitation for a friend who wasn’t even blood-related.

But he was only seventeen, just half a year older than Qiu Lu.

The SUV sped toward the OAC Center. Ji Yuxiao took a few sips of the hot ginger tea, his gaze fixed on the white bird in the warming box.

Trapped in the cramped cage, the bird’s body temperature was slowly rising, but it was still exhausted and panicked, searching frantically for its missing companion.

“Have you been to the Qiu Family?”

The team leader had just gotten off the phone with his colleagues there, and his expression wasn’t great.

“Yeah, it’s tricky. The police are stepping in to mediate.”

The Qiu Family was the typical case they encountered—one that flatly denied the facts.

The OAC dealt with similar mutant incidents almost every day.

Even with odds of one in ten thousand, a metropolis with tens of millions of people still had a significant number of mutants.

Cases involving minors were given top priority. Most adults could accept reality fairly quickly and cooperate with the OAC’s examinations and registrations.

But many families reacted with extreme fury—cursing, denying, resisting, even trying to assault the staff—despite the child transforming right in front of them into a bird devoid of any human awareness.

People’s tolerance for the whims of fate was terribly limited.

When the staff arrived at the door, Qiu Junwei hadn’t let them in. He ignored all their explanations and called the police himself.

The police soon received a call from the OAC and dispatched officers from the Public Security Bureau to coordinate.

But even with the police there, Qiu Junwei insisted that everyone present was a scammer.

He could guess exactly why they’d come.

He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to accept it.

His son couldn’t possibly have turned into some animal. That was the child he and his wife had raised through years of hardship, on the cusp of the Gaokao and a bright new chapter in life—a living, breathing person.

Where was his son? Where on earth had he gone?!

Another call came in.

The vehicle was quiet enough that even from the back row, Ji Yuxiao could hear the report.

“Leader, we’re heading to the police station now. Mr. Qiu won’t listen to reason. Everyone’s going there for on-site mediation.”

“Got it. Watch your tone and wording. We’ll focus on treating the individuals here first.”

The warming box containing Little White Bird was quickly delivered to the medical center. As the doctor took it and hurried toward the examination room, the frail bird—barely able to make a sound—began struggling violently.

Ji Yuxiao said at once, “It’s scared. Can I come with you?”

The doctor looked troubled, but the team leader spoke up.

“These two are as close as brothers. Let him in.”

The doctor hesitated, then nodded.

“Fine. We’ll both have to file a report later, and this kid will need to sign a nondisclosure agreement.”

“Understood.”

The doctor signaled his assistant to disinfect Ji Yuxiao and give him a fresh coat, then opened the protective door marked “Authorized Personnel Only.”

As Ji Yuxiao followed them inside, it felt like stepping onto the set of a sci-fi movie.

The rescue center’s entrance was modest, like a small outpatient clinic in any ordinary hospital.

But further in, the lobby alone was nearly the size of half a soccer field, with monitoring and incubation units lining both walls.

To the left were rows of snakes—from thumb-thick blind snakes to pythons over ten meters long.

The right side resembled a zoo—countless bird species recuperating from injuries or illness.

Sparrows perched on branches, chattering noisily.

A long-tailed pheasant anxiously pecked at its lock, desperate to escape.

“Qiu Lu has to stay in a place like this too?”

Ji Yuxiao asked.

Sensing his unease, the doctor quickly explained, “Some of these patients have been birds for so long they’ve completely lost their human consciousness. We’re still working on ways to restore it.

“They’re all special cases, but don’t worry—Qiu’s doing fine. A few days of therapy to stabilize his vitals, and he can go.”

Remembering the instructions from the earlier call, the doctor added after a moment, “His family might have trouble accepting this. If things don’t improve, we’d prefer he stays until the Transformation Period is fully over and he can control his mutations on his own.”

Ji Yuxiao rested his palm against the warming box, feeling Little White Bird gently tapping at it with its long beak.

He murmured softly, “I’m here. Don’t be afraid.”

In a matter of ten minutes or so, Little White Bird’s feathers were mostly dry.

In human form, Qiu Lu had always been skin and bones, with a sickly frailty that was hard to hide.

Now as an egret, it hardly resembled the species—like a wilted flower on the verge of falling apart.

Yet egrets were supposed to be ethereal, immortal presences.

In ancient texts, it was once the mount of one of the Taiyi Savior Heavenly Venerable’s incarnations, a creature that roamed the Penglai Cloud Sea, untouched by the filth of the world.

Daoist masters revered its transcendent purity, while literati celebrated its virtuous seclusion, composing countless verses in which they all but compared themselves to it.

—Egrets take wing and soar, bound for that western hill.

My guest halts in anger, yet shares that same noble grace.

Ji Yuxiao watched with his own eyes as the doctor lifted it out once more, using rubber gloves.

Its feathers were disheveled, sparse, and patchy; its long legs gaunt as withered branches.

It lay on the brink of death, hovering at the very edge of life.

“Qiu Lu…”

He called his name.

You shouldn’t be living like this.

You should be the freest bird of all.

The little white egret underwent a thorough examination. First came several injections, followed by easily digestible meat broth fed by spoon.

Even the nurse, twisting open the nutrient pack, took several deep sniffs of its aroma.

Salmon, krill, meat puree—what fine fare.

It had regained a faint spark of awareness and was clumsily pecking at the spoon.

Starved to desperation, it devoured the food as if determined to stuff itself to death.

The doctor watched from the side. As the heart rate steadied, he said, “Good. In another day or two, you can start feeding it little fish.”

Ji Yuxiao had been standing there for a long time. “Can I sleep here with him?”

The doctor had almost forgotten the boy was a bird too.

Out of habit, he glanced at Ji Yuxiao’s ankle. “What breed are you?”

“Exotics can trigger stress reactions—”

“I’m an egret too,” Ji Yuxiao said. “Identical to him.”

The doctor paused, as if finding it hard to believe.

“Then I’ll get you a bigger incubator.”

In the dead of night, one egret slipped into the enclosure and nestled beside the other.

Its long feathers formed a flawless barrier, a warm downy quilt.

Necks pressed close, wings entwined, they fell into deep slumber.