Hearing the name Mo Zhicheng, Wen Yan frowned and sized up the cat-headed bird with both wings broken. He thought about reaching out to grab it and take it back, but then hesitated—in case this thing was poisonous, he quickly pulled his hand back.
"Follow me yourself. If I catch even a hint that you're trying to pull a fast one, I'll make sure you're the first one cremated tomorrow morning."
Wen Yan turned and went back into the courtyard. The cat-headed bird drooped its ears, swaying its body from side to side, following Wen Yan with a dejected, comical little stride.
This wasn't the first day it had tailed Wen Yan, so of course it knew that if Wen Yan wanted it cremated out of turn, it'd just take a single word.
Wen Yan returned to the first-floor living room, sat on a stool, grasped a metal rod in his hand, and waited. The cat-headed bird trailed inside, barely holding itself together. With both wings broken, it'd already given up on the idea of escaping.
