Chapter 69: Carnivore ·8

OAC contacted Qiu Family parents right away.

Cui Mengmei had been on a business trip in the neighboring city. She rushed back in tears after confirming the news over and over with the police, clutching the sleeves of the OAC doctor with both hands.

“Could it be because we eat vegetarian—” She shook her head violently. “I’ve been vegetarian for decades. It’s impossible. I don’t have feathers. I’ve never turned into a bird.”

“It was that Comet Night,” the staff member repeated. “The comet shower at the end of December 2012 irradiated everyone on Earth. Mutants have been appearing one after another in countries around the world.”

“The authorities are still keeping it under wraps for now, but every affected person will receive the maximum level of adaptive support.”

Cui Mengmei still gripped the doctor’s sleeve, ignoring his uncomfortable expression as she pressed on. “If we’d hidden in the basement that day—in an air-raid shelter—then—”

“Ma’am, none of us can turn back time. And given the radiation’s reach, a shelter might not have done much good anyway.” The police officer fully understood her breakdown and turned to gaze into the distance.

Qiu Junwei had been smoking for a long time.

The night before, he hadn’t believed a word from the police or OAC officials. Now that his wife had arrived at the police station, he was even more tight-lipped.

The deputy chief signaled an officer to bring Qiu Junwei back in, and the group reconvened in the mediation room.

The OAC official let out an almost imperceptible sigh, mustered a weary smile, and explained.

“For children who’ve undergone mutation, we have excellent schools where they can continue their education. And—”

“We’re not going.” The couple spoke in perfect unison.

“Please don’t misunderstand,” the OAC official said. “This isn’t some school for the deaf and mute. It’s a provincial key high school, jointly run with top universities. The funding and faculty are both—”

“No.” Qiu Junwei cut him off again. “No need to go on. Our son is doing just fine at his current high school.”

He seemed to have steeled himself with some resolve. In a low voice, he said, “Does he need regular injections to control the mutation? After that, can he live like a normal person? Is it hereditary?”

The younger OAC coordinator shot him an incredulous look.

They’d explained it twice the night before and once already today, but it was as if he’d never heard it.

“No, no injections are needed. But the child will have to adapt to the changes in his body, balancing the time spent in bird form and human form. He can’t stay in one state for too long.”

“Since he’s still a minor, his hormones are highly unstable. Even after the Transformation Period, he could lose control at school…”

Qiu Junwei fell silent again, lost in thought.

Cui Mengmei finally voiced the question every parent in their position should have asked long ago.

“Where is he?”

“Is he okay?”

The coordinator replied at once. “He hasn’t regained consciousness yet. He’s under supervised care at our nursing center and will need more time to get through the Transformation Period.”

Cui Mengmei had no desire to linger at the police station. She stood up immediately. “I want to see him. Right now.”

“Of course.”

As the couple stepped out of the station and waited for their car, Qiu Junwei pulled Cui Mengmei into a quiet corner.

“Have you thought about it?” he asked, staring at her.

Cui Mengmei assumed he meant the school. She frowned. “That place just doesn’t feel safe…”

“No, I mean,” Qiu Junwei said with blunt decisiveness, “let’s have another one.”

Cui Mengmei went pale in an instant. Her lips trembled, but no words came out. Her slender frame swayed.

Qiu Junwei had embraced the notion that a quick pain was better than a lingering one. He steadied his wife’s shoulders with both hands and coaxed her gently. “You’re fine. I’m fine. Only Little Lu was hit by the radiation, right? We’re still young. Having a second child wouldn’t be any big deal.”

“He’s our eldest son. Of course we’ll look after him for life. But don’t you want another one—a healthy child who’s completely normal?”

Cui Mengmei nearly slapped him. She pressed her lips into a tight line. Her eyes flicked to the police station sign, then to the OAC official vehicle pulling up. Expressionless, she said, “This isn’t the time.”

Qiu Lu had been missing all night, with no telling where he’d flown or if he was hurt. She had to see him for herself.

Meanwhile, the doctor rapped sharply on the glass tank. The two egrets jolted awake.

“Ji Yuxiao, come out. I need to speak with you.”

Ji Yuxiao shifted back to human form at once. He hadn’t gotten to bed until nearly four the night before, so he still looked groggy.

The doctor’s tone was grave and unyielding. “Please come with me right away.”

He led the young man to a conference room upstairs, far from the medical center.

Ji Yuxiao frowned. “Is there a problem with Qiu Lu’s test results?”

“No,” the doctor said, “we have other matters to attend to.”

The door to the H527 Conference Room slid open with a fingerprint scan, and Ji Yuxiao immediately spotted his father seated inside.

His father looked deeply troubled and instinctively checked him over for injuries the moment he saw him.

“Please, have a seat,” the doctor said. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Shao Shi, Qiu Lu’s attending physician and a core consultant for the local Underage Archives Group.”

“I already informed your father last night that you’re both safe. You’ve come here for observation and protection.”

“I called you in so suddenly today for another matter of equal importance—Qiu Lu’s parents are coming to visit him, and you should steer clear.”

The young man’s fingers steepled tightly together, and he held his breath for a long moment before asking, “Can’t I stay on site?”

“My department and I strongly advise against it.”

Shao Shi nodded steadily.

“The fact that you have no qualms about your reputation or social standing speaks volumes about how much you care for your friend.”

“But Ji, you’re still a minor with a confidential identity. Even with your exceptional abilities and maturity, you may not be equipped to handle malice from other adults.”

Ji Jun had been sitting on the far side of the table, facing his son across the distance. Now he drew a deep breath, rose to his feet, crossed over, and clasped his son’s hand firmly.

Ji Yuxiao let out a laugh, as if he’d heard something ridiculous. “Other people’s malice… toward me?”

“We’ve dealt with countless similar cases,” Shao Shi replied. “Take a mother and daughter who mutated one after the other—the father lost control and blamed the mother for infecting her daughter, sending both of them into emotional collapse.”

“Then there are the thousands of disputes and rifts between neighbors, friends, and colleagues who discovered each other’s identities as mutants.”

“Ji Yuxiao, if the Qiu parents catch sight of you beside their son during the visit—even if you’re in human form—they might still view you with suspicion and caution.”

“Before you can protect him, your first priority has to be protecting yourself. Regrettably, that’s a hard lesson every adult must learn.”

Ji Yuxiao had found all these warnings absurd at first, but as rationality seeped back in, the gravity of the situation dawned on him bit by bit.

He might be able to throw caution to the wind and do whatever felt right in the moment, but he had parents to think of.

If he transformed into an egret right in front of the Qiu couple and spirited Qiu Lu away, what accusations and humiliations would his own parents face? What scandals would erupt across the entire neighborhood? The thought was too nightmarish to contemplate.

Ji Yuxiao had assumed his father would chime in by now—offering advice, a reminder, a warning, some objection.

But Ji Jun said nothing. He simply steadied his own emotions and squeezed his son’s hand tighter.

“You’ve seen the state of Qiu Lu’s body,” Ji Yuxiao said, striving for calm. “I can keep my distance, pretend I know nothing about this, hide my identity, and play whatever part is needed.”

“But if he keeps living like this, he’ll die. Those two will control and torment him until he’s driven to his grave—do you understand that?!”

Doctor Shao waited until he had finished speaking entirely, paused a beat longer, and then said, “I understand.”

“While there’s no formal system in the country for housing minors—short of criminal offenses, it’s nearly impossible to force a change of guardians—OAC, as a special organization, can provide ongoing protection for Qiu Lu all the way through university graduation.”

“That’s on the condition that he applies for it himself and signs several agreements.”

“He’ll need at least three or four more days to regain human consciousness. Given how close his body is to total breakdown, our assessment is that he can’t handle even the lowest dose of the Emergency Mutation Needle.”

Only then did Ji Jun speak up at last. “Let’s head home first.”

“Yuxiao, at the end of the day, our family and the Qius are two separate households.”

“Once you’re home, give some serious thought to your future—and to how desperately Qiu Lu wants to cut ties with his parents.”

“Understood,” Ji Yuxiao said coldly.

As the young man stepped out of the conference room once more, a storm of emotions churned inside him, impossible to shake off.

How could Qiu Lu ever lash out at his parents like that?

For over a decade, he’d turned the knife only on himself—docile and compliant, willing to destroy himself rather than see them angry or in tears.

Severing ties… breaking free from the Qiu Family completely…

It had been years since Ji Jun had held his son’s hand for so long, but he refused to let go now.

The boy had grown into a tall one-meter-eighty young man, nothing like the child he’d once been.

Last night, when the police showed up at Qiu Junwei’s door, he’d spiraled into a rage and pounded on the Ji Family’s door, shouting obscenities that echoed for the whole building to hear, upstairs and down.

Ji Jun had simply explained that the child had fallen ill from getting caught in the rain, and he hadn’t opened the door.

He knew full well that even without spelling it out, his perceptive son would piece it together in a heartbeat.

Ji Yuxiao walked in silence for what felt like ages. It wasn’t until they were in the car that he finally asked, “Has Mom been in touch with you lately?”

“Yes, every week,” Ji Jun said. “She has never given up on you. She’s just scared and hasn’t gotten over it yet.”

“I don’t believe it,” Ji Yuxiao said flatly. “Let me see your phone.”

Ji Jun tossed his phone over without a second thought. “You know the password—your mom’s birthday.”

Ji Yuxiao caught it and scrolled through the call logs and WeChat chats, one entry after another.

“Is Xiao Yuxiao doing okay?”

“Remind him to bring an umbrella—it’s going to pour.”

“Have you taken him out for fish lately?”

“Egrets… are beautiful birds too.”

“I had nightmares again. The psychologist says some emotions are like colds—nothing serious.”

“I miss you all so much.”

…

Ji Yuxiao pressed the phone to his chest and said nothing for a long moment.

Ji Jun spoke slowly. “Doctor Shao’s personal advice is that even in front of Qiu Lu, you shouldn’t reveal yourself.”

“The risk is too high, Yuxiao. You’re only seventeen.”

“But he’s the same as me.”

The young man clutched the phone, his knuckles whitening.

“He’s my only kindred.”