CYCGS 10

Chapter – 10

The Group’s Pet

The system really didn’t understand human behavior patterns. Right now, the host’s emotions were clearly a bit aggrieved and resentful, so why did his satisfaction score go up instead of down?

How could it possibly understand the excitement churning in Bai Yiyi’s heart at this moment? On the surface, he was complaining that his owner had no taste, but deep down, he was genuinely proud.

A mildly socially anxious person who’d once found even normal social interactions difficult—if he hadn’t been turned into a bird this time, how could he ever have had this chance to get close to the profession he revered most in his heart?

And now, thanks to his special talent, he’d helped solve the case of a vicious serial killer. Even though no one else knew about it, the sense of achievement and satisfaction piled up together, so it was only natural that his satisfaction score for the system would rise significantly.

But Bai Yiyi’s good mood lasted only one day.

With the most stressful and critical case temporarily resolved, Yan Tuo naturally took his beloved pet back to the apartment and resumed his normal daily routine.

The next morning, after checking the birdcage’s food and water, Yan Tuo was about to head to work when he was stopped by the white little ball clinging tightly to his shoulder.

Was he that reluctant to part?

He’d brought the little guy to the office the past couple of days because circumstances forced it. Now that things were back to normal, how could he show up carrying a birdcage every day? He wasn’t some pampered young master from a bygone era, strolling around with his pet bird for show. Didn’t Captain Yan have his dignity to think of?

Unfortunately, Bai Yiyi had just gotten a taste of being an invisible detective, and had reaped a nice batch of points besides. There was no way he was content to waste time alone at home. So no matter how much his owner coaxed or threatened him, he absolutely refused to let go.

Yan Tuo put Bai Yiyi back in the cage twice, but each time the bird chased him out again. Finally, he steeled himself, put him back a third time, and shut the cage door.

Bai Yiyi’s heart shattered. He stared out through the bars, feeling like he could belt out a mournful prison lament.

He’d been so good—completely self-sufficient, not a nuisance, and he even cared for his owner and helped catch criminals. Didn’t that earn him the treatment of a loyal sidekick?

“Chirp chirp chirp!” he accused—you jerk!—then retreated into his coconut-shell nest and began a one-sided cold war.

Although Yan Tuo made it out the door without issue, his mind wandered back several times during the busy workday to his pet’s pitiful, wronged little eyes.

When quitting time came, before he even realized it, he’d already packed up and was ready to leave. For him, this was almost unthinkable. Even Sun Lei gave him a slightly surprised look as he walked out of the office.

He couldn’t be bothered to eat out either. He stopped by the fresh supermarket downstairs, grabbed a few eggs and tomatoes, and planned to cook at home—just some noodles to get by.

Opening the door, the usual “chirp chirp” welcome was absent.

At a glance, the little guy hadn’t even come out of his nest. He was quietly holed up in his coconut shell, either sleeping or spacing out.

Yan Tuo put down his things and went over to open the cage door immediately. “Tangyuan,” he called, “you can come out now. Bored, aren’t you?”

Still no movement.

Was he sick?

Yan Tuo crouched down, turned on his phone’s flashlight, and peered inside. The little white ball was curled up in his nest like a plush mochi. Catching the light, he gave it a disdainful glance, wiggled side to side, and turned his entire body around, leaving only a shrinking, sulking back—a masterclass in giving someone the cold shoulder.

Was he… still angry?

The scene was a bit funny. Yan Tuo even felt a strange, absurd notion creep in, as if he were some kind of heartless cad, now being punished by the silent treatment.

He let out a low chuckle and felt relieved—as long as nothing was wrong. Fine, if the little guy wanted to sulk in his nest, let him.

Yan Tuo didn’t think much more of it. He quickly made his noodles, scarfed them down, pulled out his laptop to browse for a while, and by 11 PM, had washed up and gone to bed.

Time to leave again. Yan Tuo stood at the entryway, but he already had a feeling.

Sure enough, the moment he touched the doorknob, he felt a light weight on his shoulder—the little guy had followed him out again.

But this time, there was no nuzzling against his neck. Instead, Bai Yiyi perched at the farthest edge of his shoulder, deliberately turning his little head outward, making it perfectly clear: I’m still mad and I don’t want to talk to you, but I’m coming along anyway—what are you gonna do about it?

What was he gonna do?

Lock him up again, of course. Like he’d let some little critter get the better of him?

Yan Tuo shut Bai Yiyi back in the cage, adding a stern lecture: “Be good. Don’t follow me to work. People have to go to work—how else am I supposed to earn money to buy your bird food?”

Holy crap. Wasn’t that exactly the same as those emotionally clueless husbands lecturing their wives: “Don’t be so clingy—I work overtime and suffer out there, all to provide for you, you know?”

Even so, thinking about it that way—”husband and wife” and all—made him feel a little flustered. But facing another day with no points coming in still made Bai Yiyi a bit anxious.

The cold-war strategy wasn’t working. His owner might respond better to softness than toughness. That meant only one option: play the helpless card.

Bai Yiyi stuck one wing through the bars, then bent it back and hugged himself tightly, pressing his body and head against the cage wall. His eyes were pure innocence and pitifulness, and even the single feather sticking up on his head seemed to cry out silently: Let me out.

Yan Tuo really couldn’t figure out how a bird could pull off such human-like gestures and expressions.

Looking at the white belly with feathers all ruffled from being pressed against the bars, and remembering how the little guy hadn’t made a peep all day yesterday—how, all by himself, he’d transformed the familiar “quiet” of the bachelor apartment into utter “loneliness”—

Yan Tuo let out a low sigh and surrendered.

Fine. A pet is meant to be spoiled, right?

He grabbed the cage, ignored every single look from everyone along the way, and headed to work.

Not long after the master and pet arrived at the office, Sun Lei knocked and came in with coffee. She spotted the birdcage at once, delighted but also puzzled. “Captain Yan, you brought Tangyuan to work again? Is there… another big case that’s going to keep you here for days?”

Yan Tuo explained helplessly: “No, the little guy’s just too clingy. When I tried to leave for work this morning, he absolutely wouldn’t let me go. And when I shut him in the cage, he got upset. I was afraid he’d get depressed, so I had no choice but to bring him along.”

Sun Lei giggled. “I have to say, your Tangyuan is the smartest little bird I’ve ever seen. He’s so clean and incredibly cute. Even if he doesn’t really warm up to people—”

The young woman was completely defenseless against this fluffy little ball. Even though she’d come over several times and he’d never once acknowledged her, she still couldn’t stop singing his praises.

His own beloved pet was, of course, the smartest and cutest. Yan Tuo, in his doting “old dad” mentality, felt a flicker of pride: “He can even sing—perfectly in tune, way better than Old Cao’s off-key voice.”

Sun Lei’s eyes went wide with excitement. “Really? That amazing? Can he sing now?”

*What’s so amazing about that? I can draw with my claws and help catch criminals too.*

Bai Yiyi felt a little smug. He wasn’t keen on acknowledging the girl, but he did want to save his owner some face, to give him more confidence in his intelligence so he’d be willing to bring him along more willingly in the future.

He fluttered his wings a few times, flew over to perch steadily on the computer monitor, cleared his throat, and began bobbing his head rhythmically: “Spring slumber knows no dawn… how many mosquitoes are around—”

“Chirp, chirp.”

Wow, Sun Lei was absolutely charmed. “That’s wonderful, so wonderful! What song is that?”

Yan Tuo: “The Mosquito Song.”

Sun Lei instantly searched up the original and let out an amazed gasp: “Oh my god, he’s so smart! Captain Yan, don’t you think you should sign Tangyuan up for some classes or something? Don’t hold the kid back—he’s obviously got the makings of a Tsinghua or Peking University candidate!”

Yan Tuo laughed despite himself. “That’s ridiculous. Get back to work, stop with the flattery—look at him, he’s getting all full of himself.”

Whether Tangyuan was actually getting full of himself or not was just Yan Tuo’s casual tease. But within just three or five days, he had undeniably become the official group pet of the Municipal Bureau’s Criminal Investigation Detachment.

Every break time, someone would drop by to see the bird. The female colleagues were especially fond of him, piling up a mountain of snacks beside the cage. Little Liu from the tech team even made a felted white puffball and placed it inside the cage, calling it a playmate for Tangyuan—truly thoughtful.

Bai Yiyi also reaped real benefits. Over those few days, his points shot up steadily, breaking past 40 and racing toward the passing line. The hope of regaining human form was right within reach.

He analyzed it internally too: getting close to his owner didn’t earn him many points anymore, and there hadn’t been any crime-solving opportunities in this stretch—so why were the points still rising?

The truth was, he hadn’t realized it himself. Despite his social anxiety, deep down, everyone craves connection and communication. And now that he was a bird—no longer burdened by the face and body that had so often attracted sticky, uncomfortable stares—he’d psychologically loosened up a great deal.

Add to that his eagerness to please his owner and rack up points as quickly as possible, and he’d been pushing past his emotional hurdles to actively interact with people. To some extent, that could be credited to his avian form—so the point gains were hardly surprising.

Beyond the joy of accumulating points, another thing that satisfied Bai Yiyi immensely was observing Yan Tuo at work.

They say a man is at his most handsome when he’s working—and that saying is absolutely true.

For Yan Tuo to become the deputy captain of the Criminal Investigation Detachment of a first-tier city’s municipal bureau in his early thirties—there was certainly some luck involved, but more than that, it came down to ability.

In Bai Yiyi’s admittedly limited view, Yan Tuo was exceptionally sharp-minded at work, with strong, clear logic. He often hit the nail on the head, cutting straight to the core of an issue. For a criminal investigator, that was a truly rare gift.

Coupled with his relentless work ethic, his calm decisiveness, and his willingness to lead from the front, it was only natural that he’d achieved such results in his field.

If the earlier “dream man” teasing had started purely from an appreciation of good looks, then after this period of close daily contact, what moved him far more was clearly the man’s inner qualities.

Even with his usual tendency to avoid and retreat, Bai Yiyi had to admit now: he’d genuinely fallen for him.

But falling for someone for real made him timid. Bai Yiyi began keeping his distance, watching from afar, deliberately maintaining space. He no longer flew directly onto Yan Tuo’s shoulder to nuzzle against his neck and act cute.

Yan Tuo soon noticed this subtle change. He wondered if he’d somehow slighted the little guy again, but he couldn’t figure it out.

One day, at noon during break, the little guy was nowhere to be found—not in the cage, not in the office.

Helpless, Yan Tuo stood at the office door and called out: “Tangyuan?”

Several colleagues scattered around looked up. From Sun Lei’s workstation, the young woman and the little white ball popped into view—the bird’s beak still holding half a stick of crispy noodle snack.

Well, well. Had he learned to run away from home now?

Seeing that Yan Tuo’s expression had turned a bit cold, Sun Lei quickly scooped up the little ball and brought him over. “Captain Yan, I didn’t sneak him out, I swear! After the cleaner finished the office, the door was left open. When I noticed him, he was already wandering around out here.”

Yan Tuo took his pet and said casually, “Auntie Huang? Didn’t I tell her to keep the door closed? Tangyuan is free-range—no matter how smart he is, he’s still just a little animal. If he flew too far, it wouldn’t be easy to find him.”

Sun Lei: “It wasn’t Auntie Huang. She had family issues and took a long leave. The cleaning company temporarily transferred a guy from the next building over to cover for a few days. He probably didn’t know.”

Yan Tuo didn’t say anything more. Once the door was shut, he began his fatherly lecture: “Give you a little trust and you get bold, huh? You dare fly that far out? What if you couldn’t find your way back?”

Bai Yiyi knew it came from concern, so he didn’t dare chirp back.

But inwardly, he wanted to retort. Was he really that clueless a person… bird?

Flying out of the office was entirely for a reason.