Chapter 107
Chen Min and the Golden Eagle stood in front of the cabinet in the living room, opening the door to find the small, fluffy bird, nestled inside. The little bird looked up at Chen Min and the golden eagle, chirping happily with squinted eyes.
Chen Min: “…”
The Golden Eagle took a guilty step back. Their sharp hearing easily picked up the sounds of Teacher Bai walking around in the next room, calling softly for the little bird. This made the Golden Eagle even more nervous. It flapped its wing at Chen Min, nearly knocking him over. He barely managed to steady himself by grabbing onto the cabinet.
Chen Min shot the eagle an exasperated glare. “Now you’re worried? What were you thinking when you hid the bird, huh?”
The Golden Eagle looked back righteously as if saying: That’s on you, buddy.
After all, it was just a spirit beast. Its thoughts and emotions all came from Chen Min. So, the Golden Eagle shamelessly shifted the blame.
Chen Min: “…”
Not wanting Teacher Bai to worry—especially not in the middle of the night when he was still recovering—Chen Min sighed and spoke to the little bird in the cabinet. “Come out. I’ll take you back the way you came. You can go find Teacher Bai on your own.”
By “the way you came,” he meant tossing the bird back over the balcony.
The little bird was reluctant, but it also didn’t want Teacher Bai to worry. Obediently, it stepped out of the cabinet. Chen Min grabbed the bird by the wing and headed for the balcony.
The Golden Eagle, watching from the side, was unhappy with Chen Min’s rough handling. It swatted Chen Min with its wing again, expressing its disapproval in their shared mental space.
Sighing, Chen Min gave in and cradled the small bird more gently.
Meanwhile, Teacher Bai had turned on the lights in the balcony garden. After searching inside the room and not finding the little bird, he wasn’t overly worried. After all, the little bird was a spirit beast, not a real child. If it disappeared in the middle of the night, it likely had returned to its owner’s mental space.
Walking outside in his pajamas and slippers, Teacher Bai softly called, “Little Birdy? Are you out here?”
He approached Little Nabi’s rabbit nest and asked, “Little Nabi, did you see where little Birdy went?”
Little Nabi poked its head out of its bed. It had, in fact, seen the little bird’s heroic attempt to fly for love, but being a rabbit and unable to talk, it merely tilted its head in confusion. Sniffing, it then curled back up to sleep.
Just then, Chen Min’s voice came from the neighboring balcony: “Teacher Bai, are you looking for this little bird?”
Surprised, Teacher Bai walked over to the railing, where he saw Chen Min holding the fluffy bird in his arms.
The little bird chirped guiltily and gestured with its small wing towards the Golden Eagle, trying to explain that it had come over on its own to find the eagle!
Teacher Bai was astonished. “Little Birdy, why did you run off to find the Golden Eagle in the middle of the night? Do you want to sleep with it?”
The Golden Eagle: “???”
Its eyes widened in shock as it backed away several steps.
Chen Min, also at a loss, looked at the small bird. “Don’t you have your own bed?”
The little bird, feeling wronged, looked pitifully at the Golden Eagle, its big round eyes brimming with tears once again.
The Golden Eagle: “…”
What a clingy little thing!
At first, the eagle found the fluffy bird quite cute. But now? This was too much! Not only was it clingy, but it also cried a lot. The eagle was confused—what should it do?
With sympathy in his eyes, Teacher Bai said, “Maybe little Birdy just enjoys being around its own kind. The Golden Eagle is one of its species’ strongest, so it probably feels drawn to it. Would it be okay if little Birdy spent the night with the Golden Eagle?”
The little bird excitedly nodded, while the Golden Eagle shook its head furiously: No way!
That fluffy bird had even brought over a “child” (a plant), clearly implying it wanted a commitment! The eagle couldn’t handle that—it already had five “children” (plants) of its own to care for!
Seeing this, Teacher Bai sighed regretfully. “Oh, I see. Well, little Birdy, you’d better come back then. It seems the Golden Eagle isn’t ready for company.”
The little bird, teary-eyed, was brought back to Teacher Bai by Chen Min. While it had bravely flown over by itself, it took Chen Min less than ten seconds to return it, cradled in his arms.
No sooner had the bird returned than the Golden Eagle followed, dropping the little plant by Little Nabi’s nest and immediately flying back to its own place. Chen Min quickly shut the balcony door with a click, giving Teacher Bai a polite smile. “Sorry for disturbing you, Teacher Bai. It’s late. Rest well.”
Teacher Bai nodded. “You and the Golden Eagle should rest well too.”
The little bird looked at the escaping Golden Eagle, then at the plant the eagle had returned. It curled up in Teacher Bai’s arms, heartbroken.
It knew that tomorrow morning, Adian would be sent back home. It wouldn’t get to see Teacher Bai—or the Golden Eagle—ever again.
Feeling the bird’s sadness, Teacher Bai comforted it, murmuring, “Little Birdy must have lacked care from its elders when it was little, which is why it clings so much to the Golden Eagle.”
This made Teacher Bai reflect. He knew that children who lacked fatherly or motherly love growing up often sought older partners later in life, hoping to find the affection they had missed. He glanced at the small bird and thought of Adian.
A sense of melancholy settled over him.
He’d been thinking about Adian more and more these past two days. Adian’s childhood had been so unfortunate. Teacher Bai had cared for many children and witnessed all kinds of misfortune.
Having grown up in an orphanage himself, he understood the helplessness of being a child without a home, and the deep longing for love. He wanted to help Adian. Tomorrow morning, he’d ask Mons about Adian’s situation. If possible, he wanted to sponsor him.
After all, with his stable job and generous livestream donations, he could afford to help out. Maybe he could sponsor children in need or even build an orphanage on one of the distant star systems.
Back in the bedroom, with the small bird tucked into bed, Teacher Bai pulled out a storybook and spoke softly, “Little Birdy, are you feeling sad?”
The little bird nodded sorrowfully. It didn’t want to leave, and it especially didn’t want to be separated from Teacher Bai and the Golden Eagle.
“Shall we read a story, then?” Teacher Bai asked, seeing the bird’s distress.
Perking up, the little bird leaned over to look at the cover. It loved listening to Teacher Bai’s bedtime stories. Knowing it wouldn’t get to hear them again after tomorrow made the bird even sadder.
Teacher Bai pointed to a picture on the cover of the book, showing a boy wearing clothes that didn’t fit properly, with only one shoe on his feet. The boy was holding a colorful paper star. “This story is called The Guardian of the Stars. It’s a tale about love and protection.”
Somewhere in the hospital, unable to sleep, Adian lay in bed, listening to Teacher Bai’s soothing voice tell the story.
Teacher Bai began, “Every child, when they are young, has a guardian star. The guardian stars shine with a gentle light. By day, they are their playmates, running and adventuring together.”
He continued, “At night, the guardian star becomes a knight, chasing away the big monsters hiding in the dark, always by their side, keeping them safe until they fall asleep.”
In the illustration, each happy child had a shining star beside them, running alongside them in parks, playing in the streets. Sometimes, the star would be their ride, carrying them through the air. Other times, it would be their guide, leading them through the labyrinth-like city.
Their guardian stars kept them safe as they grew up.
Teacher Bai flipped to the next page, showing a lonely boy in worn-out clothes. “But there was one boy,” Teacher Bai said with emotion in his voice, “who seemed to have been forgotten by the heavens. No guardian star came to be by his side.”
Teacher Bai’s eyes began to well up as he recalled the story’s sadness. He gently stroked the small bird beside him. “During the day, the boy would stand in the park, watching as the other children’s guardian stars climbed trees, jumped into rivers, and explored forests without fear. He envied them, because they had a guardian star.”
The boy would say to the flowers and trees, “I wish I could climb trees and pick fruit. I wish I could jump into rivers to catch fish. I want to explore the forest too—it must be so exciting.”
The little grass nearby asked, “If you want to, why don’t you?”
The boy replied sadly, “It’s too dangerous. I could fall from the tree and die, or be swept away by the river. And the forest? I could get lost. I don’t have a guardian star to protect me.”
Hearing this, the tall tree chuckled and said, “The reason those other children need guardian stars is because they are reckless and don’t know how to avoid danger. You were born wise, and you know how to protect yourself. That’s why the heavens didn’t give you a guardian star—because you don’t need one. You’re even wiser than the stars themselves.”
The boy was surprised and said excitedly, “So, you mean, I’m better than all those kids?”
The tree nodded, “Yes, yes, you’re better than all the other children.”
The boy was overjoyed. “If I’m better than all the kids and even all the guardian stars, then I must be really amazing!”
The trees and flowers all nodded in agreement, “Yes, yes, you’re better than all the guardian stars.”
But when the boy returned home, he still felt sad. Even if he was better than everyone else, he still felt lonely. He, too, longed for companionship.
Teacher Bai wiped a tear from his eye and also dabbed at the small bird’s eyes before flipping the page. “So, the boy decided that if the heavens wouldn’t give him a guardian star, he would make one himself. He crafted a colorful star out of lots of different pieces of paper and filled it with fireflies. That way, he too had a guardian star!”
The boy’s star was unlike any other—it was more beautiful, brighter, and, of course, more fragile.
When night came, the boy proudly carried his handmade star outside, boasting to everyone, “My guardian star is the most beautiful in the world. It doesn’t need to protect me because I can protect it!”
Teacher Bai turned to the final page, showing the boy holding his colorful star with pride. “If you don’t have a guardian, then become one yourself. If you want to be protected, you must first have the strength to protect others. One day, little Birdy, you might find your own guardian star. I hope by then, you’ll have the strength to protect them, and in turn, you’ll protect each other forever.”
*
The next morning, Mons arrived at the hospital. As soon as he opened the door to Adian’s room, he was startled by the sight of him.
The thin boy stood by the bed, his eyes swollen and red from crying. When he looked over at Mons, fresh tears welled up and fell.
Mons: “…”
Mons paused for a couple of seconds before asking hesitantly, “Are you really that excited to go back?”
Adian: “…”
