Mujin recalled a famous saying.

Life isn’t about how high you fly, but whether you land safely.

Zhao Benshan had once said this. Mujin used to treat it as a joke. Now, she understood its truth.

No matter how high she soared, a failed landing would turn her into Sparrow Pancake.

Truth was, she hadn’t even mastered flying. She shouldn’t have climbed this high.

But the snake had triggered her survival instinct—like a man fleeing a wolf in the wild, scrambling up a ten-meter tree with monkey-like agility.

Once the wolf left, he’d be stranded.

Worse, Mujin had a touch of acrophobia. She couldn’t even glance down. All she could do was flap desperately to stay airborne.

This kept her aloft briefly—but exhaustion hit fast. Soon, her wings grew heavy.

*System! How do I land!?*

[Just land like any other bird.]

*Horse’s ass! That’s useless!*

[Because your question was useless too.]

Mujin knew this trash System was hopeless. She had to save herself.

She opened her eyes and scanned the ground below.

And found a solution.

The mountain rose in terraced layers. Every stretch ended in a flat platform, each holding a small lake.

These mountain lakes were tourist attractions.

Mujin would use one.

If she couldn’t land safely—she’d land in water.

The little sparrow changed course, gliding downward toward a lake.

Near its shore, hikers rested against railings, catching their breath while admiring the view.

Reaching the summit wasn’t the only goal. Capturing beauty mattered more.

"Look how pretty this lake is. Sparkling under the sun."

"Yeah… Holy crap, what’s that?!"

A tiny speck plummeted from the sky and plunged into the water.

Three and a half somersaults. Barely a splash.

Any diving judge would’ve given it a perfect score.

Seconds later, a small head popped up. A sparrow swam calmly to shore under stunned stares.

On land, Mujin shook her feathers dry with a shiver.

*Ah… Safe at last.*

She approached the lakeside. Her reflection stared back—round eyes wide in a sparrow’s face.

She’d known her situation. But seeing it? Still unreal.

She was truly a sparrow now.

A breeze brushed her wet feathers. A trace of cold made her shiver. She flopped onto the grass.

Gazing at the blue sky, basking in warm sunlight, she closed her eyes.

This closeness to nature… wasn’t so bad.

Mujin had always adapted easily. Even as a sparrow, her emotions stayed calm. She was just tired. She wanted to savor this fleeting comfort.

But peace never lasted. Soon, hunger gnawed at her belly.

The frantic flight had drained her energy.

*System, I’m starving. Got any food?*

[Forage like you did as a human.]

*How do I buy meals at a restaurant like this?*

[Friendly reminder: You’re a bird. Nature provides.]

*How do I know what’s edible out here?*

[Your genes hold the menu. Your brain signals when you spot food.]

"Eh? Seriously?" Mujin hopped up, flapped her now-dry wings, and hopped into the woods.

She’d test the System’s claim.

Her vision tinted leaves and grass purple-red. Insects on branches and strange seeds on the ground stood out clearly.

No wonder birds found food so easily. Their world looked different.

Perspective changed everything.

Exploring the woods, Mujin’s "gene menu" soon activated.

But what it highlighted was a long, wriggling earthworm.

Mujin had always hated bugs. Yet now, this worm made her mouth water.

*WTF!?*

*You can’t eat that! It’ll kill you!*

Her mind rebelled. Her body inched closer.

The little sparrow stared down at the worm. Her tiny face held human-like solemnity.

To eat? Or not to eat?

That was the question.

······

Three days later.

In Dorm 302, the advisor sat stiffly facing three boys.

"Mujin’s been missing for three days. Any of you know where he is?"

"No clue. We’re worried too," the roommates exchanged glances, shaking their heads.

"Did he act strangely before vanishing?"

Hao Ren: "Yeah. He lied that my limited-edition sneakers arrived. Tricked me into leaving."

Meng Xianyong: "Same. Said I left protein powder at the gym. When I got back, it was hidden under his bed. I thought he was pranking me."

The advisor nodded at Zhou Ruiyang. "And you? Did you leave too?"

"I…" Zhou hesitated. "Yes. He changed his account profile pic to yours. Messaged me you needed to see me urgently."

He handed his phone to the advisor as proof.

"Why would he do this?" The advisor frowned.

A missing student meant serious trouble. He might face blame too. Anxiety tightened his voice.

"I’ll ask around campus. Alert me if you hear anything!"

"Got it!"

As the advisor left, Hao Ren and Meng Xianyong exchanged puzzled looks.

"Where’d that kid vanish to? Not even a text?" Meng muttered.

"Right? Even suicide leaves a trace. What do you think, Ruiyang?" Hao pressed.

Zhou Ruiyang fell silent, frowning deeply. Suddenly, he stood up—making the other two jump.

"I don’t know. I need air."

He strode out without another word.

They watched his retreating back, bewildered.

"Why’s he acting weird too?"