Chapter 82
Wen Xin was led to a garden by Ah Jiu, the canary.
Today was a rare sunny day. Gentle sunlight poured down from above, illuminating the tender buds sprouting on the tree branches, casting dappled halos of light.
There was no one around, leaving the place tranquil and quiet.
Ahead lay the Beast Arena, where several docile predatory birds were kept.
“Wait here for a moment,” Ah Jiu said before departing.
Wen Xin stayed put, waiting silently while pondering the promise the youth had made to him back then—how exactly would it be fulfilled?
He did not wait long.
Remaining attentive to his surroundings, Wen Xin soon heard the sound of flapping wings coming from above.
He looked up just in time to see a massive figure descending from the sky, its outstretched wings large enough to block out the sun.
Prepared for such an encounter, Wen Xin neither stepped back nor showed signs of defense. He simply watched in silence.
In midair, the figure hesitated briefly. Sensing Wen Xin’s composed and unflustered gaze, it felt reassured and descended steadily to the ground.
Before Wen Xin stood a massive golden bird. However, calling it merely a “big bird” would do a disservice to its imposing and majestic appearance.
This was a mutated golden eagle, standing a towering two meters tall.
Its sleek feathers were perfectly distinct, its golden body accented with brown markings. Its gaze, sharp as a blade, pierced downwards.
Even while standing still, the mere presence of its gaze exuded a palpable sense of danger, an oppressive force that weighed heavily on all who faced it.
Yet, the moment its eyes landed on the young man, the sharpness in its gaze melted away, replaced by an inexplicable warmth and familiarity.
Wen Xin’s recognition was immediate.
One glance, and he knew: this enormous golden eagle was none other than Ah Jiu, his family.
The once palm-sized fledgling had grown into such a commanding creature.
The golden eagle did not approach after landing. Instead, it looked up at the young man, seemingly hesitant.
Wen Xin immediately understood.
The act must go on.
Feigning surprise, he approached the eagle and asked, “I don’t believe we’ve met before. Are you also one of the City Lord’s mutants?”
The golden eagle gave a cool nod, then lowered its head slightly, signaling for Wen Xin to look into its beak.
It was then that Wen Xin noticed the strip of fabric it held. Retrieving it, he unfolded the cloth to reveal a few lines of text:
“Wen Xin, the City Lord has called me away on urgent business. Follow this eagle; it will take you to the celebration site. I’ll come find you once I’m done.”
Acting as though nothing were amiss, Wen Xin pocketed the note. With a theatrical sigh, he muttered, “That Ah Jiu again, leaving me high and dry. I’ll have to give him a proper scolding later.”
The golden eagle’s expression remained stoic, its cold demeanor unbroken as it silently maintained its guise of innocence.
Wen Xin couldn’t help but chuckle at its effort to stay in character. Reaching out, he stroked its feathers. “All right then, I’ll go with you. Thanks for your trouble.”
The golden eagle lowered itself, allowing Wen Xin to climb onto its back with ease.
There were no reins, no saddle.
Gripping a handful of feathers, Wen Xin nimbly vaulted onto the eagle’s back in one swift motion.
As he settled, Wen Xin suddenly recalled something: not long ago, Ah Jiu had often brought him to the Beast Arena to practice riding large birds. Perhaps all of that had been in preparation for this moment.
A swirl of emotions churned within him as he gently patted the eagle’s head, speaking softly, “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
The golden eagle responded with a resounding cry, spreading its wings and soaring into the sky.
At the site of the ceremony, the setting’s design revealed traces of its origins: a remodeled public park. While retaining the clean and modern aesthetics of urban architecture, the park had undergone significant transformation.
The outer walls had been demolished, and some of the greenery cleared away. In their place were marble-paved pathways that formed a vast open-air amphitheater.
A towering white viewing platform had replaced the central fountain. Even the lowest tier of the platform was more than ten meters above ground, forcing onlookers to crane their necks to see it.
A sea of people, numbering in the tens of thousands, crowded the plaza. Arranged in accordance with rank and status, they stood in tiers, from front to back. Yet the plaza could not hold them all, and lines stretched into the surrounding streets.
Despite their numbers, no one dared to raise their voice. Heads bowed, they murmured in hushed tones, their conversations centering on the main figure of this celebration.
Some voiced dissatisfaction, muttering that the Rose City Lord’s autocratic behavior would inevitably provoke a coalition against her. The higher it rises, they said, the greater the fall would be.
Others speculated that after today, the entire western region would fall under its sole control.
Still, others commented on Ah Jiu’s boldness, noting that not even the First Base could restrain Rose City.
Suddenly, a powerful, resonant cry echoed from the distance.
Heads turned upward, where a magnificent golden eagle approached against the wind.
The overwhelming presence of the S-class mutant descended like a hammer, striking every onlooker with a suffocating pressure.
Those who had been sneering moments ago turned pale and collapsed to their knees, trembling uncontrollably.
Tens of thousands bowed.
Amid the solemn atmosphere, they raised their heads in cautious awe—only to be stunned when a figure dismounted from the eagle’s back.
The Rose City Lord, known for her untouchable pride, had permitted a human to ride atop it!?
Shock rippled through the crowd like a tidal wave. Words like “astonishing” and “incredible” were woefully inadequate to describe the hurricane of emotions within the hearts of those present.
No one dared make a sound. Instead, they silently speculated about the identity of the young man.
Some recognized him.
Among the vast number of attendants at the city’s manor, including countless servants, sharp eyes were abundant.
In the past, certain individuals had harbored improper thoughts about Wen Xin, only to meet secret and brutal ends at the hands of Ah Jiu. The subsequent warnings had instilled terror, and those who knew his identity kept it well-guarded.
Today, however, things were different.
Ah Jiu had issued explicit orders: Wen Xin’s name and identity were to be made public at this celebration.
The world must know—Wen Xin was supported not only by the eastern regions but also by the western territories, making him untouchable.
In the crowd, a few trembling servants swallowed hard before mustering the courage to break the silence.
“Th-that’s the one they call Wen Xin!”
“What? Him!?”
The already-shocked crowd became even more astonished.
The news spread like wildfire through the masses.
Wen Xin had anticipated a large audience at the celebration and had mentally prepared himself.
Yet the moment he dismounted from the eagle and found himself under the scrutiny of tens of thousands of wide-eyed gazes, he couldn’t help but curl his fingers nervously. His body stiffened slightly.
Seeing the viewing platform, Wen Xin initially thought Ah Jiu would take him there after the ceremony.
Wen Xin hadn’t expected such brazenness—the golden eagle brought him directly into the heart of the celebration, unhidden and undeniable.
From the air, he’d spotted the vast gathering of people below and realized the situation was not what he’d expected. He had wanted to flee but, perched on the eagle’s back, falling would have left him as a smear on the ground.
Now, standing atop a viewing platform with no ladder to climb down, escape was utterly impossible.
The golden eagle nudged his back with its head, gently pushing him forward.
Wen Xin stumbled a few steps to the edge of the platform.
The crowd below fell silent.
Their gazes burned with intensity, like roaring flames.
Wen Xin felt as though he were being crushed under an invisible weight.
The sound of flapping wings behind him made his heart jolt.
“Wait—where are you going…?”
The golden eagle spread its wings and took flight, pausing only to affectionately nuzzle its head against Wen Xin’s cheek before soaring away.
Wen Xin held his composure, standing tall and unwavering as the eagle left. His strength of will kept him from calling out after it in desperation.
To the thousands watching below, his stoic posture gave the impression of a man unshaken, even by a mountain crumbling before him.
Months of rumors and speculations had coated the legend of Wen Xin in layers of idealized myth.
This was the Wen Xin of stories.
The one sought by countless factions. The one for whom the First Base had spent fortunes searching.
Such a grand spectacle must have been trivial to someone of his stature.
And so, standing at such heights, Wen Xin appeared calm and unperturbed.
Some couldn’t help but lift their eyes to his face, their expressions filled with boundless admiration.
Wen Xin stood for a moment, hoping the crowd would tire of staring. But their attention only intensified. Their gazes bore into him with such focus that he could feel it physically.
Tension stiffened his body, his brows furrowing as he struggled to maintain a calm demeanor. His self-control, however, only enhanced his aura of unapproachability.
It worked.
The most brazen among them finally averted their eyes, bowing their heads to avoid offense.
Ah Jiu returned at last.
For him, the 10-meter-high viewing platform was no challenge. With a light leap, he landed beside Wen Xin effortlessly.
Wen Xin had endured twenty minutes of being scrutinized by tens of thousands. Heaven only knew how he managed to keep his composure under such intense observation.
As Ah Jiu approached, Wen Xin turned his head, ready to scold him for leaving him alone. However, he noticed a faint sheen of sweat on Ah Jiu’s forehead.
This was unusual—mutants like him didn’t sweat easily from simple exertion.
The implication was clear: Ah Jiu had been up to something demanding.
Wen Xin sighed, pressing his temples as he swallowed his reproach.
Ah Jiu seemed surprised to see him. “Wen Xin? How are you here?”
Wen Xin smiled faintly. “Should I leave?”
Only the avian city lord would design a viewing platform with no ladder.
Ah Jiu laughed quickly, brushing the question aside. “You’re already here—why rush to leave?”
He rested a hand on Wen Xin’s shoulder. “Weren’t you planning to establish your own survivors’ base? Think of this as practice for handling crowds.”
From Ah Jiu’s eyes, Wen Xin saw ambition roaring like tidal waves.
Following his gaze downward, Wen Xin saw a sea of bowed heads and kneeling backs.
The 100,000-square-meter plaza, filled with tens of thousands of people, was eerily silent. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath in awe of the grand and solemn scene.
Ah Jiu’s voice broke the quiet, calm and commanding: “Raise your heads and look at me.”
The words struck like a gong.
Trembling, the crowd lifted their heads, eyes filled with reverence and fear, gazing up at the two figures on the platform.
Ah Jiu turned his head slightly, his smile casual yet deliberate. “Your identity has never been fully revealed until now. Now, they’ve all seen you.”
“Just as they look at me, they’ll look at you.”
“As countless people look up to me, so too will they look up to you.”
The echo of a youthful voice resounded in Wen Xin’s ears, as resolute and powerful as the tolling of a great bell.
He opened his mouth, but his throat was dry. A smile eventually broke through. “Yes.”
Ah Jiu watched him, a touch of curiosity in his eyes. “You seemed lost in thought earlier. Were you remembering something?”
Wen Xin chuckled at the reminder of his supposed amnesia. Playing along, he feigned irritation. “I did. Someone once made me a promise. But that same someone also stood me up just now and left me stranded here.”
For a brief moment, Ah Jiu stiffened, but he quickly recovered his composure, steering the conversation elsewhere. “That was a bit much, I admit. But this platform isn’t so high—the view from the top is even better. Shall we go up?”
Wen Xin couldn’t help but laugh. “Then I’ll trouble the City Lord to take me up.”
“With pleasure.”
Ah Jiu wrapped an arm around Wen Xin’s waist, leaping effortlessly from tier to tier until they reached the very top.
The climb left Wen Xin slightly out of breath.
But the view quickly stole his attention.
It was early spring, and the world below brimmed with renewal.
The sun hung high in a clear, vivid blue sky, so close it seemed you could reach out and touch it.
In the distance, the snow had melted, exposing barren land. Yet fresh green sprouts had begun to emerge, filling the scene with vibrant life.
Wen Xin stared, captivated.
That evening, Ah Jiu once again transformed into the golden eagle, carrying Wen Xin on a journey across the region.
The spring night breeze carried a trace of warmth. From his perch on the eagle’s back, Wen Xin gazed down from the heavens.
The vast world below seemed to shrink, its every detail drawn into his view. Overcome with exhilaration, his heart surged with emotion, and his cheeks flushed with excitement.
When the day ended, Ah Jiu assumed Wen Xin would feel as he did, intoxicated by the reverence of being admired, unable to let go of the sensation.
But to his surprise, the very next morning, Wen Xin sought him out—to say goodbye.
the promise us fulfilled!!! yayayayaya!!! i SWEAR dear canary was hinted to have raptor feathers but i might be hallucinating