The middle-aged man glanced around nervously but saw no one.

"Xiao Xin, was that you shouting?" he called to his son.

"Not me, Dad," the boy replied.

Strange—was it just his imagination?

"Didn't you hear someone crying for help?"

"I heard it. Isn't that from the TV?" The little boy was doing homework inside, unaware of the outside.

The man peeked into the bedroom; the TV screen was black.

Not the TV. But a girl’s voice really was shouting for help.

This was his home—where could a girl come from?

The voice didn’t sound like Xiao Hong or Xiao Lan from the foot massage parlor.

After turning in a circle, the man looked back at the little sparrow in his hand.

The sparrow glared back, its tiny body trembling nonstop.

That voice had been so close, as if…

it came from the bird?

Impossible.

The man frowned. He glanced at his knife and tentatively waved it forward.

"Help! Help!" The sparrow squeezed its eyes shut, and a soft, fearful female voice spilled out.

"My god, you can talk?!" He dropped the knife instantly and lifted Mujin up, eyes wide with shock.

Mujin hadn’t meant to speak—she’d been so terrified at death’s door that her "native tongue" slipped out.

She never expected this instinct to save her life.

Faced with this strangeness, the man felt no fear—only excitement.

If a cat or snake had spoken, he might’ve panicked, thinking he’d met an immortal.

But a sparrow? No.

He’d been a bird catcher half his life. He knew birds like parrots and mynas mimicked speech.

He simply thought this sparrow imitated humans—and "help" was pure coincidence.

Looking closer, its wing was injured. He recalled the last sparrow he’d caught, wounded to trap it.

He’d heard of a park kidnapping weeks ago—maybe this sparrow learned "help" then.

Still, a talking sparrow was a first for him.

This one could fetch serious cash.

He stared at Mujin with an eerie grin, making her shiver.

What was he planning?

Why smile so creepily?

The man stood, grabbed a small wooden birdcage, and tossed Mujin inside.

Little Mujin tumbled a few times, peering up at him with fearful eyes.

"Lucky you. Stay put!"

He sat back on his stool and resumed slaughtering the other sparrows.

This time, he moved slower—checking each sparrow couldn’t talk before killing it.

Mujin shut her eyes, huddled at the cage bottom, trembling.

She didn’t know why, but she’d survived… for now.

Sobbing inwardly, this was truly terrifying.

An hour later, stir-frying sounds filled the kitchen.

The sparrows—once strangers—now shared a pot, "old acquaintances" at last.

Of dozens, only Mujin and another sparrow (mistaken for a dancer) remained.

They sat in side-by-side cages, staring wistfully at the kitchen.

The boy dropped his schoolbag and rushed over. "Dad, why two sparrows?"

The man stood at the kitchen door, cooking. "The iron cage one’s yours. The wooden cage one’s for me."

"Oh!" The boy eagerly took the iron cage sparrow. It wasn’t shy, perching obediently on his palm.

"Hold on—I’ll feed you." He grabbed birdseed from a table bag and offered it. The sparrow dove in, pecking hungrily.

Sparrows digest fast; starving all day left them dizzy and weak.

Mujin pressed her head against the bars, watching the little brother feast.

Her own stomach growled—but here, only bird droppings filled the cage.

Surviving by speaking human felt lucky, but being the "dancing" sparrow seemed better now.

As Mujin regretted this, the boy asked, "Dad, can this sparrow fly?"

"Of course. Didn’t it just fly to your hand?"

"So if I throw it up, it’ll fly? Won’t fall and die?"

"Nonsense. No bird that flies dies from falling."

Grinning, the boy cupped the sparrow and hurled it upward.

"Fly!"

He meant to watch it soar—but shockingly, it slammed into the ceiling.

The impact knocked it out cold. It plummeted, hitting the floor with a *splat*.

The boy sprinted over, scooped it up, and wailed, "Dad, it’s dead!"

"What? A bird that dies from falling?" The man checked. "Ugh, too late—the others are cooked. Toss it. I’ll catch you another."

As they talked, Mujin broke into a cold sweat.

Good thing she hadn’t escaped—she’d be the one dead on the floor.

Alive, yes—but for how long?

She felt like a wanderer lost in the Pacific, hope vanishing into endless ocean. Cold waves drowned her spirit, leaving only despair.

Who could save her?

...

10:30 PM. Jiujiang University dorm.

Student union members pushed the door open. "Seniors, room inspection. Where’s the guy on this bed?" One patted Mujin’s empty bed.

"Girlfriend’s pregnant. Hospital," Hao Ren drawled lazily.

Third-years like them always lied during checks. The union knew seniors got leniency—just a formality if attitudes stayed mild.

"Oh." The member nodded, pointing to Zhou Ruiyang’s bed. "And this one?"

"Same. Girlfriend’s pregnant."

The member paused. "Do they share the same girlfriend?"

"No," Hao Ren said. "But both are indeed pregnant."

"Right, seniors!" The member scribbled notes and slipped out quietly.

The door clicked shut. Hao Ren sighed.

Truth was, he and Meng Xianyong had no clue where Zhou Ruiyang was. The guy vanished after evening classes—even his phone was off.

What was happening? Mujin missing half a month… now Zhou Ruiyang gone too.

Hao Ren suddenly felt their dorm had turned eerie.