Chapter 25: Heavy Rain

Bai Yiyi was utterly baffled at that moment. He had hidden inside a coconut shell simply to keep from dozing off out of sheer fright, but upon waking, he discovered himself completely wrapped in a paper bag. What on earth was going on?

He wriggled and probed around as best he could, confirming it was a standard file bag—sealed shut, save for the faint slits along the edges of the flap that let in slivers of light and wisps of air.

…Had he been kidnapped?

Who would kidnap a bird from inside the city bureau? And not just any bird, but one with an official commendation as a police bird?

Uncertain of his predicament, Bai Yiyi didn’t dare call out. Instead, he first summoned the system for answers.

The system had grasped the situation by now and sounded rather sheepish. “Sorry about that, Yiyi. That person handled you with such care when he put you in the bag. I figured it was just playtime, and you were sleeping so soundly, so I didn’t wake you.”

Bai Yiyi was long past complaining about this naive, still-developing young system that barely understood human nuances. “So what’s happening now? Where exactly am I?”

“Uh… a garbage transfer station.”

Bai Yiyi couldn’t help sniffing the air. Amid the stench he hadn’t noticed before wafted a nauseating mix of rotting filth, amplified by the summer heat into something truly vile.

He felt profoundly depressed. “Who had the nerve to sneak into the deputy captain’s office, steal me out, and dump me in a trash heap? Or was this some pointed jab, calling me trash?”

The system shared his outrage. “It’s that… that tea arts master you described. Zhao Guangren.”

Bai Yiyi simply couldn’t make sense of it.

Last time at the port, he had gone all out to help the man. Without his frantic search and the swift seizure of that drug shipment, would Zhao Guangren’s major smuggling case have wrapped up so neatly?

And now this—repaying kindness with betrayal?

Evidently, it wasn’t just his tea skills that were top-notch. This was poisoned tea through and through. The man’s conscience was rotten to the core.

Bai Yiyi grumbled about him bitterly for a moment before refocusing on escape. He needed to get out, and fast.

He scratched at the bag with his claws and pecked at it with his beak, but the thick paper held firm with barely a mark. Worse, the exertion quickened his breathing, making the confined space feel even more stifling. He could scarcely draw breath.

He halted immediately, steadying his respiration as he racked his brains for a solution.

A sudden spate of meows echoed from outside. Bai Yiyi’s spirits lifted. Wild cats scavenging nearby, perhaps? Should he have the system ask one for help?

On second thought, that was too risky. He was barely ten centimeters tall—a tiny morsel. Even if he clawed his way out of the bag, he could end up swallowed in one gulp.

After all, the animal kingdom knew nothing of altruism or morality. A starving stray rummaging through garbage would see him as nothing more than a meal. It was the most natural thing in the world.

Resisting the urge to act, Bai Yiyi hunkered down in the bag, enduring his humiliation while awaiting a better opportunity.

His thoughts drifted to his owner. What would Captain Yan do upon discovering his absence? Would he panic? Would he suspect kidnapping rather than a wild whim to run away?

Before long, the patter of rain began outside—soft at first, then building to a steady roar.

J City had sweltered in dry, oppressive heat for nearly a month. Now, on this humid afternoon, it finally unleashed a downpour.

~~~

Yan Tuo wiped the rain from his face to clear his vision, methodically checking each of the six dog kennels. Still no sign of his little white dumpling.

He had scoured the office hall, the meeting room, the training field, and now here—every place he remembered bringing the bird. Where on earth was the little guy?

Returning to his office, he cut a bedraggled figure. The ever-attentive Sun Lei quickly offered him a box of tissues. Yan Tuo waved it off and pressed on. “Not in the women’s restroom either?”

Sun Lei shook her head and raised the box again. “Captain Yan, dry your hair first. You don’t want to catch a cold. Tangyuan… maybe got caught up playing and lost track of time. With the rain, it can’t come back right now. It’ll probably pop up soon. Try not to worry.”

Yan Tuo wasn’t so sure. The bird was timid, especially around strangers. It had gotten a bit braver lately, but it would never just up and fly off from familiar territory without reason.

Even if something had spooked it into flight, it couldn’t have gone far. He and Sun Lei had combed the entire building, the grounds, and the kennels. How could there be no trace at all?

Yan Tuo double-checked with his subordinate. “It was sleeping soundly when I left—dead to the world. I was only at Fang Ping’s for about an hour. It shouldn’t have woken up yet. You’re certain you noticed nothing from your desk? No one came to my office?”

Sun Lei replied, “The power was out, so the computers were down. The office was sweltering—everyone had cleared out. With nothing else to do, I took the last two months’ files to the archives. I was gone maybe ten minutes, tops. Everything else seemed normal.”

Worry creased her face as she added, “What do we do? It’s been two hours—no way to check the cameras.”

Yan Tuo fell silent for a moment. “No choice. Post in the team group chat—ask everyone in the bureau to keep an eye out. I’ll go talk to Captain Li.”

They parted ways, launching a full-scale search for the Divine Bird Tangyuan across the city bureau.

~~~

The rain pounded relentlessly, dimming the light seeping through the bag’s seams. Time had blurred into irrelevance for Bai Yiyi—it felt like an eternity.

“If I can maneuver this bag into the rain, the paper should soak through and tear easily enough, right?” It was the best idea he’d come up with after much deliberation. He voiced it aloud to the system.

The system hedged. “Probably? But you’re buried in this garbage pile—how do you get out there?”

“Scan for that first wild cat. Still nearby?”

“It’s there, sheltering in the station. Not far from you at all.”

With solid intel, Bai Yiyi wasted no more time. He flapped his wings, clawed frantically, and let out sharp, clear chirps.

Just as he’d hoped.

Soon, he felt himself being dragged along. Then cat claws raked across the bag above him with a chilling “scritch-scritch,” as if slashing right through his body.

Bai Yiyi went utterly still, eyes fixed on the paper, ready to bolt at the first tear.

The bureau’s file bags were built to last. The cat left a mess of claw marks but couldn’t puncture it. It tried biting next, but the flat, rigid shape made it awkward.

Growing frustrated, it abandoned the chewing and batted the bag around like a toy—dragging, kicking, tossing.

Bai Yiyi played dead inside, but the relentless tumbling left him dizzy and queasy.

At last, a mighty yank exposed him to the rain drumming against the bag. The cat’s antics ceased entirely.

It must have dumped him in the downpour, unwilling to get soaked itself.

The deluge was fierce. In moments, the bag was sodden. The scratches from his efforts and the cat’s began to soften and widen into fissures. Rain trickled in.

A puddle formed under his claws and rose steadily. The gaps grew wide enough to glimpse the outside lights. This was his chance.

Bai Yiyi crouched low, coiling for the leap.

“Watch out!”

The system’s cry jolted him.

A razor-sharp claw whistled past his head.

Thank goodness for that split-second hesitation—or it would have struck him dead-on as he burst free.

The cat was cunning beyond belief. It hadn’t bought his feigned death at all, merely lurking for the perfect pounce.

Bai Yiyi didn’t hesitate again. He launched upward with all his might, plunging beak-first into the rainy sky.

The drops stung like needles, and his feathers soaked through instantly, weighing him down. Flight became a Herculean effort.

He alighted on the nearest large tree for shelter but stayed on high alert. Cats were expert climbers; one slip, and that stray could ambush him anew.

He scanned his surroundings. In the gloomy light stood a gaunt black cat, fur bristling, poised under the station’s eaves and glaring straight at him.

Emaciated and feral—it had to be starved and desperate. Its expression was pure hostility. Bai Yiyi felt a fresh surge of relief that he hadn’t sought its aid. By now, he might be warming its belly.

The two eyed each other warily across more than ten meters, one high, one low. Night had fallen completely, and the rain was finally tapering off.

The long-awaited downpour had begun at noon and raged until nearly eleven at night. Cao Yiman wrapped up his assignment and returned to the bureau, only to find the deputy captain’s office door ajar, lights blazing.

He lit a cigarette but lingered in the doorway rather than pollute the room. “Still here? Another big case?”

His superior seemed distracted, taking a long moment to reply. “No. Waiting for Tangyuan to come back.”

Cao Yiman blinked in confusion. “…Tangyuan? Where’d Tangyuan go?”

Yan Tuo said, “Didn’t you see the messages in the group chat? Tangyuan’s been missing since this morning. The entire city bureau has turned the place upside down looking for it, but there’s still no sign of it.”

Cao Yiman took two quick drags on his cigarette, stubbed it out in a hurry, and walked inside to flop down on the sofa. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through the messages, his brow furrowing. “Damn, when did this happen? I’ve been on surveillance all day and didn’t notice a thing.”

Yan Tuo didn’t reply. He simply turned his head to gaze at the birdcage, a faint daze settling over his features.

Cao Yiman skimmed through the updates quickly, then checked their team’s private group chat. Several members were discussing the matter, but no one seemed overly concerned. With Tangyuan’s wits, they figured it couldn’t be anything serious—probably just wandered off for some fun and got held up by the downpour.

That was Cao Yiman’s take too, so he blurted it out without a second thought. “It must’ve just run off to play, right? Come on, Captain Yan, this is what happens when you give it too much freedom. You leave the door wide open like it’s free-range. And now? You can’t even tell if it took off on its own or if someone just bagged it and walked off with it. You and Sun Lei are always treating it like it’s one of us…”

Yan Tuo’s gaze snapped straight toward him. “What did you just say?”

Cao Yiman blinked in confusion, nearly repeating it like a refrain. “…You gave it too much freedom?”

“No, the sentence after that.”

“…If it ran off to play on its own or if someone bagged it and took it away?”

Yan Tuo’s ears caught Cao Yiman’s puzzled words, but his eyes drifted to the bookshelf, where a stack of new file folders lay scattered. Sun Lei had dropped them off a couple of days ago as spares—a good twenty or so in the pile. Now they were spread out, and it was impossible to tell at a glance if any were missing.

He paused for a moment to think it over, then picked up his phone and dialed the gate post. “During the power outage this morning, did anyone walk out carrying one of the city bureau’s special archive bags?”

…

“Who? …Captain Zhao?”