Chapter 68
Rustle, rustle—
The sound of wings flapping came from outside the window.
Turning his head, Wen Xin spotted the red falcons hovering nearby.
These falcons had escorted Wen Xin and his companions all the way here, seemingly unwilling to leave, as though their mission was not yet complete.
Their icy, sharp eyes vigilantly scanned the surroundings, softening only slightly when they landed on him. But their gaze flickered briefly with interest when they noticed the enticingly plated food on the table.
Wen Xin caught this subtle reaction and paused momentarily before breaking into a smile.
Leaning on his cane, he approached the little green one, who looked at him with a puzzled expression. Without hesitation, he picked it up and whispered a few words close to its ear.
Upon hearing the young man’s request, the little green one—Ah Lü—seemed entirely indifferent. It meowed lazily as if to say:
“Meow”
Sure, whatever you decide works for me.
With that, Wen Xin walked over to the window, opened it, and called out to the falcons.
The red falcons immediately perched along the windowsill, their sharp talons gripping the edge. They stood in a neat row, ears perked as if awaiting important instructions from the young man.
Today had been a whirlwind of events, and Wen Xin suspected the falcons had gone just as long as he had without eating or drinking. The fleeting hunger in their eyes as they noticed the food confirmed his hunch.
He spoke kindly, “Thank you all for your help today. If you don’t mind, I’d like to invite you to share a meal with us as a token of my gratitude.”
The red falcons froze in surprise.
To them, Wen Xin was a figure of immense honor, and any commands or tasks he gave were merely their duty—gratitude was neither expected nor necessary.
Yet the young man had already stepped aside to give them room to enter through the window.
Ah Lü, still in its cat form, stayed silent, a clear indication it wished to keep its true identity concealed. Wen Xin respected this unspoken boundary, refraining from addressing the little green one as their king.
With a warm smile, he added, “Come on in. I’ve already gotten permission from the one inside, so there’s no need to hold back.”
Though hesitant, the red falcons watched as Wen Xin turned and walked back inside without pressuring them further.
He pulled out a chair and seated himself at the table.
Ah Lü, noticing the gesture, promptly abandoned its efforts to instruct Ah Zi, the little squirrel. Taking small, deliberate steps, it nimbly leaped onto the table, settling on Wen Xin’s left side.
Ah Lü sat beside Wen Xin, its gaze fixed not on the tempting food in front of it but on Wen Xin’s long, slender fingers. Its clear, assertive meow seemed to demand attention.
“Meow”
feed me, feed me!
Wen Xin obligingly picked up a piece of rib, carefully stripped the meat from the bone, and fed it to the little green cat. Meanwhile, noticing that Ah Zi, the little squirrel , was still sitting on the floor in a daze, Wen Xin called out softly:
“Come on, little one, don’t just sit there. Time to eat.”
Moments later, the red falcons, still hesitant, cautiously hopped inside through the open window. Seeing that Ah Lü showed no signs of displeasure, they carefully stretched their necks to snatch pieces of meat from the table.
The moment the meat touched their beaks, they couldn’t stop.
While regular food could not sustain mutated creatures as a main meal, their taste buds, similar to humans, allowed them to enjoy it as a delightful treat. The falcons devoured the food enthusiastically, clearing plates within moments. Only the presence of their king and Wen Xin kept them from showing even more unrestrained appetites.
After the meal, the black bear diplomat arranged for two doctors to visit Wen Xin. At his insistence, this time only two came—one to treat his injured ankle and another to check on his head injury.
“Wen Xin has amnesia?”
It was only now that Ah Lü learned about the severe accident that had befallen the young man. Its expression darkened, and it promptly pulled Ah Zi aside to question what had happened.
Unfortunately, Ah Zi hadn’t known Wen Xin for long and was unaware of why he had appeared in the eastern region. However, it did recall some details from their first meeting—there had been a giant zombie and a crushed van.
Hearing about the massive zombie, Ah Lü seemed to recall an unpleasant memory, its eyes growing colder and more pensive.
While Ah Lü didn’t care for human twists and schemes, it wasn’t oblivious to the fact that some external forces are to blame here.
Hating Base One was one thing; understanding the reality of the situation was another.
Ah Lü was well aware that without researchers, it would likely have remained an ordinary snake, its thoughts never evolving beyond primitive instincts like feeding, fighting, and mating. It would have spent its days coiled in the humid soil of a rainforest, trapped by its animalistic nature, only to eventually perish.
But now, it had not only evolved into a mutant but further ascended to a complete form, escaping that miserable fate.
It deeply appreciated the advantages brought by this transformation but couldn’t help questioning humanity’s motives.
When have humans ever been so generous as to grant animals such immense power?
Why didn’t they use it on themselves instead?
This skepticism grew stronger, as Ah Lü knew how greedy and ruthless those researchers could be. They weren’t just cruel to mutants—they even sacrificed their own kind as disposable tools to provoke mutants and gather experimental data.
Such people would never willingly hand over such benefits to mutants without expecting something in return.
The appearance of the giant zombie, with its utterly abnormal size and strength compared to regular zombies, raised another troubling question: Could humanity itself be on the path to evolution?
After a moment of contemplation, Ah Lü summoned the red falcons and pointed at Ah Zi.
“Find a few more mutants and accompany the squirrel to retrieve that giant infected creature. Transport it to City A,” it instructed.
Ah Lü didn’t pretend to understand the complex human plots and schemes that spanned thousands of years of history. Their intricate strategies and manipulations were far beyond what a snake could unravel in a short time. However, Wen Xin’s older brother was famously cunning in the outside world, so Ah Lü unhesitatingly decided to pass this thorny problem to him.
Inside the room, the doctor was examining Wen Xin’s injuries.
His ankle was swollen and discolored, the bruising so severe that pressing it left a stark white imprint against the skin. The injury had been so painful earlier that his foot had gone numb.
As the doctor began working on the injury to improve circulation, a wave of sharp, stinging pain surged through Wen Xin, causing his brows to knit briefly. He made no sound, his stoic endurance surprising the doctor, who was accustomed to patients screaming or crying over far less severe injuries. Wen Xin merely paled but stayed silent.
The doctor applied medicinal oil, reset the brace, and rewrapped the bandages before sternly warning Wen Xin to rest properly. If he didn’t, the injury could lead to permanent damage.
Wen Xin, far from stubborn, nodded in agreement. He hadn’t ignored his injury intentionally—it was the unending string of incidents that had prevented him from recovering sooner. Still, the doctor’s serious demeanor prompted him to respond obediently.
Once his ankle was treated, attention turned to the head injury.
The swelling had subsided, leaving no visible signs of damage. After a brief examination, the doctor speculated that the memory loss could be due to a blood clot pressing against a cranial nerve. Thankfully, Wen Xin’s cognitive abilities and speech remained unaffected, indicating the condition was not critical. The doctor reassured him that his memory should return in time, though they recommended getting a brain scan to be safe.
Unlike the Idealism Sect’s modest resources, the central city boasted several well-equipped hospitals. With an S-Class mutant like the Scaled Viper overseeing the area, humans and mutants alike flocked here, bringing nearly seventy percent of the region’s resources and wealth under its control within just a few months.
Wen Xin nodded in agreement.
However, the doctor hesitated, his professionalism driving him to voice a lingering question.
“Mr. Wen, has your brain ever sustained an injury before?”
The question caught Wen Xin off guard. His surprised expression prompted the doctor to elaborate.
“There’s a faint surgical scar on the back of your head. It’s subtle and likely from over a decade ago. You might not remember it since you were probably very young at the time.”
“I had brain surgery before?”
Wen Xin instinctively reached to touch the back of his head but couldn’t feel any scar.
The events of over a decade ago felt distant, even more remote than the day his brother Wen Jinfeng graduated high school and never came back. Wen Xin strained to recall any vague memory but found nothing.
The doctor, seeing his reaction, didn’t press further and simply advised him to rest well.
As soon as the doctors left, Ah Lü burst into the room. It had overheard everything the doctor had said earlier. Wen Xin reached out to pat its head, about to assure it that he was fine.
Before he could speak, Ah Lü’s tail flicked against his forehead, as if torn between scolding him and showing concern. Its tone became a mix of frustration and care.
“Why are you like this? You never take care of yourself!”
Wen Xin blinked, startled.
“…You can talk?”
“Of course! Even that little squirrel you picked up can talk—why wouldn’t I be able to?” Ah Lü replied matter-of-factly. “I gained the ability to speak after becoming a mutant. I didn’t say anything earlier because I didn’t want to scare you.”
It took Wen Xin a moment to realize that by “that little squirrel,” Ah Lü meant Ah Zi.
Ah Lü had been nervous about speaking. Its sharp eyes carefully studied Wen Xin’s face, watching for signs of fear or rejection. When Wen Xin simply looked thoughtful, without any panic or aversion, Ah Lü relaxed, emboldened by his calm demeanor.
Suddenly, its confidence grew.
Putting on an exaggeratedly pitiful act, it said, “I’m your most beloved little cat! You wouldn’t ignore me just because I can talk now, would you?”
Wen Xin raised an eyebrow, catching the emphasis on the words “most beloved.”
“Most beloved? Really?”
“Of course!” Ah Lü declared earnestly. “You’ve kept other cats, squirrels, and foxes, even a person, but I’m your absolute favorite!”
Wen Xin debated whether to tell Ah Lü that while he had amnesia, most of his memories had already returned. But seeing Ah Lü’s triumphant expression, he decided against it. Instead, he played along and asked with a smile, “What exactly do I like about you?”
Ah Lü, oblivious to his teasing tone, puffed up with pride. “You said I’m the most obedient! The others always make you angry, but I never do. You even said I’m the most reliable in the entire family—better than Xiao Hei!”
At the mention of “Xiao Hei,” Wen Xin’s mind immediately conjured not an aloof black cat perching atop a cabinet, but something else entirely.
In his memory, there was a dark, dim room. Hardened scales, like armor, exuded a searing warmth, lingering on his face with an almost reluctant tenderness. Every touch seemed to etch his existence into the other’s memory, branding it deeply into bone and blood.
A man’s scorching breath brushed against his ear, intertwining with his own frantic heartbeat in a chaotic, inescapable dance.
“You’re the only one who knows my weakness.”
Wen Xin’s heart seemed to falter for a moment.
Unconsciously, he pressed his hands against his ears, trying to muffle the reverberations that continued to echo in his chest.
“Ah Lü…” His voice was hoarse. “Do you know where Xiao Hei is?”
Before reaching full evolution, the unspoken rule among the mutants was not to seek each other out. The process of evolution was fraught with danger; survival was uncertain, and no one wanted to face the possibility of killing a former companion if they succumbed to their darker instincts.
Mutant battles were brutal and merciless, leaving no room for compromise. Whoever survived would inevitably bring Wen Xin pain, something none of them wanted to see.
To avoid that outcome, it was better not to meet at all.
Ah Lü was one of the lucky ones. Before it completely lost itself, Wen Xin appeared, pulling it back from the brink.
Seeing the hopeful look in his eyes, Ah Lü hesitated but ultimately chose not to lie. It gave a detailed account of the others’ whereabouts.
“Xiao Qi, the little fox you raised, is in City B. Someone is taking good care of him, feeding him well.”
“Ah Zi’s location is uncertain. It likes to wander and doesn’t have a fixed home. Last I heard, it was working as a blacksmith in a fishing village in the southern region, but who knows where it’s gone now.”
“Ah Jiu is in the west. I heard he found a good job in Rose City, somewhere high up. People have to look up to see him. He seems to be doing well.”
Ah Lü’s information about the others came from sensing their auras and reports from subordinates. However, it had no leads on the remaining two—Lan Tuan and Xiao Hei.
“Lan Tuan’s origins are mysterious. A powerful S-Class mutant seems to be protecting it, keeping its whereabouts hidden. Few have seen it.”
“As for Xiao Hei… it seems like its work isn’t finished yet. If it doesn’t want to show itself, not even a god could find it.”
With a flick of its tail, Ah Lü sighed, frustrated.
Wen Xin carried a scale belonging to No. 1, Xiao Hei. The aura it emitted was unmistakable. Even after evolving, Ah Lü reluctantly admitted that it still couldn’t match Xiao Hei in strength.
But it didn’t stay disheartened for long. It quickly regained its spirit, determined to be just as reliable as it had claimed.
“So what if I’m no match for it? I’ve successfully evolved, and No. 1 hasn’t. That alone is my victory!”
Ah Lü’s confidence stemmed from an undeniable instinct. It was certain that Xiao Hei was still in the process of evolving. Whether it succeeded or failed, the result would surely send ripples throughout the world.
Hearing Ah Lü’s report filled a part of Wen Xin’s heart with relief, but another part remained hollow. Simply knowing where the others might be wasn’t enough to set his mind at ease.
Wen Xin shifted his injured leg slightly, understanding that he would need several days of rest. Suppressing the restlessness in his heart, he spoke gently, “Ah Lü, I’d like to ask one more favor of you.”
*
At the same time, in Rose City, a high platform held a throne constructed entirely of bleached bones.
On the left armrest, a tiger’s skull had been intricately preserved, its jaws agape as if roaring even in death. On the right, the similarly crafted head of a lion displayed its fierce teeth, glinting coldly under the light.
A man sat on the throne, legs crossed. His chiseled features and sharp brows exuded an aura of distant frostiness, his demeanor unyielding and inhumanly cold.
From atop his seat, his deep black eyes gazed downward, their depths resembling a wine glass filled with dark ambition—a dense, crimson liquid swirling with suppressed fervor.
But now, all that ambition had solidified into silent, seething rage, radiating a suffocating pressure that filled the room.
The subordinate delivering a report felt his back drenched in cold sweat, though he hardly noticed when it had begun.
“…That’s the situation. Wen Xin seems to be in the eastern region now.”
The man closed his eyes for a moment before speaking in a low, commanding tone. “If he’s in the eastern region, he should be safe. No. 7 will ensure his protection. Now that everyone knows who he is, there’s no point in keeping it a secret.”
He paused briefly before adding, “Spread the word: Wen Xin is an honored guest of Rose City. Anyone who dares harm him will be declaring war against me.”
The subordinate quickly bowed and acknowledged the order.
“Base One…”
The man repeated the name, each syllable carrying such weight that the subordinate couldn’t help but tremble.
*
A few days later, an earth-shattering piece of news shocked everyone.
City A, in a surprising and unprecedented move, had allied with the seemingly unrelated Rose City to destroy three major weapons factories operated by Base One.
The alliance sent shockwaves through the region, marking the beginning of a new power dynamic that no one could have foreseen.
Weren’t they red panda why are they a squirrel now?
the author is confusing herself between the red panda and the squirrel